Strength in Numbers

"You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an inner exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world." 

— Sheila Graham, writer/performer (1904-1988)

There are two kinds of people in the world: the isolationists and the joiners. This comes pretty close to the crux of my whole Two Kinds of People philosophy. I spent close to 25 years as an isolationist, waiting for the world to discover the greatness of me. Never happened.

In my late twenties, I dibbled and dabbled, taking a class here and there, but still not really becoming part of a community. It wasn't until my twins were born and a neighbor dragged me to a Mothers of Multiples (MOMs) meeting that I finally understood the idea of strength in numbers, in shared experiences and common ground. 

My own mom was never much of a joiner, and I believe my early aversion came from a sense that groups that you had to join were all about exclusion, not inclusion. That can certainly be true. Even in my little MOMs group, if you didn't have more than one baby at a time, you couldn't be part of the group, which is too bad, because I learned most of the good things I know about how to be a parent from that group. 

But joining doesn't have to be about exclusion — it can be about creating and belonging to a community. In thinking about how I changed my joining tune, I turned (as I usually do) to the dictionary and found my perfect definition of community in the online version of the MacMillan Dictionary (definition #4): "the feeling that you belong to a group and that this is a good thing."

It is a good thing to belong. Since I figured that out, I have started a book club, been PTA president, and become a member of the board of a long-running writers' workshop, just to name a few groups. And now … now there is the Internet. Geography is no longer the delimiter in defining community. We can create virtual communities.

There are those (my Dad) who think we've come to far. There are those who doubt the veracity of an online community — isolationists who see the Interwebs as nothing more than a playground for perverts and procrastinators. Not true.

The online writing community, in particular, is one of the most vital. Just spend 15 minutes lurking at #yalitchat on Twitter and you'll discover a worldwide group of adults passionate about the creation of literature for young adults. Or follow #amwriting or #kidlitchat or #author.

Now I'm going to tell you my little story about how virtual became reality. About two years ago, I stumbled upon something called SheWrites.com. I was fairly new to Facebook and brand new to Twitter and trying to figure out the whole social networking scene, which seemed vast and uninviting, harder to crack than even the tightest PTA cliques (you know who you are).

I signed up for SheWrites. I joined a group called Chicago Area Writers. Nothing. Then I joined, on a whim, a group called Mother Writers. The group's "owner", E. Victoria Flynn, reached out to me in welcome. We swapped some info and she became one of my first Twitter followers. On my first "Follow Friday", she sent a shout out to her Twitter pals inviting them to follow me and suddenly I was in.

I've "met" hundreds (probably thousands) of people on Twitter and now have more than 900 followers of my own, but there's a kind of core group that has developed and we've become friends on SheWrites and Facebook, as well as on Twitter. If you're confused by all this tech talk, don't worry; I'm getting the the real part. Over time, my crew has been very supportive of each other's writing efforts and one of us, the beautiful and talented Rebecca Rasmussen has seen her first novel, The Bird Sisters, through to publication. We were all so excited. Really.

Then we heard that she was going on a book tour, just like a real author. And then we heard that she was coming to The Book Stall, a fabulous, still independent, still open book store in Winnetka, IL. And we hatched a plot. Our group would meet at for cocktails and dinner or whatever and go together to hear Rebecca read from her new novel. We would travel from around the midwest: Victoria (of Penny Jar) from Madison; Christi (of Writing Under Pressure) from Milwaukee; Julie (of Beginning a Life at 50) from Nashville; and our celebrity author (of The Bird Sisters Blog) from St. Louis.

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans and good intentions and all that. It usually doesn't work out. Except when it does. Like this time. Maybe it was because we didn't have to do it, that everyone would have understood if the thing fell apart. But I think it's because we stopped lurking and joined in. We created a real community. It started out virtually and transformed each of us quite literally. I can't wait for our next book launch. Wonder which of us it will be?

