Well, the draft of my crime novel is complete, and it currently in the hands of a developmental editor. While I wait patiently for his comments (and trust me, it has been a patient wait, as I'm not ready to delve back into edits yet), I thought I'd turn my attention back to something else that I'm just as passionate about.
Protecting ourselves on the internet.
For years, on the Editor's Blog on Black Wolf Editorial, I've been writing about some of the hidden traps associated with working online. Back in February, I decided to start a series here on my personal blog that delves into the mind of the bad guys who use the internet to prey on the innocent.
In the first post, I wrote about Twitter and how it's actually what we post that can be more of the security risk. Today, I want to look at some of the settings on Facebook, things that many of us never bothered to consider a risk.
]]>It’s been a while since I’ve written on my personal blog. This has been for a few reasons, the biggest of which I’ve been focusing on my fictional writing, trying to finish my crime novel.
Well, the draft of my crime novel is complete, and it currently in the hands of a developmental editor. While I wait patiently for his comments (and trust me, it has been a patient wait, as I’m not ready to delve back into edits yet), I thought I’d turn my attention back to something else that I’m just as passionate about.
Protecting ourselves on the internet.
For years, on the Editor’s Blog on Black Wolf Editorial, I’ve been writing about some of the hidden traps associated with working online. Back in February, I decided to start a series here on my personal blog that delves into the mind of the bad guys who use the internet to prey on the innocent.
In the first post, I wrote about Twitter and how it’s actually what we post that can be more of the security risk. Today, I want to look at some of the settings on Facebook, things that many of us never bothered to consider a risk.
It Start with New Accounts
Last year, my daughter got her first Facebook account. Youth need to be 13 years old before they can have an account of their own. While she didn’t want one the moment she turned 13, it was a few months later that she asked if she could have one.
Now, some parents might totally object to the idea of their youth on social media, and with the creeps out there on the internet, I don’t blame them for their reactions. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m the internet security nut that I am, I don’t think I would have agreed.
I followed the practices that I recommend to writers when setting up their accounts (using a dedicated email for administering social media that is NOT your general communications email). And I’m so glad I did.
It became a bit of a joke among my own friends. She had her account for all of 2 hours, and it was blocked, the system thinking she was a bot. We got back into the account, but the access lasted a grand sum total of 3 days, at which point the account was dead. The email it was connected to was redundant and could no longer be used for the purpose it was set up. Funny that. But because of the fact that I had used a dedicated email for the purpose (not her general communications), her main email address was safe.
Round 2: start the process again. Near on a year later, and she now knows that you can’t just go and like every single post under the sun.
But during that process of setting up my daughter’s account(s), I noticed a few default settings that were just asking for trouble. So, let’s take the time to look at them one by one, and we’re going to put on the bad guy hat while we do it.
1) By default, anyone can send you Friends requests. AND anyone can send you a Private Message.
To build your contacts list on Facebook, you need to build your Friends list. For that to happen, they need to be able to find you. That might not seem like a bad thing, but is it?
So, you’ve been taking part in a discussion Group for some time, and you’ve really made a name for yourself in there. But there’s this one person who always comments back on your posts and just gives you the heeby-jeebies in the way he interacts with you. You’re happy to have the comments on your Group posts, but that’s as far as you want to take the relationship.
One day, seemingly out the blue, you get the Friends request from him, and he’s sending you private message after private message. Sure, you can block him, but there are actually settings that you can take advantage of to stop this sort of thing happening in the first place.
Start by changing the “Who can send you friend requests?” setting to Friends of Friends. This is the tightest you can make it. What it means is that only those who are Friends with people who you are already Friends with can send you those wonderful requests. Mr. Creepy-Group-Guy can’t (unless he’s a Friend of a Friend).
Note for Parents: The default setting on new accounts for “who can send Friends Requests” is Public for a reason — so you can find the account and actually have at least one Friend before you lock the account down. Upon creating an account for your teenage children (minimum age for Facebook is 13), I recommend that you Friend your child BEFORE you lock the account down to the setting of “only Friends of Friends can send Friend Requests”. That way, only your Friends can find your child. Then it will snowball from there.
The Private Message issue is a little more problematic. Historically, Facebook did include a setting where you could specify that only your Friends could send you messages. For whatever reason, they decided to do away with it. I really wish they would bring it back.
But, you can opt to silence those private message from Mr. Creepy-Group-Guy permanently. That’s at least something.
2) Your Friends list is publicly accessible.
The default setting on new accounts for “who can see your Friends list” is Public. I’m sorry, but I don’t care who you are. No one needs to see who you’re Friends with on Facebook. It’s no one’s business. However, it doesn’t matter what your setting is, people can still see that you’re Friends with someone if they haven’t locked their own settings down.
Let’s say that you were at some rip-roaring party and there was this guy there that was a little creepy in an almost stalker sort of way. You don’t want anything to do with this guy, but he finds out that you’re on Facebook. Okay, you’ve locked down your profile so that only Friends of Friends can send Friends request. He goes to your profile, and you’ve never bothered to change that particular setting from the original setup. He now knows who your friends are. No doubt one of them will be stupid enough to accept his Friends request, so now, he can send you a Friends request too.
Or, let’s say that you have locked down your Friends list, such that only you can see it. But if by some fluke he is already Friends with one of your Friends. There name will appear as a mutual Friend.
