Author: Stephanie Booth

A Year Ago: Backup Awareness Day [en]

A year ago today, I hit the wrong “drop” button in PhpMyAdmin and completely deleted my blog. I couldn’t remember when I had last made a backup.

I’ll cut the long story of recovery short, but it took me nearly two months to get all my data back in place. I could have saved myself a lot of pain and worry and extra work if I had had an up-to-date backup of my blog.

I’ve always been sloppy with backups. Most people who are not IT professionals (and even them) are sometimes even sloppier still. We all know we should make backups more often, but we still live in the hope that we will not die theft, hard drive failures, and dropped databases will not happen to us. Oh yes, we know we’re wrong, but we’ve been lucky so far, haven’t we? Now shoo away those guilty feelings and get on with your life.

Well, no. I decided to make the 24th of every month Backup Awareness Day. A day to

  • blog about the importance of backups
  • give practical tips to actually do them
  • help people around you do backups
  • tell horror stories of lost data
  • do your own backups!
  • put in place automated systems.

You get the idea. A day a month to think about backups, do something about them, and raise awareness in your communities.

Unfortunately, I guess I had too much going on at the time, and I didn’t really follow through (I tweeted a bit, and blogged about it in June, but honestly, these last six months haven’t been very backup-aware).

So, this year, let’s make Backup Awareness Day a real part of our lives. I need your help for that. On the 24th of each month, even if I forget (I’ll try not to, promise!), tweet about it, blog about it, do your backups, and encourage those around you to do so too. Online, and offline. Can I count you in?

I’ve just hit that “Export” button in WordPress, saved a dump of my MySQL database, and plugged in the external hard drive so that Time Machine could have a go at it. You too — do these things now if that’s how you back up your important data, or do whatever you do to make sure your words, photographs, videos, and precious files do not evaporate in the event of a disaster.

I’m now going to mark Backup Awareness Day in my calendar for the coming months. (Of course, next month, Backup Awareness Day coincides with Ada Lovelace Day, which I’ll be telling you more about in a second later today.)

Update: Backup Awareness Day now has its own website at backupawareness.org! I’m going to need help with it, so let me know if you’d be ready to give a hand.

Wrong Place, Wrong Time [en]

[fr] Un autre récit de rêve -- double, celui-ci. Je suis navrée, mais ça sort toujours en anglais...

A dream.

I have a gift for ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time. For example, think of the day Obama broke our beautiful lake in half by blowing up a huge bomb under it. I was in Saint-Tryphon, the lovely town at the end of the lake, and watched as the water ran out of it through the crack, as swimmers tried to reach the shore, and as the first rows of buildings in Saint-Tryphon toppled over in slow motion under the afternoon sun to come and lie down in the receding water.

We spent the rest of the afternoon checking out our boats, which were moored in mid-air, lowering them so that they would be back in the water again.

At some point I fled. I ran through Saint-Tryphon, watching the wobbly buildings by the shore and praying that the people would get out before they fell. I climbed into the mountains, found an abandoned village, and spread the word. “The lake is draining itself!” Nobody really believed me.

Obama had smilingly assured me that the lake would stop bleeding out sometime in the evening, and that everything would be back to normal in a few days. He didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what he had done. I was just horrified.

Or another time, shortly after that, I had taken a trip to some middle-eastern country just in time to witness the explosion of a nuclear device under the sea near the coast. I saw birds fall out of the sky as they feebly tried to fly away. Why I was alive, I just couldn’t understand. A car with two military stopped and picked me up. We went to the command centre where for some reason, most of my luggage was waiting for me. There were some nice people there, but it was out of question to let me go back home.

I swallowed an iodine pill, and wondered why on earth we all had to be exposed to so much radiation. My life doesn’t always make sense to me, as you can see.

I was relieved to meet Cecil in the command centre. He was a friend of mine, and we plotted our escape together. Julie, one of the assistants, would come with us — she was a nice girl and also felt that she had nothing to do there, that her life was supposed to take another path. The trouble was packing (we had many belongings) and finding a way out of the country (that was Cecil’s job, being in a position of authority).

