I'M SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT DEACTIVATION

I have this urge to “deactivate,” but whenever I say, “this is it, today is the day,” I back peddle; I think about what Peter Schwartz, editor at Dogzplot, had said to me well over a year ago: James, I’m obsessed with what else writers do besides write and you’re living proof of my latest theory. See, you work teaching in a prison which is a real ass job, and so no surprise, your writing is very honest, intimate, powerful and…real. I want to read more of your stuff and invite you to submit to Dogzplot, so I’ll start by checking if you’re on FB.

That’s when it all started. I thought I was missing out on something. How could I ever be discovered as a writer without a facebook account? Still, I dawdled. Then my wife encouraged me to take the plunge and plunge I did—with 99 friends so far, of which most of them are from my high school years. Perhaps my timing is all off. I never sent a friend’s request to Mr. Schwartz, and even though I’ve got a few of my favorite writers and literary journals linked to my FB, I’ve been preoccupied with my 30-year high school reunion and whether it’ll even take place this summer.

So I’ve strayed.

FB was going to do for me what Blogger didn’t, or so I thought: generate an interest in my writing. Still, those rejection letters keep coming. And why shouldn’t they? That’s part of the process. And I’m fine with that.

But here’s what really chaps my ass: How FB can actually hinder your social life. For instance: about three weeks ago my wife and I stood in line at Lowes, waiting to make our purchase. Another customer was buying something directly across from us. She and I had made brief eye-contact earlier in the store and I had smiled. She, in turn, had quickly changed directions and ducked down a different aisle.

“Did you notice the lady across from us,” I asked my wife once we got into the parking lot. “She graduated from my high school.” My wife said she sensed an awkward moment at the checkout. I replied, “Yeah, I sent her a FB request and got ignored.” My wife knows that I’m fine with rejection, especially on FB because some folks reserve it for family, and hey, accepting a friend’s request from a convict-teacher could invite a bad element. I understand that. But what if I had never sent a request, would the woman I had gone to high school with such a long long time ago have spoken to me? Maybe. Maybe not.

Thus, I’m thinking of “deactivating” my FB account. I figure if I lay low for awhile, I’ll have been forgotten. Then I can “reactivate” with the intention of embracing the writing community. What do you think?