The best case scenario with Mr. Creepy-Stalker-Guy is that he isn’t already Friends with anyone you know on Facebook. However, at the party, he overhead the names of your buddies. He searches their profiles, and your best friend in all the world is not exactly internet security savvy. Their Friends list is still public, and there is your beautiful face sitting on that list. Time for Creepy-Stalker-Guy to gain access to information about you through your Friends, and your Friends are letting it happen.
Note for Parents: You can specify a special category of “Friend” as a “Parent” and have your children share their Friends list with only those listed as a “Parent” on their accounts. This is what I have done for my daughter’s account. I’m the only one, besides her, who can see her Friends list. There is also an option to share your Friends list with specific people only. This would be a “Custom” setting.
3) Information in a phone directory can be used to find you.
Once upon a time, located on the corner of every street, you could find these things call payphones. Within each of these payphone boxes, there was a copy of the White Pages and the Yellow Pages (phone directories that you could use to find the numbers for the people you wanted to speak to).
The concept of the payphones has pretty much died in the wake of cellphones, but the phone directories are still lingering around, except now, they’re online. To make it worse, you can ask your local phone provider to add your email address and your cellphone number to your directory listings. This might seem innocent enough, until you discover that there is a setting on Facebook where complete strangers can use your email address or your phone number to find your profile.
The whole purpose of a phone directory is so you can find the contact information of people that you only have the name of. So, by keeping the “Who can look you up using…” settings on Public…
Doesn’t anyone else see of problem with this, or am I just too old school?
If you honestly don’t see the problem with this, I would like to direct you to a science fiction classic known as Terminator. There were only a handful of Sarah Connor’s listed in the phone book, and all but one ended up dead.
To solve this particular issue, you have two separate issues to deal with. First, change the Facebook settings for “Who can look you up using…” to Friends. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get any tighter than that. I wish it did, but nope. Second, contact your phone provider and have your name taken out of the online directory. Be advised that you might need to call them a few times about this. (It took me three months, and I don’t know how many phone calls, to get my own details removed from the online public directory.)
4) Search engines outside of Facebook can link to your profile by default.
This particular setting is just as bad, if not worse, than allowing those to track you down via your email or phone number. You have no idea who might be searching your name (or where they are in the world). Just don’t.
Note for Parents: This setting is set to No for any account for a youth under the age of 18, and can not be changed. The moment they turn 18, the setting can be switched to Yes. I don’t know if this happens by default, but my daughter is only 14 and my son turns 18 in September. I’ll be able to look at what happens to the settings then.
5) Your posts on Facebook by default are only visible to your Friends, but what about your other platforms?
Instagram has become the next big thing among the youth. Images are so much faster, and they seem to be big on selfies. However, through Instagram, you can cross-post your messages to Facebook. In fact, there are systems that you can use (particularly through IFTTT) where you can authorize an applet to scrap almost any social media profile and cross-post it to another social media profile. I use them myself, cross-posting my Instagram images to Twitter and Pinterest. (Cross-posting from Instagram to my Facebook is handled by Instagram.)
My Instagram is public. My Twitter is public. The page they are cross-posted to on Facebook is public.
On Instagram and Twitter in particular, there are only two settings for account privacy: public and private. Private means that you have to approve those who follow you. Only those who follow you can see what you post. For youths, this is the setting I recommend. For writers and authors, you want your Instagram and Twitter to be public, or what is the point?
Just remember that because the public can’t see it on Facebook, especially if you are cross-posting to your private feed, doesn’t mean that the public still can’t see it.
Note for Parents: For Instagram and Twitter, there are no default settings for Private accounts for youth. This is something that you need to set yourself. But do make sure that your personal account is following your child’s account. You want to be monitoring what they post.
Another Note for Parents: As a secondary hint for Instagram, have your child’s account cross-post by default to their private feed on Facebook. Then, within Facebook, set your “In Your News Feed…” setting for their profile to See First. This means that you will ALWAYS see their posts, and they will be right at the top of your news feed every time (cross-posted from Instagram within a matter of seconds). Even if you’re not on Facebook for a few days, whatever they posted since you last longed into Facebook will appear at the top of your feed.
It was because of these settings that I was able to catch my daughter out on her nighttime activities some months back, when she should have been sleeping. It’s a bit suspicious when she says that she’s in bed asleep and I see a post on my Facebook feed of something she’s uploaded to Instagram just after midnight — and she wasn’t even supposed to have her phone in her room. She lost her internet privileges for a month after that — restricted access while Daddy was sitting right next to her (talk about cramping a teenager’s lifestyle).
Social media is fun — if you’re smart about it!
Social media can be a fun playground, but if you honestly believe that it’s filled with fairy godmothers who are going to grant your most grandiose dreams, then think again. The internet is filled with trolls who are determined to ruin it for everyone.
It’s a breeding ground for spreading hate and animosity. Normal social boundaries seem to go out the window, because the monitor actually creates this imaginary boundary between yourself and the rest of the world. It’s odd how some people can be the nicest people that you would ever meet in real life, but you get them on social media, where that monitor boundary exists, and they turn into monsters.
As a parent, I feel it is my duty to teach my children how to navigate the nasty world of social media safely. Because of who I am as a whole, I share whatever information I collect along the way as far and wide as I can.
Social media is still in its infancy. Sure, Facebook has been around since 2004, but that’s only 15 years. We’re still dealing with only the first generation of users, and trust me, we are making A LOT of mistakes along the way.
Don’t be scared of social media. Don’t be scared of the internet. Just learn what you can, and take the steps necessary to keep yourselves and your loved ones safe. Social media can be a rewarding experience and lots of fun, but only if you’re smart about it, and do the best you can to avoid the Hidden Traps.