Amongst my most precious belongings was some jewellery, and a set of teeth (I know this sounds funny, but they were ivory and polished, and worth quite a lot in those days), as well as some pearls. Trying to get everything to fit in bags and boxes was a nightmare, especially as we couldn’t afford to have the other people in the command centre figuring out that we were going to make a run for it. They must have, because we even got comments on the size of our boxes, but they pretended nothing was wrong. Maybe they hoped it would go away if they didn’t confront it.

So we packed, and repacked, and repacked, and as days went by I became more and more anxious about leaving. We almost managed, once. Robert took us out to his helicopter. There were four of us, but Cecil was nowhere to be found. I was a bit worried, because Robert was completely loyal to those in charge, and I really wondered what the deal was with him taking us away. Maybe he was actually going to take us to a reeducation camp or a prison, and all our precious belongings would be taken away from us.

We never knew, because as he was fuelling up, he never passed the DUI test — and the helicopter was not up to standards either. I heaved a sigh of relief as we returned to the base, but went to bed certain that we had been found out and absolutely had to leave the very next day.

It didn’t happen the next day, or the one after that. It was agonizing. Cecil disappeared, after a long phone call to his family where I heard him tell his son he loved him very much. The day after that, Simon came up to me and gruffly told me that I was leaving, that Cecil had left instructions, and that he was my driver. Simon was not happy about it, but followed orders. I initially expressed surprise but decided to go along with it.

He scowled at me while I put my big box and bag in the boot of his tiny car. I climbed in, and we drove off. I didn’t need a Geiger counter to tell me how radioactive we were, and I hoped that we would not set off any alarms at the airport. I already had too much luggage and getting on board without attracting attention was going to be a tight squeeze.

As you can see, I made it out in one piece. I had to leave some of my things behind, but the precious teeth and pearls travelled in my jeans pocket (you know how TSA are with precious items in checked-in luggage: they just tend to disappear). I went through long and painful anti-radiation treatment, and thankfully today’s medical technology is keeping at bay all the cancers I should have developed as a result of such important exposure.

What was going through the minds of those people at the time, it really beats me.

Raconter une histoire [fr]

[en] I write a weekly column for Les Quotidiennes, which I republish here on CTTS for safekeeping.

Chroniques du monde connecté: cet article a été initialement publié dans Les Quotidiennes (voir l’original).

J’ai eu une révélation ce week-end. Elle concerne l’écriture, et plus particulièrement la fiction. On sort donc aujourd’hui un tout petit peu du domaine de la technologie, mais on y reviendra, vous verrez.

Depuis toute petite, je veux écrire. Des histoires. Mais, contrairement à d’autres aspirants romanciers, les histoires à raconter ne se bousculent pas dans ma tête. C’est même plutôt le grand désert déprimant.

Je vous passe toutes les étapes de mon cheminement par rapport à l’écriture ces dernières années pour aller droit au but: samedi soir, en lisant un livre consacré à l’écriture (pas moins que ça!) j’ai enfin compris que les histoires émergent des personnages qui les vivent.

Cette prise de conscience m’a fait l’effet d’un électrochoc: je faisais tout à l’envers! Depuis des années, je me torture le cerveau à essayer d’inventer des histoires dans lesquelles j’insérerai ensuite, un peu accessoirement, quelques personnages pour leur donner corps. Il faut bien faire vivre les acteurs, après tout.

C’est bien joli, me direz-vous, mais quel rapport avec la technologie qui sert de fil rouge à nos petits rendez-vous du lundi? Les histoires, justement.

Le cerveau humain aime les histoires (c’est d’ailleurs pour ça que les anecdotes gagnent toujours face aux statistiques, et qu’on continue à avoir une peur panique des prédateurs sexuels sur internet et des accidents d’avion). Quand on se lance dans le monde des médias sociaux, en ouvrant un blog, par exemple, on aura beaucoup plus de succès si on sait y raconter des histoires que si on se contente d’y recopier communiqués de presse et autres informations promotionnelles.

