Fubar on Nosy-Look

by Channie Greenberg


Dear Nosy-Look Administrators:

I messed up and am sincerely sorry. I was told to join social media to improve my author brand even though I don’t own a smartphone or even IM. More exactingly, I agreed to join Nosy-Look because of my moral compass. I thought I was letting my publishers down by not being more present on content-sharing platforms.

My imaginary friends disagreed with my choice; they thought that I was already amply linked to them. Also, some of my make-believe buddies told me that I was an idiot for making such a Nosy-Look mess.

On balance, their insensitivity is not your problem, but mine. It’s tough, some days, to manage a mental menagerie.

Regardless, I received my comeuppance. I no longer have a Nosy-Look account. Can you tell that I’m crying? My pretend Komodo dragon is laughing.

It was hard for me to get out of my comfort zone to make a Nosy-Look page. What’s the use if, after two entire days of posting pictures, and of inviting familiars, I have nothing to show for my investment? You cut my access!

Since I’ve been shut out, I’m no longer on route to being a social media queen. This situation feels really, really, harsh.

I tried to make a pretty account where I talked about life, the writing process, my pretend pals, and my books. The images I posted all were “G-rated.” However, apparently, I misunderstood about “familiars” and “fans.” Truly, social networking bewilders me.

When I started writing professionally, in 1965, at a print newspaper, my editor pulled my literal paper tablet from my hand and asked me to instead use a typewriter. In the late 1980s, my partner insisted I use a WYSIWYG computer rather than my typewriter. Both times, I freaked out.

My fictitious Komodo is still laughing in the background. Can you hear him? Try to imagine what he sounds like. He’s extremely callous.

Anyway, I thought that on Nosy-Look “familiars” were invented companions or maybe avatars. I added “familiars” from all over the world to build up my readership. I guess that was stupid. I had figured it was smart since I already had a prickle of make-believe hedgehogs and a singular, conjured Komodo dragon. I’m great with creativity, and I hoped your site would be one more place to which I could apply my wonky mind.

It seems that I was wrong. I now know that I ought to have been more careful when sending out invitations. I didn’t mean any harm.

Inversely, after joining Nosy-Look, I received uncomfortable connections. Someone got in touch with me about porn. Someone else contacted me about a questionable business venture. Was I supposed to report them? Why was my account shut down but their accounts are still operable? Even though I’m not tech-savvy, I’m pretty sure it’s not rule-abiding to send out pictures of naked people or to try to lure Nosy-Look members into pyramid schemes.

I have nothing more to say. My Komodo wants to add his thoughts, but I’m not letting him anywhere near my keyboard. My imaginary hedgehogs are asleep.

I wanted to create a Nosy-Look presence. I was ignorant. I know how to write fiction, not how to rhumba on landing pages. I’m great with my inner child, but crummy with grown-up high tech. The two, apparently, don’t translate.

In fact, I was surprised to see other mild-mannered, female authors of my acquaintance, on Nosy-Look! I found them when they “adored” me or commented on the images I posted. Don’t tell my hedgehogs, but my Komodo dragon was the most popular of my referenced critters.

I also learned that some of my writing students have accounts! They directly contacted me through Nosy-Look and told me that it was about time that I joined this century. They said nothing about either my hedgehogs or my Komodo dragon, though, and, I think, remain uninformed, despite this ill-wrought social media experiment of mine, about my fabricated, gelatinous wildebeests.

Additionally, the publisher, who told me to create a Nosy-Look page, has a “private,” “authors only” site full of people like me. Can you imagine? I imagine lots of things, especially alien beasts, but never envisioned such a social media experience.

However, now I have no access to my publisher’s “authors only” page, to my writing students, or to those other authors. My made-up hedgehogs told me that they are very disappointed that I can no longer interact with other writers. More to the point, they told me that they are disgruntled that you locked my account. Their lives are predetermined by recorded myths.

Is there any way I can amend this situation and start over? My internal zoo would be grateful.

At least, that porn lady and those guys with the scary business offer won’t be further bothering me. To a certain extent, I can also say that I made an effort to use social media.

Sincerely,
Samantha Zu
Champion of Incredible, Pretend Critters

PS: I encourage you to google me. I’m a real person. My author photos, as well as “photos” of my fabricated pets, are all over the web. What’s more, all of that art is computer-generated. If you look for me on the Internet, you’ll find links to my books, too. I’d love for you to buy some.

In short, it was never my intent to use Nosy-Look to phish or to engage in any other kind of evil goings-on. A scan of my driver’s license, complete with my actual headshot, per your instructions, is attached.


Dear Samantha Zu:

Your account has been reinstated. Be careful with your familiars. Also, please stop posting images of your cryptids. Those beasts are annoyingly cute.

The Administration at Nosy-Look

PS: For one hundred dollars a month, you can access Nosy-Look’s adults-only accounts. For one thousand dollars a month, you can buy stock in our company. Both offers are available for a limited time. Thank you for your attention.


Copyright © 2017 by Channie Greenberg

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