Have you noticed how nobody wants to talk anymore? We’re texting. Or we’re e-mailing. We don’t answer our phones, and our outgoing calls funnel into the bowels of voice mail. My greeting says something like, “This phone is surgically attached to my hip.”
Yeah, right.
Alexander Graham Bell must be rolling over in his grave. It feels like society is embracing technologies that make us less efficient. I know all these advances are wearing out my eyes faster. Does anybody really want to read a novel on their iPhone? And as for the on-screen keyboards—forget about it. They make me feel like my fingers need to go on a diet.
Wouldn’t it be easier to dial however many numbers it takes to reach the other party and then do the twentieth century thing and speak to another human being? But no. We shoot around e-mails and texts with the new vocabulary of the twenty-first century: OMG, WTF, and countless other acronyms whose meanings BTSOOM. Sometimes, the symbols make me feel like we’re abandoning the English language to new-age hieroglyphics.
Confession time: I love when my daughter texts me a <3. I always intend to reply with a @}—-,—, but I can never remember how.
It’s almost politically incorrect not to respond immediately. Which is ironic when you think about it, because writing consumes so much time. It’s so much faster to speak. Even on my quick e-mails and texts, I worry about spelling and verb tenses. I hate making mistakes. I proofread my words a hundred times before sending them off. And auto-correct is a feature that drives me nuts. I once sent a condolence note to my agent after his aunt died. Auto-correct turned the message into something that was totally inappropriate. Yikes.
I suppose texting and e-mailing have some advantages. It never fails to amaze me how my kids, thumbs blazing, can juggle sixteen conversations at one time. E-mails are convenient, when I don’t have time to talk. The truth, however, is that I still prefer speaking to people.
So, here’s what I propose for Tuesday, July 24. I’m driving all day, heading south on a book tour for The Trust. You can comment below. I’ll read and reply as soon as possible—which means when I’m not driving. But why don’t you pick up your phone instead and tell me what’s on your mind about anything? My number is 914-318-7000.
The New York Times describes my novels as “money porn,” “a red-hot franchise,” and “glittery thrillers about fiscal malfeasance.” Through fiction I explore the dark side of money and the motivations of those who have it, want more, and will steamroll anybody who gets in their way.
Love the rant, Norb! I feel the same about both texting and instant messaging. If you need me now, call. If you don’t, send an email. I hope your book tour is going great!
I’m in Sullivan’s Island right now–overlooking the scene of the crime in The Trust. Literally. 🙂
Here’s the thing — I was about to pick up the phone and call you, Norb. Then I looked at the time. On the east coast, it’s around 5 p.m., so I thought, maybe he’s out to dinner, maybe he’s speaking to an audience and signing already. I think we’re all afraid to interrupt people. We carry our cell phones everywhere — people know this — so they’re hesitant to call. It used to be that if you called someone, you knew exactly where they were, at home. I don’t even have a home phone anymore. So when someone calls me, I may well be at the beach, or drinking mai tais at Duke’s in Waikiki. But I’ll have my phone on me. And I generally don’t ignore it. The people who call me know this and probably think I won’t feel like talking. They’re probably right. = )
Doug, next time you’re at Duke’s I want you to call with a mai tai in hand!
I thought about calling you but don’t really have time to talk. So I sent you a text. I tell my friends I prefer emails and texts. I’m poor at editing myself on the spot and tend to blurt out things I don’t mean to say. At least email and texting gives me time to rethink/rephrase/reconsider. And hey, email and texting taught kids how to type. We had to go to summer school to learn the skill.
When I get to heaven I want to hang out with the AutoCorrect fairies—that group has to be funnier than a night at a comedy club. Can you imagine?
Great post, Norb. Best of luck and tons of sales on your book tour!
Thanks, Rochelle. Mary and I are prowling around Charleston this weekend. This city feels like an old friend.