A la lumière cette petite porte ouverte sur le monde de la fiction, je relis mes conseils d’il y a quelques semaines pour bien écrire sur un blog, et je réalise qu’il y a maintenant des clés supplémentaires à offrir:

  • lorsque je recommande d’utiliser la première personne dans un blog, c’est bien sûr parce que ça rend la chose plus personnelle et que ça aide à connecter l’auteur et le lecteur, mais c’est aussi parce qu’en se mettant en scène dans son article, on a plus de chances d’en faire une histoire — une histoire réelle, qui émerge de qui l’on est
  • raconter des histoires vraies plutôt que de les inventer, mis à part la question éthique, est une question de survie puisqu’écrire de la fiction crédible est un exercise vraiment difficile et périlleux (sauf peut-être pour les romanciers confirmés).

Donc quand vous écrivez, souvenez-vous: on cherche à raconter des histoires, et une histoire, c’est avant tout l’histoire de quelqu’un. Encore une fois, les êtres humains sont la clé.

Plot Grows Out of Character [en]

[fr] J'ai enfin compris comment écrire des histoires. Les histoires naissent des personnages. Il faut partir des personnages et les développer et les écrire à la vie, et non pas partir de l'histoire elle-même.

“Plot grows out of character,” says Anne Lamott, author of “Bird by Bird (Some Instructions on Writing and Life)”, which I am currently devouring.

Today, February 20th 2010, I think I have finally understood how to come up with stories. The stories come from the people in them, the characters. Who they are, what they’ve been through, what they care about, the choices they make, the way they react to what happens to them.

I’ve always wanted to write fiction, but failed at coming up with anything resembling a story or a plot. I started writing 50-word short stories about 18 months ago to jog my creativity, and it has worked pretty well in demonstrating both that I am capable of coming up with story ideas and that it is possible to excercise creativity.

But so far, I have been concentrating on the story, and not on the people in it.

Recently, I have realized how very good I am at imagining explanations for the behaviour of people surrounding me, or people in general. I tend to have a pretty anxious personality, which means I have “Disaster Channel” playing in my brain 24/7 (fear not for my sanity, though, after years of therapy I have learned to turn off the sound and ignore it most of the time).

So, give me a situation, say, X. is late, and my brain will immediately and effortlessly produce half a dozen plausible and disastrous reasons for her lateness. As I have learnt, though, that Disaster Channel does not provide a realistic view of the world, I have also trained myself to come up with “reasonable” and “reassuring” explanations.

I’ll stop there with the dissection of my psyche. Suffice to say that I am really good at inventing a whole range of explanations for human behaviour. (OK, with a biais towards the disastrous, I’ll give you that.)

Today, at long last, I have realized that coming up with a plot is just that. A story is about people and their behaviour. Writing it is about coming up with characters that are believable, and listening to what they want you to write.

To prove the point, I have written no less than two “really shitty first drafts” over the last few hours.

I’ve unlocked something today.

Political Nightmare [en]

[fr] Récit de cauchemar.

A dream.

In a few hours from now, they are going to come and make our heads roll. The new government of New York City, with which we have worked for many months to ease the transition, is officially going to step into power — and we, as the old city government, have to disappear.

I don’t want to die! I knew nothing of this when I joined the task force. I’m not even an American citizen! When they say a career in politics is brief but glorious, how was I to know it would be so literal?

President Obama is here, fondly recounting his memories of making the heads of his previous local government roll. There is obviously something very important about the heads rolling well once they have been cut off.

I protest, my voice calls out in despair “I’m a Swiss citizen! I shouldn’t even be here!” but nobody seems to hear, nobody seems to perceive my anguish, and everything just goes on.

It does occur to me that Obama is still alive, but I’m not sure what to make of it.

They have paraded us through the city, half-drugged, half in a daze. I hope beyond hope that some miracle is going to save me, but everything seems perfectly orchestrated to lead me to my demise.