At The Bookstall, from left — Rebecca Rasmussen, Julie Jeffs,
E. Victoria Flynn and Christi Craig. (Where am I? Taking the
picture, of course.)

I'd been planning this post for some time, but the writing of it was prompted by the She Writer Blogger Ball Re-Re-Redux, another opportunity to meet and greet and join. Click on the little bookshelf image at the top of this post and join in the fun of a blog hop. No membership dues required, although your comments are always appreciated (here and on the other blogs you visit). 

Double-edged Internet — CMB post

This post originally appeared on the now defunct Chicago Moms Blog.

Hi. My name is Susan. I'm addicted to the Internet.

Well, maybe that's an overstatement, but I do have a blog. OK, I contribute to this blog, have several business blogs, and I the blogs I follow include … well, let's just say I keep up and am a regular commenter.

Then there's my new Website. And my husband's Website. And my Yahoo, LinkedIn and Google groups. And my SheWrites account. And my Facebook account. But I do not Twitter (except for my husband's store). That's where I draw the line. At least today.

Hi. My name is Susan. I'm addicted to the Internet.

Every day I am astounded by all the Internet has to offer. There are the big things, like huge outpourings of generosity and compassion for the people of Haiti — and great ways to vet the organizations involved. So many innovative ways to help have been spurred by technology, like Google's offer of free voice calls to Haiti for US families with relatives in the stricken nation.

Then there are the little things, like recipe calculators (transform your favorite family dish to a meal for 25 instantly!) There are cool little widgets (many free!) to download that will make your Web life easier.

There's the common application that my daughter has used to apply to colleges, and all kinds of tools for comparing schools, making that process so much simpler than when I was her age.

There's a strange and wonderful intimacy that can develop among virtual friends, like the mom from this very group who received astounding messages of love and sympathy when she lost her daughter.

Personally, I live for really enjoy the comments I get on my blog. Today, for example, a complete stranger emailed me to tell me how much she loves my posts and even called me "a clever, clever woman." A little thing, yes, but it made my day.

There are seemingly infinite ways to connect online, making life less difficult and isolating for parents and caregivers; more interesting for the shy, geographically isolated or housebound; and more accessible for students and professionals seeking research materials.

Games, apps, online libraries, support groups, professional groups, lists, aggregators, search engines … so much good stuff, the mind boggles.

And then there's the other side — the aggravating, insidious, even dangerous side.

How many of us have "misdiagnosed" ourselves or a loved one by becoming cyberchondriacs? How many viruses have we had to fight, spread by innocent-seeming emails? How many writers have lost their jobs due to free content providers and news aggregators?

There are hackers and phishers and screen scrapers; people who want your money, your identity, your computer's integrity, or worse. There are predators and pornographers. There are individual bad guys and organized scam efforts.

Our family has not been immune. My daughter is a victim of online slander. A few years back, when she started high school, someone anonymously posted an unflattering picture with a vile caption that included her full name. I tried repeatedly to contact the host of the site and get it taken down, pointing out that she was a minor, and that her photo and name were being used without permission. No response. The photo still lurks in the ether and comes up whenever you search her name. Will it ruin her life? No, but it stinks.

While technology has made it so easy to donate to Haiti (proving that "going viral" can be a good thing), there are frauds out there and we need to be wary. In addition to cheating donors out of their heartfelt contributions, these fraudulent sites are also interfering with donations to legitimate organizations, some of which have had their sites wrongly blocked.

I, myself, feel the need to offer up a mea culpa for poor Internet judgment. Several groups have recently formed in our community to protest the proposed closing of our two small branch libraries. One posted on Facebook and I immediately became a fan. Who could possibly be against keeping libraries open, I reasoned. The trouble is that I jumped on this band wagon without any thought or research.

While I would love to keep our libraries open, a recent conversation led me to understand that this may not be the best option. With a budget deficit of $9,532,100 and a $140M pension fund deficit, tough choices must be made. What other services or programs might we lose in the tradeoff?