Nothing Found
As a country as a whole, this is going to be a long road back to any sense of normalcy. This event will change our perceptions of our home forever, and in ways that none of us can predict right now. A friend said to me that this event, in a way, is our 9/11. She's right.
But we will heal. How do I know this? Because I refuse to go into a shell and hide like a turtle. And I refuse to let others do the same.
]]>As a country as a whole, this is going to be a long road back to any sense of normalcy. This event will change our perceptions of our home forever, and in ways that none of us can predict right now. A friend said to me that this event, in a way, is our 9/11. She’s right.
But we will heal. How do I know this? Because I refuse to go into a shell and hide like a turtle. And I refuse to let others do the same.
I do apologize to my followers if I seem like I’m rambling at the moment, but writing is a healing process for me. It always has been and that will never change. Even in my youth, I would do the best I could to write out my emotions, to try to make sense of them with words. As you can probably imagine, so much is going through this brain of mine that I’m struggling in a big way to process it all.
I have a process.
Yesterday, when I wrote that blog post about Friday’s events, I followed my normal blog writing process. I wrote the post. I read it and edited it. I read it again. I added all the SEO, images and social media crap. Then I read it aloud.
Normally, when I’m writing my blog posts, I’m home alone or the family is fast asleep. Basically, when I come to the read aloud part of the process, it’s normally just me, myself and I. But my husband was up and had joined me in the lounge where my computer is hiding in the corner. So, when I was reading that post aloud, I was reading it to him.
When I finished, he started giving his feedback. “Aren’t you going to mention the 49 people who died? Aren’t you going to express your sympathy for their families?”
It was a valid statement, but at that moment, it made me angry. The way I saw it at the time, he was trying to add words to my mouth, and he was belittling everything that I was feeling.
Of course, that’s NOT what he was doing at all, but in the fragile emotional state that I was in, that’s where my brain leaped.
And, back into the analysis mode I went, spending nearly the entire day trying to figure out why his comments made me so angry.
I had lunch out with my husband, trying to make something of our 19th wedding anniversary (yep, we were married on March 16, 2000), and I had to try to explain something to him, something that I had recognized within myself.
There is a certain mode that suppresses all emotions, except anger.
On Friday afternoon, when I realized that something serious was going down (not really knowing what), I went into my scientist mode. That mode is all about facts and figures. There is zero room for emotions, except for anger and frustration. It’s an odd mode to try to explain, but I become so focused on a particular task that anything that deviates me from that task irritates me and has the potential of making me aggressive.
Since having kids, I have learned how to manage this mode to be tolerant of anything that those around me might do, so I don’t explode in their faces. I keep the mother hat on long enough to help my children through whatever stress they might be suffering too, but any comments that question my own reasonings and thought processes will be met with extreme challenge.
This is why I got angry with my husband with his comments about my blog post. I had recognized that I was still in scientist mode. Sympathy and compassion do not exist when I’m in that mode.
Then something else happened that I never expected. Later in the day, when I was at the grocery store, the scientist mode had crumbled away completely and I had a full-on anxiety attack. I managed to keep it together long enough to get home, but only just. The moment I walked in the door, I grabbed my husband, hugged him and broke down completely.
All of the emotions that I had been repressing came to the surface at once. There was no more holding them back. Fear. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Questioning my own sanity for the idiotic thoughts that went through my mind. It hit HARD!
My daughter came home from her ballet lessons, and she crashed too. She was tired, upset, scared, frustrated, hungry, and a whole other range of feelings that she couldn’t put into words.
The scientist mode has not completely left me. Right now, it has created a wall, trying to understand everything. I’m still analyzing, but the scientist mode has allowed me to recognize something so important about human behavior and depression.
We bottle it all up inside.
It’s human nature to bottle everything up inside, to only show the happy to the world at large. Society frequently insists that we hide what we’re really feeling, at the same time of sending the contradictory messages that it’s okay to feel sad. We, as adults, are forced to learn coping mechanisms to get through a particularly bad day, because that’s what society expects us to do.
For me, the main coping mechanism is to channel all the negativity into my writing. My writing buddies have jokingly called me the Queen of Violence, because so much of my writing is filled with dead bodies, maimed in ways that can be fairly spectacular. The fight scenes often ends in explosive deaths. The more violent, the better the emotional release.
Yes, this says something about me, but in the last 48 hours, I’ve come to realize that my form of release is healthy.
By sharing my emotions and insecurities with the world, even if it is only seen through my fictional narratives, I’m actually giving myself permission to feel all the negative things in life. I’m not holding it inside where it can lead to other issues. On particularly bad days, like yesterday, I reach out to those around me, borrowing from their strength, at the same time, lending them some of my own.
My daughter and I sat together on the couch last night, cuddled in each other’s arms crying together. It was okay to just break down. The house is our safe place. The walls of the house will protect us when the metaphorical walls can’t.
I won’t hide the confusion I feel about this insanity. I won’t hide the depression that I’ve been suffering from for over a year. It is real, because I am real. I share it with those around me, because it helps me to remember that it’s okay to feel this way. If by sharing this confusion with the world at large helps just one person recognize within themselves their own feelings, understanding that they’re not alone, then I have achieved the goal that I have set out to do.
