Dear Page Larkin,
My love affair with Twitter started a year ago.
A friend suggested my fledgling business as a food designer would shoot into the sales stratosphere with a daily infusion of Twitter.
With guarded optimism, fueled by the mantra “Everyone else is doing it”
I took the first step and clicked the magic green box: Get Started Join.
I chose a clever name, rife with double entendre, marrying my work and play personas. Voila! I was in the game and all I had to do was start my English major engine and commence with copy.
Like a virtual virgin, I stumbled and stuttered. Reminiscent of a first date: it was slow and awkward. I vacillated between gushing sentences and a haiku-severe short style. Eventually, I hit my stride. I entered the shallow end of the Twitter pool and made tiny waves – twaves? Each day I would punch in a pithy prose describing my various gigs with my vast assortment of clients:
Hired Michael Angelo wannaba be to paint Sister’s chapel at Mercy convent. Not a masterpiece, but was hired to get entire building power washed. Really cleaning up.
Spent eight hours organizing three walk-in closets, 5 bookshelves stuffed with books of purple prose & small garage filled with towers of unopened EBAY purchases.
Embarking upon a hideous assignment like Clint Eastwood movie good bad & ugly. Have been to 8 stores in 4 hours and 2 counties on a wild goose chase. Oh rats, we need traps.
You Have a Friend or Come Follow Me
The early days of my Twitter love affair were fun and frenzied. My mind started thinking in spurts of 140 characters. Forget stanzas, iambic pentameter, rhyme or quatrains. I was seduced and reduced by sleek 140 characters.
Akin to the conundrum: if a tree falls in the forest …would anybody read or respond? The number of followers grew exponentially and I soon found myself creating clever copy for my small army of followers
I got smart and married my Twitter account to my Blog. There was a Buzz.
I never cheated. I remained dedicated and steadfast to my 140 characters. Honestly, once or twice I was tempted to verbosity, but I controlled those primitive urges.
My summer romance morphed into an all-consuming passion. My I- Phone and I were never a part. I was sending Tweets all day long. Clever, pithy and evidently, attention getting. My followers multiplied every day. Clients appeared. Thousands of people followed me and I did the same, until the day it dawned on me: my jobs had multiplied, I had six assistants in three cities. I loved Twitter, but we had different dreams.
I was now too busy consulting and forecasting with clients…
I was so over 140 characters. Once laconic and in love, we had grown apart. I wanted more. I had dreams of paragraphs and chapters. Twitter would always be 140.
It was with heavy heart and 3 characters that I said farewell to Twitter: Bye.