It’s Sunday. I really shouldn’t have checked Mark’s Metabook on a Sunday, but we are all fallen. I did. And I saw some friend requests, and like the fool I often am, I responded.
It’s a mistake; it’s always a mistake.
The Friendbook is the worst because it says to a connection, “you are a friend now!”
But this is really, really not the case.
I am in the unusual situation of making my living by my written word (and a picture here and there), and in this day and age, this also means doing a great deal of self-promotion on the internet. After all, if you don’t sell your works, who will?*
And that’s all well and good, but then you’ve got Faceboot telling everybody that “you freinds nao!”
And this is terrible and false.
But ok, ok, my keyboard wanders.
So I go through the friend requests, and some folks have a lot of mutuals with me, and I sometimes add a few, because, you know, it’s the same hobby, and it’s mostly nice folks.
Did I mention it’s Sunday?
So one of these folks, I add, and they message me:
“Hey, can you explain what your book XYZ is about? The link to [reseller’s ad on third-party website] doesn’t work.”
And, it’s Sunday, the day of rest, and I’m surprised, so I redirect them to another shop.
But, goddamnit. Blasphemy inc.
I wrote the book years ago. There are reviews and blurbs and a free intro, and everything all over the internet.
But you, “new metaverse frend”, think it’s better to just ask the author to tell you what their book is about because one link on the internet has rotted.
The whole internet is a jungle of rotting links!
Look, look, I get it. Folks told you the customer is always right. Well, they lied.
Just because someone has, by life’s weird twists, become an author, doesn’t mean they’re not human, and it doesn’t mean they don’t want to have a Sunday to themselves for rest.
Yes, I love my books and what I put in them. It’s great. I’m happy you’re excited about them.
But, y’know, I don’t know you. And it’s Sunday. And I don’t feel like talking about them today.
I dunno, it happens.
Try asking an accountant you just met to explain taxes to you on a Sunday. I’m betting they’ll be super-thrilled.**
500 words more than needed to be said on this topic, but I said them anyway.
Let people rest on Sunday. And remember, with timezones, it’s Sunday somewhere for a while.
And if you’re asking authors to explain their books to you, you’d better be an interviewer or responding to an AMA or something.
Happy Sunday, everyone.
*Exceptions exist, of course. Pace.
**I mean, some will. But they shouldn’t. They should take a walk, pet a pooch, and scope the sky. Man was not made to be just a job.