This is a nightmare. Literally.

I want to wake up.

Cinéma: Up in the Air [fr]

[en] As the editor for ebookers.ch's travel blog, I contribute there regularly. I have cross-posted some of my more personal articles here for safe-keeping.

Cet article a été initialement publié sur le blog de voyage ebookers.ch (voir l’original).

La semaine dernière, je suis allée voir “Up in the Air“, comédie romantique à la sauce “frequent flyer” avec George Clooney. Ça m’a rappelé avec un brin de nostalgie mes années de grande voyageuse: sentir la routine du voyage et des aéroports au milieu de toutes ces personnes émerveillées par cette rupture totale d’avec leur quotidien qu’est une expédition en avion, optimiser sa technique pour passer sans encombres les contrôles de sécurité, faire sa valise avec art, se sentir chez soi à l’hôtel…

upintheair-poster

Bien sûr, je ne voyageais pas autant que le beau George, mais assez pour trouver (personnellement) que c’était “trop”. Essayez d’expliquer à votre entourage sédentaire qu’il est possible de “trop” voyager…

Côté cinéma: c’est léger, drôle et sympathique. Un bon moment de divertissement pour les épris de liberté, sur fond de réflexion tout de même (sédentarité, nomadisme, relations et… perte d’emploi). A noter — mais je ne vous en dirai pas plus — une fin qui m’a agréablement surprise.

Google Buzz, il faut en parler quand même [fr]

[en] I write a weekly column for Les Quotidiennes, which I republish here on CTTS for safekeeping.

Chroniques du monde connecté: cet article a été initialement publié dans Les Quotidiennes (voir l’original).

J’essaie d’éviter de me jeter sur les sujets d’actualité, parce qu’il y en a assez qui font déjà ça, et souvent bien mieux que moi. Mais je vais quand même dire quelques mots sur Google Buzz, que vous avez vu passer dans votre boîte e-mail si vous avez une adresse Gmail.

Google Buzz, c’est la réponse de Google à Twitter et Facebook. Un flux de nouvelles provenant de votre réseau, auxquelles on peut répondre, un ruisseau de vie numérique dans lequel on plonge quand bon nous semble.

Jusqu’ici, et compte tenu du peu de temps que j’ai passé avec ce nouveau jouet, il y a deux commentaires intéressants à faire: l’un concernant la nature des publics auxquels on s’adresse via les médias sociaux, et l’autre concernant (encore et toujours) la vie privée. Et comme on pourrait s’y attendre, ces deux problématiques sont liées.

Le jour du lancement de Buzz, coup de fil d’un journaliste, ancien camarade d’études, qui me pose une question tout à fait pertinente: y a-t-il encore de la place pour un nouvel acteur face à Twitter et Facebook? Oui, clairement, il y a de la place. Il y a de la place, parce que l’élément déterminant dans les médias sociaux, plus que la technologie, c’est la communauté. Les gens sur Twitter ne sont pas les mêmes que les gens sur Facebook, et ceux-ci sont encore différent de ceux qui vont utiliser Buzz.

C’est la façon dont se construit notre monde dans les médias sociaux: des publics différents dans des endroits différents, mais qui se recouvrent partiellement. Du coup, on ne parle pas aux mêmes personnes via Facebook, Twitter, ou Buzz — même si certains essaient de tout centraliser-harmoniser-uniformiser en synchronisant leurs mises à jour sur tous ces services.

C’est ces publics différents qui ont été à la base d’une levée de boucliers assez immédiate et violente à l’encontre de Google Buzz, dans les jours qui ont suivi sa mise en service. En effet, Google Buzz propose de “peupler” votre liste de personnes “à suivre” en se basant sur les personnes avec qui vous chattez et correspondez le plus souvent.

