From Hell’s Heart I Stab at Thee. Social Media Hell That Is
Actually I’m stabbing at you from a coffee shop in beautiful rainy Ann Arbor, where I went to film one of these.
I do that a lot anyway. But there isn’t usually a cameraman there. I will post the results when they’re ready, except if they’re shameful, in which case I’ll disavow them.
So because I am an author, I have to have a ‘social media strategy,’ which is one reason I started this blog. Though I’ll tell you a weird thing: I fricking love this blog, and it is getting more and more difficult to pry myself away from it. I also tweet.
So far so good. But now I realize I need to deal w/ Facebook, too. So I’ve started paying attention to my Facebook profile. And I set up a Facebook fan page. For myself. Which felt weird, but I powered through it anyway.
And see, this is where it all started falling apart. There was already a Facebook page for me. It was nice — it flowed in any status updates that mention me, including my own, and my Wikipedia entry buy zithromax online overnight shipping (which I hate, but haven’t edited so when I die I can still get into WikiHeaven) — but I couldn’t figure out who created it. Or maybe it spontaneously generated itself.
So I started a new one. But it doesn’t pick up status updates about or by me. In fact it looks crappy and has no fans. Now I’m asking myself, as I do every day, why can I not be more like Neil Gaiman and Patrick Rothfuss? And not just, you know, the hair. Though that would be a start.
So now I’m the proud owner of a blog, a Twitter feed, and two Facebook pages. I can sync my Twitter feed to one of my Facebook pages, but not both, and none of the others seem to want to talk to each other, including the two Facebook pages. So I have to run around Charlie Chaplin-style, updating them all sequentially. It’s a fricking nightmare.
Even just the hair thing would be a start.