Just got back from a week on the road, during which I got some good reading done (I’ll probably post write-ups of Bret Lott’s Jewel and Charles Dodd White’s Lambs of Men over the next few days). New books on my shelf: Degrees of Elevation (anthology of contemporary Appalachian short fiction), Tim Winton’s The Riders, Samuel Ligon’s Drift and Swerve, Peter Taylor’s In the Tennessee Country, Max Watman’s Chasing the White Dog, New Stories from the South 2010, and Elizabeth Spencer’s Selected Stories.
This morning I deactivated my Facebook account. Over the break, I ended up in a lot of discussions about technology, society, and what it means to be human, and I decided I didn’t like what the Facebook newsfeed was doing to my brain — too many short bursts turning me ADD, while also deceptively ruining me for friendships. For instance, I’d go six months with only “liking” a good friend’s status, which made me feel like I was keeping in touch so I wouldn’t bother with a phone call or an email, but at the end of six months nothing has been gained. Other people have written more eloquently about giving up Facebook here, here, and here, and a tangential point is over at the newly revamped Andrew’s Book Club.