Liking, Favoriting, Reblogging and Retweeting [en]

[fr] J'ai tendance à trouver que "like/reblog" (Tumblr) et "favorite/retweet" (Twitter) font un peu double emploi. Pas vous? Comment vous gérez ça?

I’m increasingly bothered by what I perceive as a kind of “double emploi” of “liking” vs. “re-ing” features. On Twitter, for example, you can favorite a tweet (see my favorites here) or retweet it (it ends up in your stream for your followers). On Tumblr, same thing: you can “like” posts (that seems to happen privately, though, I can’t find a public page collecting all my “likes”) or reblog them.

So, yes, there are slight differences in functionality. But overall, a pretty big overlap. Should I reblog or retweet something without favoriting or liking it first? I honestly tend to reblog and retweet and neglect the liking and favoriting (though now I’ve decided to feed my Twitter favorites into Digital Crumble, I’m favoriting too on Twitter).

I’d be interested to hear how others manage their likes, favorites, retweets and re-thingies. I expect I’m not the only one with overlap issues here.

2009 Has Been a Good Year For Me [en]

[fr] Bonne année! Le cru 2009 a été excellent, je me réjouis de goûter 2010!

2009 has been a very good year for me. I expect 2010 to continue in the same direction, and be even better.

With that, I will soon have written my first post for 2010, and am therefore freed of the worry to say something meaningful to start the blogging year (which will mark the 10th anniversary of this blog, by the way) — be it about what 2009 meant for me, the world, or worse, what the last decade was about.

10 years ago exactly, I was in India, and that seems like yesterday and a long long long time ago.

Your normal programme here on CTTS will resume shortly. Happy New Year everybody!

Content Curation: Why I'm Not Your Target Audience [en]

[fr] Je suis trop efficace avec un moteur de recherche pour être très emballée par les divers outils qui visent à organiser la masse de contenu à disposition sur le web, en temps réel ou non.

In Paris, I had a sudden flash of insight (during a conversation with somebody, as often). Most services designed to help with content curation don’t immediately appeal to me because I’m not their target audience: I’m too good at using search.

I was trying to figure out why, although I liked the idea behind PearlTrees and SmallRivers (I tried them out both briefly), part of me kept thinking they weren’t really adding anything that we couldn’t already do. Well, maybe not that exactly, but I couldn’t really see the point. For example: “PearlTrees, it’s just bookmarking with pretty visual and social stuff, right?” or “SmallRivers, we already have hyperlinks, don’t we?” — I know this is unfair to both services, and they go beyond that, but somehow, for me, it just didn’t seem worth the effort.

And that’s the key bit: not worth the effort. When I need to find something I’ve seen before, I search for it. I understand how a search engine works (well, way more than your average user, let’s say) and am pretty good at using it. I gave up using bookmarks years ago (today, I barely use delicious anymore — just look at my posting frequency there). I stick things in Evernote and Tumblr because I can search for them easily afterwards. I don’t file my e-mail, or even tag it very well in gmail — I just search when I need a mail. I don’t organize files much on my hard drive either, save for some big drawers like “client xyz”, business, personal, admin — and those are horribly messy.

I search for stuff. And to be honest, now that I’ve discovered Google Web History, I’m not sure what else I could ever ask for. It embodies an old old fantasy of mine: being able to restrict a fulltext search to pages I’ve visited in a certain timeframe. “Damn, where did I put this?” becomes a non-issue when you can use Google search over a subset of the web which contains all the pages you’ve ever loaded up in your browser. (Yeah, privacy issues, certainly.)

What about the social dimension of these curation tools? Well, I’m a blogger. I blog. When I want to share, I put stuff in my blog, or Tumblr. I’m actually starting to like PearlTrees for that, because it is a nice way of collecting and ordering links — but really, I’m not the kind of person who has a lot of patience for that kind of activity. Some people spend time keeping their bookmarks, e-mails, or files in order. I don’t — there are way too many more interesting things for me to spend my time on. So I keep things in a mess, and when I need something out of them, I search.

I think I’m just not a content curator, aside from my low-energy activities like tweeting, tumblring, and blogging.

