…and the small gets smaller.
I resisted Twitter for the usual reasons. Honestly, I’m still a little surprised that people are so inherently narcissistic (present company included) that they’d actually believe other people would care what they ate for lunch, or some other such silly nonsense. But then, I thought, what if I used it for shameless self-promotion–you know, like a professional anything.
What I’ve stumbled onto now, without really seeking it out, is something I’ll call “Twit-Fic.” I’m not so naive as to think I’m the one who actually came up with that term, but I’d not really heard it before I started writing it. I’d read it, but never saw it named. So, to whoever coined the term, thanks.
I’ll not belabor my point about the short form being a challenge, or how much I enjoy the process of making sixty words, twenty-five words, six words, six sentences, or now, 140 spaces weave a larger story-arc. But I will tell you that my snobbery for Twitter is actually wide-spread. Twitter, some would have us believe, may be the end of all intelligent thought. But I don’t think it needs to be. Why not embrace it, challenge ourselves as writers. What can we do with 140 spaces (and no, I do not use letters for words–no chat lingo allowed for me)?
You can follow my “Twit-Fic” enteries here: http://twitter.com/adgansky
They’ve become synoptic (still having trouble wrapping my brain around the stand-alone twit-fic, though I’ve seen some good ones). I’d like to think they’re fun. But you be the judge. Here are my first few entries:
1) The water was cold. She hoped someone was watching. In her darkest dreams, no one saw her walk into the ocean, no one noticed her absence.
2) The water was at her hip, then up to her breasts with the swell of the waves. The waves pushed her chest, the undertow pulled her heels.
3) She heard seagulls overhead, heard their melancholy song. It reminded her of a dirge. The ocean clapped around her. The sky was bone white.