Ça peut paraître une bonne idée a priori (ces personnes sont effectivement probablement des personnes importantes de votre monde) mais il y a un gros hic: Google Buzz est public, alors que nos conversations par e-mail ou par chat ne le sont clairement pas. Est-ce qu’on a vraiment envie d’exposer aux yeux du monde entier quelles sont les personnes avec lesquelles on chatte et on e-maile le plus? Probablement pas. (Pour ma part, j’ai été proprement horrifiée quand j’ai découvert que ma liste de “contacts proches” avait ainsi été rendue publique à l’insu de mon plein gré… enfin, pas vraiment à mon insu, car j’ai cliqué “OK”, mais je ne m’étais vraiment pas rendu compte de ce que je faisais!)

Heureusement, Google est à l’écoute, et a réagi rapidement à ces soucis de confidentialité en modifiant les réglages par défaut de Buzz.

Une source de confusion, à mon avis, est l’emplacement de Google Buzz. Eh oui, dans votre boîte de réception e-mail! Si c’est pas mélanger le public et le privé, ça, je ne sais pas ce qui l’est. Il faudra s’attendre à bien des confusions, comme après les changements dans la politique de confidentialité de Facebook, où l’on verra des internautes innocemment partager avec le monde entier des informations qu’ils destinaient à un public bien plus restreint… un des éternels problèmes d’internet.

Prendre son temps en voyage [fr]

[en] As the editor for ebookers.ch's travel blog, I contribute there regularly. I have cross-posted some of my more personal articles here for safe-keeping.

Cet article a été initialement publié sur le blog de voyage ebookers.ch (voir l’original).

L’autre jour, je tombe sur cet article du blog de Lonely Planet, Les plus beaux hymnes à la lenteur. Une série de suggestions que je vous laisse découvrir, pour voyager sans courir, parcourir le monde en se déplaçant à petite vitesse.

Je privilégie toujours la lenteur lorsque je voyage. Je suis de celles (et ceux) qui préfèrent voir (et faire) peu mais bien. Un tour d’Europe en deux jours, très peu pour moi. J’aime me poser, découvrir à pied le quartier dans lequel je suis, profiter du voyage-vacances pour ne pas m’imposer d’objectifs clairs en matière de “choses à accomplir aujourd’hui”. Visiter moins, mais mieux.

Les choses changent bien sûr, mais l’essentiel de ma vie jusqu’ici a été placé sous le signe de “trop peu de temps, trop de choses à faire”. Alors en vacances, je me rebelle. Je refuse. Je ralentis. Je m’arrête presque.

Concrètement?

D’abord, je marche. J’aime partir à l’aventure dans mon quartier ou ma ville d’accueil, une carte en poche, et me perdre dans les rues. Je sais me repérer sur une carte sans trop de difficultés pour pouvoir rentrer lorsque l’envie me prendra.

Je prends les transports publics plutôt que le taxi. C’est plus lent, c’est souvent un peu plus compliqué, mais on voit mieux la ville qu’on traverse.

An Indian Home (India 2004) 8Je lis, aussi. Oui je sais, quand on est en voyage à des milliers (ou des centaines) de kilomètres de chez soi, il y a mieux à faire que bouquiner, il faut visiter, visiter, visiter, au risque de rentrer d’une année en Inde sans avoir vu le Taj Mahal… Mais au fond, ce n’est pas si grave. Voyager, vacancer, c’est s’échapper de son quotidien, c’est faire les choses autrement.

Une autre chose que je me retrouve souvent à faire en voyage, c’est du shopping. Habits, livres… Une activité que j’apprécie mais que je ne prends souvent pas le temps de faire lorsque je suis dans ma ville. A l’étranger, ailleurs, même si ce sont les mêmes magasins (H&M a envahi le monde entier depuis belle lurette), je prends le temps de flâner, et du coup, d’acheter.

J’ai des souvenirs mémorables de traversées de l’Inde en train. Pune-Delhi, Calcutta-Pune, Delhi-Pune, Pune-Chennai, Bombay-Kerala… J’adore le train, en Inde. Il avance d’un petit pas à travers des étendues tellement vastes qu’on peut à peine les imaginer de Lausanne. Il s’arrête en rase campagne, on ne sait pas trop pourquoi. On lit, on somnole, on prend des photos, on discute avec ses compagnons de route.

