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Thursday, June 16, 2016

My Goodreads Vortex

Put aside the irony of a blogger asking this. Which Internet site is most likely to steal hours from your life?

Although not immune, I've been pretty successful avoiding these time-sucking temptations. But it will surprise no regular reader to know that Goodreads is catnip to this book nerd. In a delusional attempt at "out of sight, out of mind", I initially resisted putting the Goodreads link onto my desktop when my previous laptop crashed. That lasted two weeks, maybe.

The problem for me with this book candy store is compounded because their fiendish designers understand how frequently readers are also list makers. I only stopped perusing one of their massive lists recently after my ass fell asleep. Sound familiar?

And the latest ugly turn in my saga? I recently began getting feedback on the book reviews I publish on the site. Ego stroked/attention paid = game over.

1 comment:

  1. Ah yes. Back to this subject again - productivity in your retired life versus leisure hours. Where should the line be drawn? Well, your blog has been a problem for me. I don't like reading a book you've recommended once some time has elapsed. I don't feel like I'm experiencing it along with you. The timing is off. No Internet site steals hours from my life, but I may be out of control with my discussion groups. Here's a short story I wrote, inspired by Sherry Turkle's "Reclaiming Conversation" and by a Thoreau quote.I hope your readers enjoy this tale because there ain't no way you'll be commenting on it.
    THE FOURTH CHAIR - A Short Story
    Bruce sat in a solitary chair when reading and reflecting. He added a second chair facing his, and invited Kathleen to discuss a novel with him. A third chair was added for a rotating group of friends who were well-versed in world events and modern trends.
    One day, without warning, Bruce's eyes flashed causing Kathleen to topple over. When the bewildered woman finally righted herself, Bruce had turned his back on her. Although Kathleen made every attempt to reclaim conversation, she was not able to engage Bruce in any way.
    Years passed. Kathleen found herself widowed and in a nursing home. Her mind was deteriorating. She fell into a detached, depressed state. Her doctor prescribed a companion robot for her. Slowly but surely Kathleen began conversing happily with her new friend. It was only after the widow had peacefully passed away, that a nurse noticed the sporadic flashing of the robot's eyes. THE END