Please. Do not hide your emotions from those around you. It’s okay to feel the negativity. You’re allowed to feel anger, hate, frustration, annoyance. You’re allowed to be afraid. Let others know that this is what you feel. Let them help you try to make the connections that you need to, so you can understand why you feel the way you do. You may not make any sense to the insanity, but just the simple act of accepting your emotions as part of who you are is a huge step on the road to healing.
In this, we are all one! We are NOT alone!
[optin-cat id=2579]
P.S. I’d love to meet you on Twitter or Facebook.
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© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
]]>No, instead, my worst worry has now joined that of many others around world.
Will today be the day that a terrorist takes my son, my daughter or my husband away from me?
On Friday 15th March, 2019, an unknown number of madmen marched into two separate mosques on opposite sides of Christchurch, New Zealand (my home city) and opened fire. They then proceeded to locations north and south of the central city, attempting to evade arrest while causing more acts of terrorism.
For the first time in history, the entire city of Christchurch, New Zealand was on lockdown. All schools, all malls, all businesses closed and locked their doors. Residents citywide were encouraged to stay inside. For nearly 4 hours, an entire city was held to ransom. And what makes it all bizarre... It happened in little, old New Zealand, one of the safest countries in the world.
Lives have been lost in this senseless madness. Families have been ripped apart by an act driven by hatred. Nothing can make up for that. New Zealand as a whole is now suffering.
Be warned, this is a LONG post, but I had to get it out, because so much is going on in this mind of mine.
]]>No, instead, my worst worry has now joined that of many others around world.
Will today be the day that a terrorist takes my son, my daughter or my husband away from me?
On Friday 15th March, 2019, an unknown number of madmen marched into two separate mosques on opposite sides of Christchurch, New Zealand (my home city) and opened fire. They then proceeded to locations north and south of the central city, attempting to evade arrest while causing more acts of terrorism.
For the first time in history, the entire city of Christchurch, New Zealand was on lockdown. All schools, all malls, all businesses closed and locked their doors. Residents citywide were encouraged to stay inside. For nearly 4 hours, an entire city was held to ransom. And what makes it all bizarre… It happened in little, old New Zealand, one of the safest countries in the world.
Lives have been lost in this senseless madness. Families have been ripped apart by an act driven by hatred. Nothing can make up for that. New Zealand as a whole is now suffering.
Be warned, this is a LONG post, but I had to get it out, because so much is going on in this mind of mine.
Before I get too carried away with the thoughts running around in my head, I should mention that my family is safe. Nothing happened to them, but it was frighteningly close. I had no idea how close it actually was until we were actually all home and eating dinner at the dinner table, sharing our stories of the day.
A Day of Writing Turned to Chaos
Yesterday started like every other day. I got up in the morning, rolled my eyes as my daughter freaked out a little as she actually realized what time it was, rushing around the house to get out the door for school. One by one, my daughter, my husband and my son all left for the day, and I sat down at the computer and got to work. I’m a full-time writer and freelance editor, so I work from home. In some respects, this was a good thing yesterday, but in others…
Anyway, I was writing new scenes for my crime thriller novel, completely unaware of the crime thriller that was unraveling only 15-20 minutes away from my home.
Time for a little secret about myself. I don’t watch the news. I don’t listen to the news. I don’t watch TV. I don’t listen to the radio. I have a TV and radio, but our TV is not connected to actual TV signals. (This particular issue was problematic yesterday, but I’ll come back to that.) I have a radio in the car, but when driving around, I prefer listening to my podcasts or the music on my phone. The only time I actually listen to the radio itself is when my daughter is in the car and she makes me. But TV? Nope.
The reason for my no-news habits is because I find the news depressing. I like my ignorant bubble of bliss. Up until yesterday, I could happily live secure in the safety that I experience in New Zealand. Yeah, after yesterday…
So, there I was writing about death and mayhem, totally unaware that the real thing was happening not far away. Then I got a text from my daughter.
2:22pm
I’m in lockdown
So I will be late for my appointment and the police are here as well
Pls answer you really need to know what is going on
That was three separate txt messages back to back, and I was in the writing zone. I didn’t want to stop to deal with my daughter’s dramas. (People, she frequently sends txt after txt, insisting that I respond right away. She rarely give anyone a chance to even look at the first message before she gets pushy. With that history, hopefully, you can understand my attitude.)
Anyway, this is not the first time that her school had gone into lockdown. However, all the previous times were actually just drills, lasting no more than 15-20 minutes. I honestly thought it was just another drill. Granted, I did find it strange that they would have a lockdown so close to the end of the school day (she finishes at 2:30pm on a Friday), but hey, stranger things have happened.
I responded with something along the lines of “Even if I have to pick you up from school, you’ll make it to the podiatrist appointment on time. Don’t worry. Check back at 3pm. It should be all over by then.”
Yeah… I honestly had no idea what was unfolding within the city.
Then I got a phone call from my mother-in-law.
Oh, Judy… I just wanted to make sure that you’re all alright.
Um… Okay. As far as I know, we’re okay. Why?
I just saw it on the news about the shootings in Christchurch.
*blink blink* Okay, then. That would explain why she’s in lockdown.
The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, because from that point, the writing for the day was over and I was on find-out-what-the-hell-is-going-on mode. Of course, my brain hadn’t quite registered what my mother-in-law had actually said. My brain had totally missed the word shootings. I was just trying to find out what was happening by going to my daughter’s school’s website, or searching up terms with my daughter’s school in the results. How crazy is that?
