Catcher in the Rye: should it come with an age limit?

So, after the fantastic conference on Thursday, I took Friday off and stayed Oop North as my sister and nephew live in Leeds. So right now, my husband and my two-and-a-half year old nephew are rolling around on the floor, making squeaky noises and talking about going to the cinema and farting. As you do on Valentine’s Day; quite honestly I could think of no better way to spend it.

In between trumping conversations, re-runs of Groundhog Day and enough food to sink a small dinghy, my husband, Ashley, has been reading J.D. Salinger’s seminal work of fiction, Catcher in the Rye.

And… I’m not sure he likes it that much. Which upsets me.

I read it for the first time around the age of 14, and was the only person in a class of 30 doing English Literature GCSE to be encouraged to answer questions on it instead of To Kill A Mockingbird. Others asked if they should, and were roundly told no; I, on the other hand, got my best marks waxing lyrical about a mentally disturbed teenage boy struggling with the death of his brother. Make of that what you will (all I’ll say on the matter is that I write best about things that are fresh to me and I’d read Mockingbird at least seven times since the age of 9 before I came to study it and therefore my essays were probably a fraction laboured).

The truth is, I identified. I understood Holden’s irritation with real or perceived fakery.

Of course, once I got to a certain age, I never picked up the book again. My mother brought up this book I’d loved and asked why I didn’t re-read it the way I did other things, from Jane Eyre (at least until the stupid St. John bit) to my beloved Jasper Ffordes and Terry Pratchetts. And the answer is because I was afraid that once I lost the ability to identify, I would start to pity young Caulfield. Once I did that, the magic was gone.

Ashley, at almost 34, feels no such sense of magic. “Why is this considered a seminal piece of literature?” he asks, feeling a sense of sympathy but no real empathy or liking for the troubled, angry protagonist. I sighed.

It reminded me of when my sister – 30 years old at the time – finally picked up a copy of another long-time favourite that I’d fallen in love with as a teenager: I Capture the Castle. Boy, was I gutted when her sole reaction to this heartbreaking and funny book was “yeah, you really have to be a 17-year-old girl to appreciate that”. This is a woman who actually stuck out to the end of The Little Friend and actually liked it. No-one else I know – myself included, and all big fans of The Secret History – even managed to finish the damn thing. How is it the sloooooow-burning story of a little girl gripped her, but a burgeoning adult’s hopes and fears were dull?

It seems that as grown up, professional and married as I might be in reality, in fiction I’m still in my teens – and looking good for my age, of course.

Institute of Fundraising North Internet & Social Media Conference

Yesterday, we were rather chuffed to be invited up to York to speak at the IOF North conference that focussed on Internet, Email and Social Media use. One of the reasons why we were so happy to speak at it (and the Royal We here is me and the Digital Marketing Manager, Jacqui) is that it was all resolutely anti-jargon.

This was – somewhat like the Social Media Exchange we ran a masterclass at – a very practical conference. Of course there was some theory-based stuff, but we were invited to present a case study precisely because the entire point was to show charities how these things work in reality rather than just waffle about digital space and all that malarkey. Not that all that isn’t important; it’s just that very often by the time people have got to the conference stage they’re past that and just want to use the tools. The theory is great when you have time to concentrate on it, but people actually working in charities with limited funds, resources and time haven’t always got the luxury of that. Yes, they need to know why they’re on Twitter, but it’s hugely more important to encourage them to be brave, get on there quickly, talk honestly and see the results in action.

IOF North’s conference, expertly organised by Graham Richards, looked at exactly that, and it was a real pleasure to be involved. Jacqui, despite her nerves, gave a great presentation, and we re-created our double-act for the Q&A. It was also great to finally meet John of Bullying UK, who is brilliantly passionate about what he does, and the crew at Haworth Cat Rescue who really want to embrace new technology and were clearly grateful for the straightforward, practical advice. Best of all – for me – was Chris Garrett, who was new to non-profits but was exactly what charities need: an approachable, knowledgeable and very funny spokesman for blogging who’s used to getting financial results for companies. Even Beth Kanter rose at the insanely early 6am to talk live, over Skype, from San Francisco about how she actually went about raising $215,000 or Cambodian orphans through social networks.

This is what we need. Fewer consultants and more people who are used to the everyday mechanics of using these sites. Demystification, honesty, results. Case studies, practical advice and the death of technophobia. Well done, Graham – you achieved this yesterday. Long may it last.

Greetings: Take Two

So, after a hesitant start earlier today on this long-overdue project to build myself a teeny tiny corner of the Internet to call my own, I can finally greet you properly. Okay, the glue on the laminate flooring is still drying and it could do with a lick of paint, but I’ve made a start on most of the boxes and I’m ready to have a cuppa amid the tea chests. Have I spread the analogy too thin yet?

So, yes. I’m not going to tell you much about myself, because there’s a button somewhere to the right of this post that says “About Me” and you can learn it all there. Also, there’s a bit called “My Online Life” which is basically a list of places you can find things I’ve written. And I obviously plan to write a fair bit more here.

A word of caution; although I call myself a “Social Media Bod”, I don’t think of myself as a web 2.0 expert or digital strategist. That is, I’ll happily sit down and describe to you at length and in reasonably considered detail why I think social marketing is valuable and important and how I go about it. I’ll also tell you how I think you could go about it (it’ll be different depending on budget, sector and relevance). But I don’t dress it up in language like “digital space” and “e-communications strategy”. Online marketing is largely common sense, and involves being a real person talking to real people. If you want to hide behind fake names or have a lack of authentic communication, then I’m afraid I can’t really help you. I believe in demystifying the Internet, not creating more jargon. If, like me, you just want to have an effective, respectful conversation that happens to take place online then I think we’ll definitely get along.

Right. That’s the first awkward post over and done with. From tomorrow I’ll write for you like we’re old friends, stick my feet up on the virtual table and steal your Hob Nobs.

Nighty night.