I'm afraid it might be over between us. Oh I know, when our relationship was new and I couldn't wait to access you, it was special. My fingers trembled on the keyboard, delight streaming in 140 characters or less.
There were others. Oh yes, I was a Twit-ho. I followed anyone who had been in print, who had a popular blog or who was followed by the followers of a following I followed. Yes, I was a *gulp* follower.
But Twitter, my obsession was not meant to be.
So many authors meant so many people who wanted my $$. They didn't find me funny or smart or even tweet worthy. No, they wanted to sell me books. To read their blogs. They wanted me for reasons.
There were rare occasions and even more, moments like romfail by Jane from Dear Author that made you still an indulgence. But Facebook was fun also and I found less on you, dear Twitter than I was finding on FB.
Still, we tried to keep our relationship flourishing. And the end didn't even come from you darling, but rather from a random blogger I saw as I was blog hopping. She posted about her love of Twitter and showed each time a writer responded to her. Said she: "It's not what you know, it's who you know. Everytime I tweet, I'm closer to getting published."
It wasn't your fault, dear Twitter. But reading that made me wonder if the idea of socially networked insanity is spreading a little too far. My guilt of not buying the new releases of authors I have friended is beginning to weigh on me. My lack of support to every hard working writer is giving me hives.
And so I must say adieu. Kind of. Or at least, TTFN. I'm sure we can still be in each others lives. Maybe a little tweeting with benefits.
Love ya... Lori