I sent a message to my son, trying to see if I was going to be expecting him to walk in the door at 3pm like he always does, or if his school was in lockdown too. That’s when it hit me. The words and the conversations sunk in. This was real. It wasn’t a drill. This was a living nightmare.
I phoned my husband to find out what was happening with him. He was just wanting to get on with his work, and also had no idea what was unfolding on the streets around him. (I found out later that his introduction to the events happening within our city was a phone call from his sister asking if he was okay. Just goes to show how little news plays a role in the everyday lives and our day-to-day activities, if it’s family that have to highlight what is happening within our own city.)
The Scientist in Me Took Over
Shortly after 3pm was when everything just shifted into that surreal state and the scientist in me took over: facts, figures and analyzing the results.
Fact: Two mosques were attack.
Fact: At least four individuals have been arrested, one of whom might not have actually been involved in the acts of terrorism.
Fact: Two car booms were discovered.
Fact: Every single school within the city of Christchurch was put into lockdown for several hours.
Fact: Businesses and malls throughout the city were also put into lockdown.
Fact: One of the mosques is located with 5 minutes drive of my daughter’s school.
Result: My daughter was freaking out.
Analysis: I had to do whatever I could to keep her calm. Don’t get flustered with her because she’s txting up a storm. Just respond and constantly reassure her that everything is okay.
Fact: One gunman managed to make it to Papanui (5 minutes drive from my house). The gunman was apprehended at Papanui High School (my son’s high school).
Result: I’m freaking out. That’s my son’s freakin’ school!
Analysis: Stay calm, Judy. By the time you heard about any of this, the prick/asshole (and any other term you can think of for this guy) was already in handcuff. You have seen the photos. He’s not going anywhere near your baby. Your son is safe.
Fact: News was spreading through social media like wildfire.
Result: I was able to get the information I needed about friends and family, and the facts about what the hell was going on.
Analysis: As much as we all hate social media, it was social media that kept many of us sane.
Social Media and the Internet were a Blessing in Disguise
Yesterday, for three hours, I was bouncing from conversation to conversation, going from site to site. Three separate txt conversations on my phone (my daughter, son and husband). Multiple conversations in various threads on Facebook. Three separate conversations on Facebook Messenger. And another one on Twitter. Then I had a Hangouts video chat going with my writing partner in the US (as she’s hunting down information on the news sites about what is so special about the attacks), and we were listening to national radio. (I say we, because she was streaming the audio and feeding it through to me. Sure I could have done that myself, but this way we were both hearing it at the same time.)
During one of my conversations, I found out that on 1News, they were talking about what was happening at Papanui High. Remember from above that I don’t have a TV actually connected to TV signals. Well, this became problematic. I was desperate to find out what was happening at my son’s school, and I couldn’t find the live feed. Sure, I was able to find lots of articles that all said “LIVE”, but they only possessed a little snippet of prerecorded stuff. I wanted the flippin’ live feed.
I found it in the end.
For those in New Zealand, if you don’t have a TV actually connected to the TV signals like me, sign up for a TVNZ OnDemand account. They’re free. But more importantly, on the website version (and probably on the mobile apps too), you can access TV1, TV2 and TVNZ Duke live feeds. Because of it, I was able to stream the LIVE news feed on 1News directly to my computer. I had no idea that this was even possible until yesterday when I was desperately trying to gain access to the live feeds, knowing that my TV is not connected to them.
Because of my conversations on Facebook, I was able to get word about what was happening in other parts of the city, and quickly. The irony of that statement is not lost on me.
The day before, Facebook worldwide had gone down, many of us joking about the world coming to an end and “oh dear, what in the world would we do without Facebook.” Yet, here I was, for three solid hours, glued to my computer, trolling through Facebook, trying to get any information that I could (and succeeding). I wasn’t the only one to comment on that particular fact.
And the way in which things unfolded… I’m well aware that one of the BLEEEEEEEEPs that did this live-streamed the entire thing to Facebook. I’m well aware that the world at large discovered the truth of the situation as it was happening, because of social media. I’m also well aware that the same BLEEEEEEEEP had posted messages on Twitter about these attacks in the minutes, possibly hours, leading up to them. Those acts on social media is why so many people hate social media. Social media can so easily be used to spread hatred.
But yesterday, social media also became the lifeline for some many. My scientist brain was watching how fast news was spreading around the world about what has happening in Christchurch and I was fascinated. The information was accurate and accessible. The NZ Police was feeding information on Facebook and Twitter. The mayor’s office was doing the same. Schools were able to get information out via email and txt systems, and websites ran banners about the lockdown.
Support networks were quickly built, so those of us who were home alone when this all went down were not actually alone. We were able to quickly get the word to our family and friends that we’re okay, passing on what information that we could.
If I think back to all of ten years ago, none of support that came through so quickly would have been there. Technology and our way of life has changed that much. I wouldn’t have been able to get the live news through my computer. I wouldn’t have been able to let my overseas family and friends know that we were safe that quickly. And I certainly wouldn’t have been able to know about my local friends and their experiences.
People Cope in Different Ways
As part of all of this, I actually sat at my computer, fascinated by all the bizarre comments that were coming through. I even laughed at myself and the way I was reacting to the stressful events. I don’t know if it was the scientist in me or the writer, but notes were made about the diverse nature of human psychology.