It doesn’t mean there is no need for content curation, of the live stream or more perennial content like “proper” web pages. But just like some people are bloggers and some aren’t, I think some people are curators and some aren’t.

Reading Online: Readability and Instapaper [en]

[fr] Deux outils à adopter si vous lisez beaucoup sur le web: Readability et Instapaper -- le premier pour rendre les textes lisibles, le deuxième pour créer une "pile de lecture".

Two tools you should learn to use and love if you like wandering around the web for interesting stuff to read: Readability and Instapaper.

Readability is a bookmarklet which reformats the main content on the page your reading, getting rid of the cruft and the way-too-small fonts to make the text comfortable for you to read. Before creating your bookmarklet, you can tweak the settings to your liking.

Instapaper also comes in bookmarklet form (and as an iPhone app) which allows you to “save for later reading”. When you feel like reading, head over to Instapaper.com and read all you like.

The combination of the two is just wonderful.

Je chronique, chronique [fr]

[en] I'm really enjoying writing my weekly column for Les Quotidiennes, and discovering that the constraints of the genre are giving me all sorts of ideas to write about.

Il y a un peu plus d’un mois, je démarrais mes chroniques du monde connecté pour Les Quotidiennes. J’avoue prendre beaucoup de plaisir à l’exercice.

Quand on pense à la créativité, on imagine que celle-ci s’exerce dans les champs du possible qui ne connaissent ni entraves ni limites. D’une certaine façon, ce n’est pas faux, mais la créativité, c’est surtout en présence des contraintes qu’elle se manifeste. Ce sont les contraintes, quand elles rentrent en friction avec les désirs et les objectifs, qui font jaillir la créativité.

Pourquoi ce discours sur la créativité? Parce que je suis en train de faire l’expérience, après bientôt dix ans d’écriture sur ce blog, qu’écrire dans un autre format, pour un autre lectorat, avec un agenda de publication fixe — bref, des contraintes — me donne un autre souffle. Le blog, tel que je le conçois, est un espace de liberté quasi absolu de mon écriture: j’écris quand je veux, sur ce que je veux, pour qui je veux, et aussi long ou court que je le désire.

Pour la chronique, par contre, c’est différent. Le public n’est pas le mien, c’est celui des Quotidiennes, pour commencer. J’ai un thème (relativement souple, certes) auquel me tenir. J’écris une chronique par semaine. Je vise une longueur et un type de discours “genre chronique”.

Et ce qui est dingue, c’est que ces contraintes me donnent l’idée d’écrire des choses que je ne penserais pas à écrire ici, sur Climb to the Stars — alors que je peux y écrire tout ce que je veux.

Vive les contraintes!

Du coup, je vous encourage à aller me lire là-bas. Pour vous faciliter la tâche, titres et liens vers les six chroniques déjà écrites.

Bonne lecture, feedback bienvenu!

My Journey Out of Procrastination: Perfectionism, Starting, and Stopping [en]

In addition to the five principles I described in my earlier post, two more really important things to understand regarding procrastination are:

  • how perfectionism ties in with it
  • how having trouble starting and trouble stopping are two sides of the same problem.

So, perfectionism. I think the link between procrastination and perfectionism is perceived by most people, but it remains a superficial understanding. Like procrastination, perfectionism is not something you get rid of by just “accepting you’re not perfect” or “lowering your standards”. It’s not that simple.

Perfectionism is often rooted in deep-seated fears of the sky falling on your head if somebody says something negative about you or what you’ve done. Just willing away this emotional component will sadly not be enough to free oneself, in most cases. So, just like procrastination, one’s tendancy to go for perfection perfection perfection needs to be treated gently and with understanding. Where does it come from? Do I really believe that people can love me and appreciate what I do even if it’s (I’m) not perfect? (Don’t answer that question too quickly… The answer is often “no” if you’re really honest with yourself.) What small experiences can I do to show and teach myself that the sky will not fall on my head if I don’t do things perfectly?

