Yes, I caved. My first day on Twitter was largely spent blocking a passel of unusually friendly young women who for some reason wish to follow me. It will take me awhile to get comfortable with the form, which seems to me less like birdsong, and more an endless series of hiccups and burps. But that is a human song, is it not? Besides, there are many great writers, like Colson Whitehead, who have mastered the form. So I will study, and learn.
Because it has come to my attention that the profession of "writer" means something quite different than it did just a few years ago. Competence in a wider variety of forms has become necessary. Saying I didn't use Twitter almost began to seem like saying I didn't use commas. I suppose I'll be using fewer of those now...
And so the leaky ship that is my online privacy springs another hole. The leaky vessel that holds my time, ditto. My first tweet was the title of an obscure Jethro Tull song that seems to have inspired exactly no one. Ian Anderson, are you out there?
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