Tonight I discovered a friend's Twitter page. Well, I was led there by the author. In the mood for mindless browsing, I bothered to scan through a few pages of material. My friend's Twitter page is cluttered with banalities, much like the home page on Facebook, which displays the multitude of updates posted by people in one's contact list. (I'm still waiting for someone to update from the toilet seat, about toilet-related business. Give it a few more months.) My friend posted a tweet about hiring Twilight on DVD, to "see what all the fuss was about", but frustratingly never followed up with a review. (I was hoping for a scathing comment about the Mills & Boon vampire nonsense, but I suppose I should've known better.)
The concept behind Twitter itself is ingenious, and — in the right hands — could be exploited to compelling effect. It would be great to have a stream of delectable tidbits to read. If only it could lure our favourite writing hands from their electronic hiatus. (Yes, I'm looking at you, and yours.) I probably shouldn't hold my breath, hey?
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