During the txt messages with my children, I quickly realized that my daughter was freaking out. So, I contacted my son and told him that he might want to send a funny txt to his sister. (At that time, I actually had no idea of the gunman running around his school, but we’ll ignore that little detail.) Anyway, shortly after that, I got a txt from my daughter saying that my son had just told her off for using her cellphone. OMG, seriously? I have my children at two different schools, stuck in lockdown, and they still find a way to fight with one another. And they still try to bring me into the middle to be the referee. It might sound heartless, but sibling squabbles via txt? I shall shake my head in shame now!
During the txt conversation with my daughter, there was a whole conversation about food.
Can you pls bring a egg sandwich with you when you come to pick me up
I wish that I went to the mall
Everyone there is getting free food
Of course, I had to know how she was getting this information. It turns out that one of her friends decided to ditch the last period of school and went to the mall instead.
Meanwhile, one of my friends who actually works in the mall posted on Facebook that she was stuck in Farmers. “But at least there are beds…” She went on to add that there was also Sky TV.
Another friend had posted on his Facebook that his family were stuck in lockdowns at the university and one of the local schools, but he was at home (with the doors locked). I saw that comment and had to actually look at my front door, smirking at my own reactions. We had gunmen running around the city, one apprehended only 5-minutes drive away from my house, and my front door was unlocked the entire time. And what was even more bizarre, even after I realized that the front door was unlocked, I honestly couldn’t be bothered getting up to actually lock it.
I look at my own reaction and laugh. What the hell was I even thinking?
5pm hit, and even more bizarre thoughts started to go through my mind. “Bloody hell. When everyone comes home, we’re going to need dinner, and I don’t want to make the pizza by myself. And takeaway won’t even be an option, because all the malls are in flippin’ lockdown. Everything will be shut.” I even posted something as such on Facebook, simply because I found the thought so funny given the situation. Friends posted back about having ice cream for dinner. Then the hilarity began as it became horribly clear that not only did we not have any ice cream in the house, but all the grocery stores would be closed too, because they too went into lockdown.
But in New Zealand? Really?
In all of the chaos and bizarre thoughts that went through my mind yesterday, there is one that will be going through everyone’s mind this morning.
How the hell could something like this happen in New Zealand?
There will be people out there who honestly won’t understand the magnitude of that statement. There will be those in the US who have gunmen rip entire communities apart, and they will ask that question: how could this happen? But in New Zealand, terrorism just isn’t something that we see.
Sure, we’ll have idiots who rob a bank or some other store with a gun and run. We have farmers who have killed their families, then killed themselves. We have murderers. But terrorists of this scale?
That’s what’s so difficult to fathom in all of this. That is why it took so long to even register that there was a possible issue. This is just not who we are. This is not what our home is like. This is not us.
It was so clear, so quickly that this was an act committed by neo-nazi extremists, trying to spark something against a small sector of our community. But whatever their goal of hatred, it’s backfired. All they have done has brought us closer together as a country.
This was not an attack on a small group of people. This was not an attack on my home city. This was an attack on New Zealand and EVERYTHING that we stand for. You made an enemy yesterday of an entire nation — of the entire world.
Our Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, said it best in her statement to the press last night.
We, New Zealand, we were not a target because we’re a safe harbor for those who hate. We were not chosen for this act of violence because we condone racism, because we’re an enclave for extremism. We were chosen for the very fact that we are none of these things, because we represent diversity, kindness, compassion, a home for those who share our values, refuge for those who need it. And those values … will not and can not be shaken by this attack.
We are a proud nation of more than 200 ethnicities, 160 languages. And amongst that diversity, we share common values. And the one that we place the currency on right now … is our compassion … and the strongest possible condemnation of the ideology of the people who did this.
You may have chosen us, but we utterly reject and condemn you.
P.S. I’d love to meet you on Twitter or Facebook.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or your favorite social media below. You can read other posts like it here.
© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
]]>We're now at the beginning of March 2019, and the experiment has gone completely awry!
]]>We’re now at the beginning of March 2019, and the experiment has gone completely awry!
I’m going insane!
Within New Zealand, the academic year starts early February. That wasn’t the issue. We got over the initial bumps in the road, where the stationary lists were only available online. It was the hell that started shortly after that, compromising my mental sanity.
Our weekly schedule is chaotic. Mom’s taxi is called into service five days a week, four of those days are for my daughter. She’s a dancer, and the dance lessons literally take over everything else.
Sorry, mom, you’re not allowed a life. Sigh.
I get a short window during the school day to myself, to work solely on my writing and editing, but lunchtime hits and it’s all go.
Four nights out of the week, dinner needs to be prepared early, so it’s ready to eat as people walk in the door. Hubby has Scouts on Mondays and Toastmasters on Tuesdays, both days needing dinner for 5:30pm. Daughter as dance lessons on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, starting at 4:30pm and going until 8:30pm (she eats somewhere in there during a break at the studio). Then the weekends are just nonstop taxi service around the city for both my daughter and son. There’s the grocery shopping, the visit to the veggie stand, and the list just goes on.
It is literally constant go with constant demands. And every week, I get to Friday, and I just want to kill the family. I’m sick of the cooking. Sick of the cleaning. Sick of doing it all.
Add the expectations of NO TV into the mix and you have a recipe for homicide.
Ironically, I’m not the one actually watching the TV. I’m normally hiding in the corner, reading a book, trying to pretend that the world doesn’t exist. Occasionally, I’ll be at the computer writing that murder scene that I so desperately want to commit. (My son has expressed his concerns for my mental health on more than one occasion. Books on poisons, improvised munitions, and homicide investigation procedures have not alleviated his fears.)