L’avion, à côté, c’est presque dommage. A peine le temps d’embarquer qu’on est déjà ailleurs, sans avoir eu le temps de comprendre ce qui nous arrivait.

Certes, il faut être sur place assez longtemps pour pouvoir se permettre de “perdre” un jour (ou plus!) dans le train. Mais ça fait partie du voyage aussi…

Les vacances stressantes, ce n’est pas pour moi, en tous cas. Mes rêves, juste là? Des vacances à cheval, une descente de fleuve en petit bateau, et reprendre ces fameux trains en Inde.

20040209_steph_eating_train_food2

Just do it [en]

[fr] Parfois, on fait les choses même quand on n'en a pas vraiment envie.

“Just do it” is the answer many of us poor procrastinators get when asking for support from our non-procrastinating friends. And usually, it doesn’t help.

However, I’ve learned that there are situations where “just do it” is the answer. Years ago, I realized that I had become trapped in an excessive “what do I feel like doing” state of mind. I would wait until I felt like doing something to do it. I thought that I needed to feel like doing things to do them, and expected that at some point I would always feel like doing the things I had to do.

Probably too many childhood and teenage years what I wanted and what I felt like were not given enough place in my life, but let’s not dwell on that.

The important realization was when I understood that sometimes you don’t feel like doing things, and you still do them. You don’t feel like doing the washing-up, but you do it because you’ve decided that you wanted to live with a reasonably clean kitchen and clean dishes for your next meal. You don’t really feel like eating anything in particular, or maybe chocolate, but you make a salad, cut some bread, and put a piece of meat in the pan because you’ve decided it was important to have a balanced diet, even when you didn’t really feel like it.

And sometimes you work, or study, because you have an end goal in mind, or need to earn a living, even if you don’t always feel like it.

This is not to say you should ignore your feelings. But sometimes, for some people, listening to them too much can get in the way of living.

Google Buzz Privacy Issue: How to Hide People You're Following on Your Profile [en]

Yesterday, I got a call from a journalist about Google Buzz. I didn’t have much to say as I hadn’t read up on it and my account was not active yet. A few hours later I got a chance to play with it a few minutes before going out, quite liked it, left it at that.

Today, I’m pretty disturbed. Without going into deep analysis, here is the reason: Google Buzz displays the list of people I’m following (and those who follow me) on my public Google Profile.

Why is this an issue? After all, Twitter as been displaying followers/followees forever.

This is an issue because the default people Google Buzz makes me follow when I activate the service are the people I chat with and e-mail the most.

Chatting and e-mail happen in the private space. It’s nobody’s business who I chat with most, and who I e-mail regularly. I do not want that data exposed.

Buzz, on the other hand, is “public”. It’s Twitter-like. Come to think of it, I’m not sure it belongs anywhere near my inbox. (Wave might, though, but that’s another story.)

This is a nasty messy ugly mixture of public and private, where private information is suddenly made public without us being really aware of it.

Thankfully, there is a way to hide those lists from your Google Profile. Edit your profile and uncheck the “Display the list of people I’m following and people following me” checkbox on the right, as in this screenshot.

Hide people you're following on Buzz

I’ll quote from the article I mentioned above, for what Google should have done here:

The whole point is: Google should just ask users: “Do you want to follow these people we’ve suggested you follow based on the fact that you email and chat with them? Warning: This will expose to the public who you email and chat with most.”  Google should not let users proceed to using Buzz until they click, “Yes, publish these lists.”

Or simply, make these lists private by default.

Update 14:35: Suw Charman-Anderson has some thoughts on Google Buzz: Not fit for purpose that you also might want to read.

Update 12.02.2010: Google have reacted to the concerns about “following list” privacy and have planned some changes. Suw comments upon them at the bottom of her updated post.