I was a relative latecomer to the idea of a twitter book club. I read your blog entry on this subject with great interest. Anne, I agree with your fundamental points about why it is likely to fail.
When I got enthused about the idea of such a club, I tried to think how it could work. You might remember I proposed a hashtag #TBkClub. That's 7 characters only [or 9 if you include a space plus the #]. #TwitterBookClub is 17 characters out of the precious 140, but it has the virtue of being easily remembered.
Mine was a mistake, because it was not easy enough to remember. My hashtag is useless in that case.
Still, that isn't the real problem. Ten more characters makes little difference. It's impossible unless you're a master of haiku to say anything worthwhile about a big topic in a short sentence, and even then you'd have to be Basho.
As well, not everyone is savvy about how to use hashtags. They don’t always know that if you put #TBkClub in the search field of their Twitter program, it will create a line of tweets solely under that hashtag.
Also, we're all doing other things. There are several books open to discussion and as a Denis-come-lately I've read only one of them. In fact, I know only Mister Pip. Some who are interested have managed to get part way through a particular book. That's life. Most of us are too old or irreverent to be told to stand in the naughty corner, especially when we have valid reasons for not making the time to sit down and enjoy that book.
There are probably only a couple of ways it could work. Here's one.
I've created this new blog (the one you're reading now!) – http://thereadingroom7.blogspot.com.au/ – that, if the idea has legs, someone else will need to take over well before my Use-By date has gone. A willing person, perhaps with Blogger experience, can take it over at any time as curator. I'm just the builder, though it needs very few, if any furnishings to work.
I'm using this piece as a sample posting, keeping it very simple.
The comments section is open to all. For this blog, it's really the powerhouse section. For the sake of simplicity, for those without Google or other accounts, it may work best if you use the Anonymous option to comment, and just sign it at the end of the comment however you like (e.g., with your twitter identity?)
All you'd have to do then is post a message to Twitter that you've added a comment. Your comment can be identified individually, but I won't go into that now.
It's quite simple using cut and paste for the curator to make a new posting of any comment/book review, if required, so it has its own identity for further comment.
What this does is to give anyone a fair word length to comment, or write a short book review.
Clear as mud?
Ask a question as a comment!
When I got enthused about the idea of such a club, I tried to think how it could work. You might remember I proposed a hashtag #TBkClub. That's 7 characters only [or 9 if you include a space plus the #]. #TwitterBookClub is 17 characters out of the precious 140, but it has the virtue of being easily remembered.
Mine was a mistake, because it was not easy enough to remember. My hashtag is useless in that case.
Still, that isn't the real problem. Ten more characters makes little difference. It's impossible unless you're a master of haiku to say anything worthwhile about a big topic in a short sentence, and even then you'd have to be Basho.
As well, not everyone is savvy about how to use hashtags. They don’t always know that if you put #TBkClub in the search field of their Twitter program, it will create a line of tweets solely under that hashtag.
Also, we're all doing other things. There are several books open to discussion and as a Denis-come-lately I've read only one of them. In fact, I know only Mister Pip. Some who are interested have managed to get part way through a particular book. That's life. Most of us are too old or irreverent to be told to stand in the naughty corner, especially when we have valid reasons for not making the time to sit down and enjoy that book.
There are probably only a couple of ways it could work. Here's one.
I've created this new blog (the one you're reading now!) – http://thereadingroom7.blogspot.com.au/ – that, if the idea has legs, someone else will need to take over well before my Use-By date has gone. A willing person, perhaps with Blogger experience, can take it over at any time as curator. I'm just the builder, though it needs very few, if any furnishings to work.
I'm using this piece as a sample posting, keeping it very simple.
The comments section is open to all. For this blog, it's really the powerhouse section. For the sake of simplicity, for those without Google or other accounts, it may work best if you use the Anonymous option to comment, and just sign it at the end of the comment however you like (e.g., with your twitter identity?)
All you'd have to do then is post a message to Twitter that you've added a comment. Your comment can be identified individually, but I won't go into that now.
It's quite simple using cut and paste for the curator to make a new posting of any comment/book review, if required, so it has its own identity for further comment.
What this does is to give anyone a fair word length to comment, or write a short book review.
Clear as mud?
Ask a question as a comment!
My first response when I saw your idea was how brilliant you are and that those of us who follow you on Twitter are very lucky.
ReplyDeleteMy second thought was a bit more egocentric as it made me recall a strategy I used whilst teaching ten year olds in the early 1980s. I had quite a big mixed ability class that had a group of very able boys, particularly in Maths and the world around them and one or two very conscientious girls. I obviously needed a lot of open ended extension work so I had the "Reading Box". There were books from the school library which we all selected and a book in which comments were to be written thatnthenothersncouldnreadnto decide whether to read a particular book. These comments could be answered. There were no rules as to format or language although it had to be clear enough for all to read. The only rule was that, although disagreement was encouraged, no one was allowed to be rude about what was said. It worked a treat.
This looks like it could be a "grown up" electronic version, beautifully crafted by you.
@vivchook very kindly tweeted me the rules that her long term Book Club had used successfully, however I am inclined to think that, variety, flexibility and rule lessness should be the order of the day. Recommendations could come at any time. @roseofhurlo does not need to finish the book to make a comment.
In fact we could pretend we are a "gifted and talented" group that can do extension work when we feel like it!
We certainly have a very "gifted and talented" blogger in Denis to show us the way. Anne Powles
Anne: I don't know how I missed this very first comment when I found the one below – it's as if it appeared mysteriously later. Maybe it did. **washes hands of all responsibility!**
DeleteWhat you say makes a lot of sense. I am aware that this model might be a complete departure from what a Book Club usually is – a group of friends who know each other who want to share a book experience. Anyone might decide to come in here, which makes it a different sort of Book Club, but I think it's worth the experiment. I'm not keen on exclusivity, being an unrepentant democrat.
Thanks for the kind personal remarks, but I think anyone could do it. Now I'll post that I have written this reply, and the one to @mazpowles, to twitter. I'd like to hashtag it, but more sensibly to #TwitterBookClub than my #TBkClub as we now don't need to worry about 140 char limits.
I reiterate that I'm happy to relinquish curation to anyone else [e.g., @vivchook?] though of course we don't have a method of sounding out popular opinion on that! I would be very interested to see those rules, which I'm sure are eminently sensible.
One last thing: write your comment and save it elsewhere before attempting to post. There's little worse than to see it disappear forever!
What a wonderful idea! I think this could be a great place to talk about whatever we're reading (although you're probably not too interested in some of the tripe I get my hands on). Thanks, Denis.
ReplyDeleteThat was my thought. It's entirely free from restriction [at the moment anyway!] and an anarchic approach suits me. Now I might get round to a short review sort of thing on Mister Pip and see what the reaction is. Or I may even talk about the 12 or so books I'm reading simultaneously [as it were!]
DeleteDo others focus on only one book at a time or do you have more going on at once?
I am currently reading Alaine de Botton's Architecture of Happiness interspersed with some Who-dun-its. Anne Powles
DeleteI confess I'd never heard of Architecture of Happiness until you mentioned it. How did you come across it?
DeleteI notice there's an interesting review of it here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/08/arts/08iht-idbriefs9A.3833481.html
@deniswright
I didn't exactly grow up on a farm, and certainly not with horses (always been a bit scared of them to be honest, even in the compulsory tweeny horsey period), nor in the 1930s and 1940s. But my grandparents were dairy farmers, and we spent plenty of our early years on the farm doing farm stuff, town and city kids of school teacher parents that we were. And my Nana had a stroke while she was hosing out the cow shed after milking, at 72, and never recovered. A life of hard work on the farm. My Grandad stuck on for a few more years, grubbing thistles, milking, bailing and things, until another stroke left him writing notes on a pad to communicate with us. A farming life is and always has been tough. This is part of what came back and resonated with me reading Foal's Bread, a marvellous, inspired and tragic novel about our farming heritage.
ReplyDeleteThe horses and the jumping are everything in the book, beautifully portrayed but I kept thinking about three things. The brutal, relentless life on the land. The tough life for girls growing up in these times, with tragic consequences lasting a lifetime and beyond. And the terrible blows that life can deal people, but leave them, somehow, grand and glorious. I don't want to give too much away but (as per my previous tweet) the opening chapter is stark, stunning and devastating and it's sadness runs all the way through the book, not in a sentimental way, but in a terrible tough way. The relationship between Roley and Noah is glorious and unbearable -such pain. And the sadness of the mother, so tough, so beaten down by the relentless blows of life, so awful but glorious in the way she hits out in response, and so ultimately terribly triumphant stays with me. But also, so do the cats, the wonderful mostly warm aunties and the tough judgmental Nin.
Truly I think Gillian Mears has written a great Australian novel that captures a time and a piece of history that is gone, but a part of our culture that is still there, with all its awful and its wonderful bits. And, as this is my first attempt at #tbkclub, at blogging and at any sort of book group, please forgive the over-use of adjectives.
@roseofhurlo (and @roseofadjectives as it turns out)
Right. I'm going to post this as a new piece and all comments would be best directed at it there. Please don't comment on it hare. Hang fire!
Delete