No, for MY sanity, I have given in and let my son play on his computer on Friday afternoons. My daughter has been allowed to watch whatever she wants (within reason) on the TV. And my husband will play on his phone at night, after pouring me that stiff drink before the weekend hell begins.
Where does the experiment stand?
For the moment, while I’m dealing with mom’s taxi hell, the device-free experiment has collapse into the black abyss known as “No way in hell!” I know I need to find a way to resurrect it, but why don’t I find a way to deal with my stress and borderline sanity first.
Perhaps, this will become a school holidays thing, when all the activities that demand the tight schedule are also on holiday. That sounds like a plan. That I can make work.
But for now, device-free days can go away.
P.S. I’d love to meet you on Twitter or Facebook.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or your favorite social media below. You can read other posts like it here.
© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
]]>The market is still flooded with sub-par self-published books, but things have moved on. With the changes that have occurred within the industry as a whole, the quality of the self-published works has gone up and the ability to get traditional publication contracts have dramatically become harder. And the attitudes about self-publication have now flipped and the stigma is now attached to the traditional roads.
For someone like myself, it is exciting times, to see these transformations within the publishing industry. However, the shift in attitudes actually make my blood boil at times—but not because of where the stigma now lies, but because of the way people treat me when they discover that I'm determined to go down the traditional route with my fiction.
]]>The market is still flooded with sub-par self-published books, but things have moved on. With the changes that have occurred within the industry as a whole, the quality of the self-published works has gone up and the ability to get traditional publication contracts have dramatically become harder. And the attitudes about self-publication have now flipped and the stigma is now attached to the traditional roads.
For someone like myself, it is exciting times, to see these transformations within the publishing industry. However, the shift in attitudes actually make my blood boil at times—but not because of where the stigma now lies, but because of the way people treat me when they discover that I’m determined to go down the traditional route with my fiction.
I’m surrounded by self-published and traditionally published writers.
As a writer, I’m blessed. In my local community, I’m surrounded by self-published and traditionally published writers. Most of them are incredibly open about their experiences, willing to share with me any of the pitfalls they’ve encountered along the way. And because I never once ask for them to defend their choices, I’m normally able to get that little bit more detail.
Because of it, I have been able to witness the struggles of both roads. And I’m able to piece together why the ones struggling to gain any traction are losing out in a big way.
Far too many of the self-published writers were incredibly quick to just get out there. They finished their books (and some of them are AWESOME books), but they only had the one. They had nothing to follow that debut with, keeping fans interested. One writer published her debut novel seven years ago, which was meant to be the first in a trilogy, and there is still no sign of the sequel. Another has done something similar, but hit stalemate when the pressure became too much. In both cases, they complain about the fact that their first book isn’t selling, even with it being out on the market for all these years. And part of the reason for that one: they don’t actually market their books.
Yet, I know others who have self-published and are doing extremely well. They have rightly identified their target audience and have amassed a following. New books are coming out all the time, and the backlist is finally selling itself. (The lesson there in this one is if you are going to self-publish fiction, you need a series ready to go BEFORE you published the first one!)
The traditionally published writers seem to be a mixed bag too. One is doing extremely well, finally getting the recognition for her talents from the publisher themselves—but it took her a good five years to get to that point. Another is irritated with the lack of support that she seems to get from her publisher. And another is only just starting into that venture and has no thoughts about it either way. Yet, there is one common thread among them: they all agree that the money sucks.
Is one path better than the other?
With all those around me who are either self or traditionally published, I’m able to piece together a road map to navigate those muddy waters. And I can honestly say that BOTH paths have their advantages and disadvantages.
I’m not going to go into the advantages and disadvantages here (partly because this is my personal blog and meant to be about my journey, and because that is a topic for an entirely different blog post that belongs on the Editor’s Blog on Black Wolf Editorial Services). However, I will say that I’m fully aware of what I’m getting myself into. Yet, whenever I have a conversation about my hopes and dreams, mentioning that the reason none of my fiction is published yet is because I’m going traditional, there is instantly this whole lecture that comes my way about how traditional publication is evil. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s not far off it.
In my post about the RWNZ 2018 conference (Damon Suede and Geoff Symon were so AWESOME!), I spoke about how the traditional vs self publication was a HOT topic. I get it… Writers everywhere were disillusioned, hoping to make their millions off their writing, but anyone who has read the numerous posts on my blog about my ultimate dream for my writing career will know that money is NOT my end-game goal. Sure, it would be nice, I’m not that stupid. However, for me, the ultimate goal is to see my books (plural) on the shelves of any bookstore in the world (western world). To get there, I NEED to go traditional.
When you get PAST the prejudice that now exists against the traditional paths, almost everyone agrees. If my goal is to be in the bookshelves, then traditional is the way to go. This is often followed by some variant of “You’ll never make any money though.”
Grrr… Even now, when I think about this attitude, it gets my back up. How dare ANYONE transplant onto me THEIR hopes and dreams. And it wasn’t just that rude woman about the bicycle at the conference either. (Read that full tale here.)
I can count at least three separate occasions where I have found myself having the exact same conversation in the past three months. All of them were with those who were self-published. All of them were with those who had never bothered to even attempt the traditional road (for whatever reason). And all of them had this delusion that my focus was about money.
People, I’m going to say this and hope at least some of you get it through your thick heads. MY ULTIMATE GOAL HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MONEY!
I can’t be bothered to go into all the little idiosyncrasies of the New Zealand market, which complicates my arguments, pushing me deeper down the path of traditional publication. I won’t explain my reasons as to why my target market is actually in the USA, again adding fuel to my reasoning for traditional roads. But I will mention that I’m actually a hybrid writer.