It’s also important to understand that one of the things perfectionism does is make mountains out of molehills: if your standards for what you want to accomplish are very high, it’s discouraging. You think about decorating your flat to make it the perfectly decorated place of your dreams, and before you’ve even finished imagining it you’re already discouraged and don’t have any energy to even get started. This is where tricks like breaking up big projects (or aspirations) into smaller pieces can come in handy. (For example, I’ll accept that my flat isn’t decorated, and take the small step of putting up one picture on the wall, even though that won’t make it “perfectly decorated”.)

When I was a teenager, I understood rather quickly that my desire to do things “well” was getting in the way of my simply doing them. In a way, I’d say I’m a reformed perfectionist: I’ve long ago decided that I’d rather do things imperfectly than not do them (I have a “just do it even if it’s crap” mode). I also learned that what I considered “crap” was often considered by others to be “great” — like that time when I wrote a quick and dirty page on what I’d done at a job, mainly for myself, and sent it off to my brother who was working at the same company, who then (to my horror) forwarded it to the manager, manager who then (to my utmost disbelief) got back to me praising the professionalism of my crappy document.

In some cases, you might discover that perfectionism is not the real problem, but a “constructed” problem designed to achieve a goal like help you procrastinate. It might sound a bit crazy, but sometimes causality doesn’t really go in the direction we imagine.

Starting and stopping are a good example of this. Almost all people who procrastinate will at some point say something like “Oh, my problem is just starting — once I’ve started, then there’s no stopping me, I’ll do what I set out to do. I just really need to find a way to get started.” I said the exact same thing. Then one day I realised (I had a little help for that) that the real problem I faced was not that I couldn’t start things, but that once I was started, I just couldn’t stop.

I’m a little obsessive, and once I’m doing something, I get completely absorbed in it, don’t see time go by, forget to eat, forget to feel, forget to breathe (!), lose myself. It’s clearly one of the things that helped me develop RSI all those years ago, but that’s not the only problem. It’s that although I’m being productive, I’m “not there”, I’m out of touch with myself, and I’m not really enjoying it, except in a kind of manic, compulsive way. This is not flow, by the way — it’s something else and it’s not healthy.

So in a way, I have a very good reason not to want to start things. I have a very good reason for procrastinating — it’s my healthy reaction against behaviour that makes me lose myself.

The way out, therefore, is to learn to stop. If you know you can stop, then you are free to start. FlyLady understood this very well, and this is why the “you can do anything for 15 minutes” mantra works so well. Trust me, learning to stop is not easy. Once you’re finally doing something and getting into it, stopping after 30 minutes (or whatever time you’ve set) is going to feel very counterproductive. But remember where the real problem is here: if you don’t make the effort to stop, you’re cheating yourself (specially if you coaxed yourself into starting because there was a clear time limit to how much time you’d spend on the task) and it will make it even more difficult to start next time. I find the way FlyLady puts it in her “How to Declutter” page pretty inspiring:

Decide how often you are going to declutter a zone. Do a little every day – use a timer. But be warned – this can become compulsive! Once you get started you will want to clean like a banshee! Don’t burn yourself out! Only do small amount at a time. The house did not get dirty overnight and it will not get clean overnight. When you set the timer you can only do two sessions at a time. This goal may seem unattainable right now, but you can do it in little pieces. In a couple of months, the whole house will be decluttered.

So, concentrate on stopping things, rather than on starting them. Set time limits. Flip the problem on its head, and you should soon see things changing.

L'importance du temps structuré [fr]

[en] I've realised that I feel better when my time is at least somewhat structured, so I need to figure out how to manage my "free time" (when there is lots of it, like during this staycation/holistay) a bit differently than "not plan anything and see what I feel like doing".

Ces derniers mois, et je dirais même cette dernière année, j’ai fait des progrès énormes en ce qui concerne la gestion de mon temps. Par cela, je veux dire que j’ai cessé de courir, cessé d’être aussi stressée, cessé de jouer toujours toujours toujours les pompiers. J’ai une vision assez claire, sur le court terme, de ce que je dois faire, je le fais, et en grande partie grâce au fait que j’ai maintenant un bureau séparé de mon appartement, j’ai aussi récupéré mes soirées, mes week-ends, et même des mini-vacances au chalet.

