I have a confession to make. I am afraid of Twitter. There, I’ve said it, it’s out in the open, so in theory I should be well on the road to recovery and to developing a normal functioning ability to tweet. I hope.
You see, I am the type of person who I think should be a big twitter user. In the way I decided, in my twenties, that eating olives (even though I hated them) fitted in with my idea of myself, I see myself as one who tweets, even though I don’t, or more accurately, can’t. I generally embrace any form of self expression, from pontificating in the pub, to shouting at Simon Cowell on the telly. And, up until now, I have been fine with the changing forms of the written word. I went from letter writing to emailing (showing my age here) without a backward glance.
Facebook and I have enjoyed many happy moments together – it is perfect to browse through while winding a baby, or when I (embarrassingly quickly) lost interest in the News at 10. But, there is no getting away from it, Facebook is really very 2010 and Twitter is what it’s all about now.
As I see it, Facebook is fine for the average punter who posts photos and indulges in celebrity ogling but cool people tweet (and they eat olives too). So, as you can see, it’s not that I don’t like Twitter, I do. Lots. I just can’t tweet. I hang around the edges, finding out all sorts of interesting things, while admiring the clever turns of phrase and the pithy put downs. I have attended events that I would never have known about, I have read fascinating articles, and been ahead of the posse on news events. I have also been mesmerised by various slanging matches, shamelessly gobbled up celebrity tit-bits and spent an inordinate amount of time just messing around. And I follow people as diverse as Barack Obama, Mariella Fostrup and Strictly Come Dancing.
But when it comes to tweeting myself, I seize up completely…
I am struck dumb. How can I be a proper twitterer/ twitter user / tweetie, if I don’t tweet? One of the main problems is that I don’t want to make an idiot of myself. I am not quite sure why this matters so much, I have done/ said / written stupid things numerous times over the years, some of which are so mortifying that I still blush thinking about them… But the world didn’t collapse, and making a fool of myself has truly never prevented me from doing much. To boot, I have the grand total of 8 followers, so it’s not exactly like the world is watching my antics.
The other very strong factor in my fear is the length. Or lack of it. 140 characters is very little, and I am, in my heart and soul, a waffler. I like to waffle and I like plenty of space to waffle in. (As you can see). So, even if I have the perfect subject to tweet on,and I manage to be interesting and witty, there is no possible way I am also going to manage to be brief. I have a vision of tweets cut in two (or three, or four), of essays in tweet form. Not good.
But I will not be beaten.
Just as in my twenties I ate olives, over and over, until I liked them, really liked them, I will tweet. And my tweets will be clever, they will be funny and they will be short. My 8 followers will be impressed and will tell all their friends. This is the beginning, I have faced my twitter fear and I will beat it. Not today of course, and probably not tomorrow, but soon. I promise.
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