Fucking Twitter—that if Twitter comes not as naturally as the leaves to the tree, it had better not come at all—
The inhibitor is knowing one’s audience too exactly. The computers were told to ascertain their exact histories and characters, because M. Market said so. Well, there’s a reason I haven’t checked the access logs on this thing in years. Kathryn sent a Times article on ebook analytics in which an author (who makes six figures from “young adult paranormal romances”) asks (not really asking), “What writer would pass up the opportunity to peer into the reader’s mind?”
Ack. I see the utility. Like the utility whose job it is to keep the furnace running, or the toilet flushing. I think “engagement” is another mask of the old enemy, ambition.
A seat in my winter garden, no more. Good. Well, perhaps very bad. I yain’t what I yain’t, sailor man.
