Reclaiming time from social media by Christy Effinger #romance @WildRosePress #Giveaway

As I sit here trying to compose a wise and eloquent post for my gracious blog host, the iPhone at my elbow lights up with a notification from Twitter. I resist the urge to pick up my phone and read the tweet. This is not easy for me. I have become, in the last ten months, one of those people: a compulsive phone-checker.

It is a habit I am trying to break.

My addiction began in October 2013, with a publication offer from The Wild Rose

Press for my novel Say Nothing of What You See. My publisher told me to establish an online presence. As in, I needed to sign up for social media accounts and be, you know, social. (Never mind that there is plenty of anti-social behavior on social media; that is beside the point.)

I eagerly joined Twitter and Tumblr. I reluctantly joined Goodreads. I grudgingly joined Facebook. My distaste for Stalkerbook Facebook has everything to do with its creepiness as a company, and nothing to do with my author page having four likes, three of which came from my grandmother’s friends.

A few days ago I added Google+ and Pinterest to my list of promotional platforms, because why not? As the old saying goes, “You can sleep when you’re dead.”

But the dirt nap has begun to sound appealing. I assume they don’t bury you with your phone, the way ancient Egyptians buried their dead with tools and treasure for the afterlife.

Back to my addiction. The first step is admitting you have a problem. I reached that point way back in December and disabled all sound notifications for apps and e-mail on my phone. This simple action increased my productivity by about infinity percent.

My next move was to designate specific times of day to read e-mail. Efficiency experts tell us that inboxes should be checked and cleared on a set schedule. They also advise not to check social media and e-mail first thing in the morning. I know, I know. Don’t these people understand you have contacts halfway around the world who are sending important e-mails while you lie awake in bed, trying not to imagine your grandmother’s friends reading your first novel, which yes, in fact, contains a sex scene?

 My most recent act was to implement a social media Sabbath, which for me is Sunday. The witch-hunting puritans of New England mandated Sunday as a day for religion and rest, and while in my humble opinion the puritans were just a teensy bit uptight, I do think they were on to something with a day of abstinence from butter churning, cider pressing, and Pinterest. Also, I think we should bring back stocks in the town square.

So these are the basic techniques I’ve used to reclaim precious time. It’s not that I don’t want to be social; I do, and if you follow me on Twitter, I will follow you back unless you send me direct messages peddling magic beans and vitamin water. But I am a writer first and foremost, and also a lot of other things, the least of which is a tweeter. At some point I have to put down the phone and focus on What Really Matters, like finishing my second novel and watching my infant daughter suck her toes.

Now, if you will excuse me, I am finally going to check that tweet. I’m pretty sure it’s from Lady Gaga saying she just bought my book. Maybe she’ll be the fifth person to like my Facebook page.    

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Say Nothing of What You See by Christy Effinger

Published by The Wild Rose Press

Published August 29, 2014

Genre: Paranormal New Adult

Length: Novel  

When her aunt steps off a grain elevator into the emptiness of a prairie evening, Mira Piper loses her one protector. Chloe, her flighty mother, impulsively drags her daughter to Bramblewood, an isolated spiritualist retreat in northern Michigan, run by the enigmatic Dr. Virgil Simon.

Chloe plans to train as a medium but it's Mira who discovers she can communicate with the dead. When her mother abandons her, Mira discovers a darker aspect to Bramblewood: the seemingly kind doctor has a sinister side and a strange control over his students.

Then one winter's day Troy Farrington arrives, to fulfill his mother's dying wish and deliver her letter to the doctor. But calamity strikes and he finds himself a captive, tended by a sympathetic Mira. Haunted by her dead aunt and desperate to escape Bramblewood, Mira makes a devil's deal with Dr. Simon. But fulfillment comes with a steep cost...betrayal.

 

Buy Links:

The Wild Rose Press

Amazon

BN.com

Excerpt:

“You are absolutely stunning, Mira.”

I stole another glance in the mirror. The material was a rich, shimmery gold that fell from my shoulders in folds of liquid light. It looked like something a Greek goddess might wear. Oh, how I wished the girls from Amberville High School could see me in this dress!

“When you came here,” said Dr. Simon, “I had a vision of you like this. I looked at the girl before me, but I saw the woman you are now.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, gesturing toward the piles of clothes on my bed. “You’ve been so generous. I know you’ve spent a good deal of money on me—”

“Money means nothing,” he interrupted abruptly. “I have more than I could ever spend, more than I know what to do with. Don’t consider the cost.”

His tone was brusque, and I wondered if I had offended him.

But the next moment Dr. Simon smiled. “I think of you as my charity case. You were like a doll thrown out in the garbage. I simply rescued you from the trash, cleaned you up, and dressed you in something decent. But the beauty was present all along.” He touched my cheek. “Here.” Then he touched my forehead. “Here.” Then he touched my chest. “And here.”

I knew he was referring to my heart, but even so, his hand on my chest made my face warm with discomfort.

“You blush so easily,” he laughed. “You’ll never be able hide anything, Mira, with such a transparent face.”

“That’s all right,” I said, taking a small step back. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

Author Bio:

Christy Effinger’s poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in various print and online publications. She lives near Indianapolis. Her website is www.christyeffinger.com.

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