I'm not saying these branch library supporters are wrong; but I'm not saying they are right, either. I need to learn more before I can make the best decision in a bad situation. And good decisions do not come from mob mentality — they come from honest, forthright discussion. Somehow, in the heat of the Internet, I forgot.

I remember when my mom was teaching me how to sew, she said: "This machine is a wonderful tool, but you need to learn how to use it carefully." Good advice.

Hi. My name is Susan. I'm addicted to the Internet.

This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post. When Susan Bearman isn't clicking around the Web, she can be found at Two Kinds of People and on her new Website.

Facing Up to Facebook

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who use online social networking tools and those who don't. Yet. 

Social networking is exactly what it sounds like: communicating among a group of people with common interests — and it is not new. Plato's Academy, way back BCE, was a social network. The writers, editors, actors and agents who frequented the Algonquin Roundtable after WWI practically defined social networking. Heck, talking over the back fence with your neighbor an act of social networking.

So, what's all the fuss? Do we really need Twitter? Has LinkedIn changed the way we link up? Are people really being served by listserves?

Just as it has altered everything else it has touched, the Internet has changed the very nature of social networking — allowing people from all over the world to make instant connections. Sometimes these connections are nameless or pseudonymous, many times they are faceless. Some "require" you to post your real name and picture, but who's really checking the millions of users involved in these lawless social networks, often referred to as the wild west of the 21st century.

A few weeks ago, I ran across SheWrites, a brand spankin' new Web-based community of (primarily) women writers. I was attracted to the idea of a place online that was all about writing all the time. Since the site went live sometime mid-June, it has grown to more than 2,500 members. But Facebook boasts 100,000 times that amount, claiming to have 250 million members.

When I mentioned SheWrites in my last post, I heard from my friend Marcy, who said: "Why are you not on Facebook, woman? I just posted a link to your blog, you silly gal."

Why wasn't I on Facebook? Here was someone else promoting my blog on the world's largest social networking site, so why wasn't I? I guess it seemed a little crass — all those horror stories of people posting pictures of themselves in compromising positions and then losing their jobs over it. I guess it seemed a little scary — 250 million people! I guess it seemed like a black hole ready to suck even more of my time and creative writing juices (read this hysterical review). 

But, as of July 14, Facebook can now boast 250,000,001, because I finally caved and joined. Facebook is the crack cocaine of social networking. Highly addictive, it sucks you in with the ability to make more friends in 10 minutes than you have in your entire life. With its online food fights and rounds of simulated drinks, if you're not careful, you could find yourself suffering one wicked virtual hangover. 

On the other hand, you can talk to people you never see or hear from except around the holidays. You can reconnect, promote your business and (one day) your book, and even learn a thing or two. You aren't promising your life away by posting a few lines here and there. When you're done, you're done. You don't have to comment. You don't have to post your status. You don't have to check your wall. (Well, maybe you don't have to check your wall … hang on, I'll be right back.)

The cure for boredom is curiosity.

There is no cure for curiosity.

— Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967)

Ok, I'm back. With the passing of Walter Cronkite, I have been thinking a lot about the new media. Is this instant communication anything more than curiosity run amok — our escalating narcissism and voyeurism spun into the ultimate exercise in navel gazing? Is unedited, unvetted, user-generated content the literature of our time? Is this how our words will be judged?

In a well-crafted post, Merlin Mann argues that we need to do better:  "What worries me are the consequences of a diet comprised mostly of fake-connectedness, make believe insight, and unedited first drafts of everything. I think it's making us small … All I know right now is that I want to do all of it better."

Here's to doing better. I hope you'll keep me on my toes here at Two Kinds of People. Use your right to comment and call me on typos, spurious arguments and run-on sentences. All you have to do is click here.

Photo credit: Circle of friends by Frederic Poirot