October 28th, 2008

spring

This Is Not Your Father's Internet

I do want to say this in case it hasn't flashed across some people's minds, since apparently it hasn't.

The Internet is a public venue. If you post a pissy blog post about someone who isn't on your Friends list, they will still probably see it. Among other things, you can set up a Google alert, which e-mails you when someone posts a certain search phrase or combination of phrases. Like a magic spell that magically alerts you whenever your name is spoken in this mystic domain -- unless you are John Smith or of that kind and thus gifted with net invisibility.

The Internet is, oddly enough, both personal and public space. Personal in that you can post all sorts of personal things: your sexual fantasies, the names of the medications you use, the cadence of your farts on a particularly gassy day. You can have a group of online friends and swap all sorts of jokes and details and dish. However, public in that it's as if your conversation is taking place on a big stage in a mall, with all sorts of people hurrying past on their way to do business or consume or whatever. You may or may not want to behave accordingly.

In other news, still cranking away on the rewrite, wrists are better. I'm on schedule for getting it done by the end of November, plus this week clearing away as much as I can in order to focus on Nanowrimo and going through rewrites/clean-ups for the collection.  I have underlined the phrase "It is OKAY to turn down projects" on my white board. In red.

krisname 's excellent Nine Sundays In a Row is up at Strange Horizons. By odd synchronicity, the story I produced the same week she wrote that at Clarion West, Angry Rose's Lament (aka the space wasps story) is up at Abyss & Apex.

The requisite political links: