Author’s note: This post was first published January 25th, 2011. I obviously have been on Twitter for some time now, but found this post entertaining nonetheless. Please feel free to comment. As I am busy climbing a mountain now, I’ll respond to all comments when I return. Thanks!
I’m in! I’m now one of the crowd. I took the dive: I started a Twitter account–and yes, it was as easy as pie. And the funny thing was, it didn’t hurt at all. No. Painless as an ice cold margarita on a Saturday afternoon.
With all this technology and progress, I sometimes like to look back a little bit. I don’t know if it’s genetic or simply the age I grew up in, but I’ve always felt like I was reincarnated, as if I lived in the Forties and was born again–literally–in 1968 after a long hiatus. I know in my heart that this is fanciful thinking, but it carries a certain reality for me, and I often wonder how much this affects my writing…?
Simply said, past ages fascinate me. What was the pace of life like back then? How did it compare to today. Was writing a novel a completely different experience without all the world’s information and resources at our fingertips in tools such as Google?
I think about the people who populated those eras. I puzzle and stare too long at the pictures of writers we all admire, wondering what floated through their transom on any average Tuesday, and how that train of thought might compare with my own. I play games in my head. For example, wouldn’t it be fun to imagine some of our favorite authors–some now long since dead–tweeting?
If you too have wondered these things, then today’s your lucky day. Behold, with a little modern magic, some Photoshop and a little elbow grease, we can see what a few of the best known writer’s might have tweeted, if given the chance.
Off the bat, I can see it now: good old F. Scott sitting around with Zelda, jotting off:
Or Hemingway, laying it on thick:
And who knows what kind of crazy stuff Lewis Carroll would come up with:
I can imagine good old Charlie Dickens adding his voice to the conversation:
What about Herman Melville?
Of course we can’t leave the ladies out. Jane Austen might have expressed herself thusly:
No doubt Charlotte Bronte might have quipped:
Standing in the shadow of these literary giants, I am indeed humbled, a condition in which I have spent most of my life, well in advance of the Twitter Age. Thus, and I understand the meagreness of my offering, upon opening my account today, I could but manage:
If you’d like to come join me on Twitter, feel free. You can find me here. Rest assured, I’ll see if I can find a way to be a tad more interesting.