Bref, ça va plutôt bien et je suis très contente de moi.

Par contre, je remarque pendant cette période des fêtes, où j’ai décidé de lever le pied et de prendre des “vacances à la maison”, que si j’ai bien réussi à trouver un équilibre durant ma vie “travaillée”, ce n’est pas si simple pour le temps de loisir. J’avais d’ailleurs déjà constaté ça, à plus petite échelle, lors d’un ou deux week-ends très très tranquilles.

Je me rends donc compte que j’ai besoin de structurer mon temps (jusqu’à un certain point!) pour me sentir bien. Ça ne veut pas dire que je dois faire en sorte d’avoir un “programme” qui remplit ma vie du début à la fin, mais les longues journées de “libre” qui se suivent, ce n’est pas top non plus.

Tiens, c’était déjà pas top durant les longues vacances d’été interminables quand j’étais enfant.

J’ai aussi appris à quel point il est important pour moi d’avoir un minimum de routine dans mes journées.

Du coup, je réalise que j’ai besoin de gérer légèrement autrement mon temps de loisir, et de m’éloigner un peu du “je ne planifie rien et regarde d’un moment à l’autre ce que j’ai ‘envie’ de faire” — ça marche pour une journée (le week-end) mais pas pour bien plus longtemps que ça.

Solution? Pas encore tout à fait trouvée, mais j’y réfléchis, c’est la première étape!

Blog de voyage de Muriel [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).

Si vous aimez les récits de voyage, je vous invite à lire le blog de voyage de ma cousine Muriel, en vadrouille entre la Sibérie et l’Inde pour un long voyage plein d’images (elle est photographe). De beaux articles émouvants écrits avec humour — même si elle a eu des aventures pas tristes, dont une qui l’a retrouvée ligotée et baillonnée en pleine forêt après s’être fait détrousser, fusils au poing — et illustrés de ses très belles photos.

Ça vous parle? Filez donc lire les mots qui accompagnent ces images.

Crédit photo: Muriel Rochat, avec permission.

Ecrire en 2D [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).

Ecrire en 2D, oui, vous avez bien lu. Mais n’est-ce pas ce qu’on fait toujours? Une feuille, ou un écran, ça a bien une hauteur et une largeur, c’est-à-dire deux dimensions.

Certes, certes. Mais je ne parle pas ici des dimensions du support: je parle de celles du texte. Du texte? Oui, voyez-vous, un texte, ça commence en haut, ça finit en bas, et entre les deux on suit les mots alignés bien sagement. Un texte, c’est au fond une longue ligne qui se replie un peu sur elle-même pour des questions logistiques. Une dimension. Un début, une fin, et un chemin bien précis pour aller d’un bout à l’autre.

L’écriture en deux dimensions, c’est celle de l’hypertexte. Le nom l’indique bien, d’ailleurs: c’est un texte qui va au-delà (préfixe “hyper-“) des contraintes linéaires unidimensionnelles du texte classique (tout comme un hypercube est un cube qui pousse au-delà des 3 dimensions qu’on attribue généralement à celui-ci).

Assez de maths et d’étymologie: l’hypertexte, c’est le texte du web, et peut-être déjà celui des aventures dont vous êtes le héros qui ont égayé une partie de mon adolescence.

Un texte sur le web, ce n’est pas quelque chose dans lequel on est enfermé de la première à la dernière lettre. C’est parsemé de liens, autant de portes de sortie vers d’autres mondes et d’autres mots, d’autres textes pour comprendre mieux, expliquer plus, explorer plus loin.

Et quand on écrit un texte en deux dimensions, on n’aligne pas les mots de la même façon que pour un texte en une dimension. C’est ce qui distingue ceux qui écrivent pour le web et ceux qui écrivent pour le papier.

Ajouter des liens dans un texte, ça change la façon d’écrire. Et pour qui a passé sa vie à écrire en une dimension, c’est un art qui ne s’apprend pas du jour au lendemain.