i’m trying hard to play the twitter game. it’s necessary and remarkable, but i can’t help feeling like it’s a party to which i’m arriving years too late.
a party where (nearly) everyone’s name is a scramble of consonants and conversations diverge, converge, reference stuff from the past, and every link’s a bit.ly so God help you.
or maybe it’s like watching an endless sporting event. an eternal round-robin relay, where players work in shifts so content is added every second.
how can i get anyone’s attention? i can’t jump into months-long chitchat. i can’t follow every link and learn everyone’s name. but i can do something else. it's so simple, so obvious:
i can thank each of them.
i’m systematically thanking all my followers, everyone whose photos i (legally) use, who follows me back, who retweets or favorites or in some way gives me a virtual nod to the effect of, “you seem alright, julia. you’ll understand this place someday.”
i’m scaling the twitter mountain one act of sincere politeness at a time. what will people say, “wrong. you aren’t welcome”? of course not. my twitter buds have been great in return.
because everyone loves being thanked. and the best part is this strategy works in real life, too. honest gratitude is rare.
twitter throws a decent party. #joinus