Hybrid is a thing too!
I am ALREADY self-published. Even though it was under my own imprint, Hidden Traps is by all definitions self-published. However, I knew that it was a book that would never make it through traditional means, because it is time-sensitive material, and was out of date within one month of publication, much to my dismay. Nearly 18 months later, and almost all of the software tricks discussed in the book are now out of date. Twitter has updated. Facebook has had a massive overhaul. Instagram was nonexistent in that book, and even WordPress is no longer the same.
Production lead times was a massive balancing trick with producing that book. Yet, I still had to entirely rewrite a few of the chapters after it went to the copyeditor, because platforms changed.
I will be putting out a second edition of that book, but I’m struggling to stay ahead of the platform changes, so I refuse to make any promises on release dates.
Because of the self-publishing options, I was able to get Hidden Traps out there. I was able to help spread the word about how these systems work. To me, that was important. That was the purpose behind that book. But if I was to believe the doomsayers who are so determined to see me walk solely down the self-publication path, then Hidden Traps should have been a hit. Well, it has BOMBED! I haven’t even made back the money that I poured into it. It was a massive loss. It was also a massive learning curve.
It gave me an appreciation of what the traditional publishers have to go through. I was able to fully understand the issues with typesetting and distribution. It also helped me develop a few strategies to help market my own fiction novels when I get there.
Self-publication is NOT better than Traditional. Traditional is NOT better than self-publication.
I don’t think I can say it any plainer. Neither road is better than the other. They’re just different. They have different challenges and different issues. They require different mindsets and different attitudes. AND they suit different personalities.
I’m absolutely sick of those who are self-published looking down at me because I’m determined to go traditional. I’m getting frustrated beyond belief with those who insist on imposing their goals onto me. Every journey is different. Why can’t people accept that?
I’ll leave you with this final thought: Remember that there was once a time when those going traditional looked down their noses at those who were self-published. Remember how frustrated and irritated you felt. Stop thinking that self-publication is better than traditional. Don’t misinterpret our actions with this incorrect belief about traditional. Accept that they are DIFFERENT.
Learn from the other group, don’t judge! You never know, you might discover something about yourself that you never realized.
ADDENDUM (19 Feb 2019)
Yet again, since this post actually went live, I have found myself in a position where I’ve had to defend my reasoning to be traditionally published over self-published with my fiction.
People, the publishing industry within New Zealand (the country where I live) is dying. The market is NOT here. If you somehow manage to get a publication contract with a New Zealand publisher, you can expect to sell in the order of 400 units. (That is not a typo, but rather a quoted number from one of the only remaining agents within this country.)
My target market is the US. I can not pound the streets to talk to independent bookstore owners from halfway around the world. Book chains within New Zealand do not stock books in my chosen genre unless they are traditionally published. Need I carry on with my emotional rant?
People, if you do not live in New Zealand, please don’t try to tell me that you know what it’s like to be a writer in New Zealand. I know exactly what it is that I’m facing, and having those from within the USA telling me that they can get their self-published books into the bookstores… Good on you. Keep going! But please, I beg you, stop insisting that I follow a path that I will NOT end in my ultimate goal. I have my reasons for choosing to be traditionally published with my fiction and you NEED to accept it!
Rant over. I hope!
If you are trying to make the decision for yourself as to which path you should go, you might find these resources from Jane Friedman as food for thought.
In this post, she discusses some questions that you need to ask yourself about what goals you have for your book and your writing career. In this post, she links to a PDF that she updates regularly with the advantages and disadvantages of both paths.
I have added the links to my personal blog, so I can find them in the future. No doubt, I will find myself in this argument again.
[optin-cat id=2579]
P.S. I’d love to meet you on Twitter or Facebook.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or your favorite social media below. You can read other posts like it here.
© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
]]>I always wanted the novel to be a cautionary tale about oversharing on social media and the internet. The more I delve into various aspects of internet security, the more I get excited—and scared.
I'm excited, because I know exactly how my serial killer is finding his victims—how he's stalking them. And I also know how he has managed to elude capture for over twenty years. As the writer of this creepy tale, this is fantastic. However, it also scares me, because I'm consciously aware that there will be some sicko out there doing exactly what the bad guy in my story is doing.
I've decided to start this blog series on social media and internet security on my personal blog in the hopes that at least one person out there will take notice and start to examine their own practices. If my ramblings can save just one person from becoming the victim, then I'll be over the moon.
]]>I always wanted the novel to be a cautionary tale about oversharing on social media and the internet. The more I delve into various aspects of internet security, the more I get excited—and scared.
I’m excited, because I know exactly how my serial killer is finding his victims—how he’s stalking them. And I also know how he has managed to elude capture for over twenty years. As the writer of this creepy tale, this is fantastic. However, it also scares me, because I’m consciously aware that there will be some sicko out there doing exactly what the bad guy in my story is doing.
I’ve decided to start this blog series on social media and internet security on my personal blog in the hopes that at least one person out there will take notice and start to examine their own practices. If my ramblings can save just one person from becoming the victim, then I’ll be over the moon.
On the Editor’s Blog on Black Wolf Editorial, I’ve discussed various aspects of internet security for years, but those posts have always been targeted toward writers building an online platform. Here, I intend to take an example, a loophole in the system, and explain how a bad guy might take advantage of the system, and how people just let it happen.
Let’s start with one of my favorite social media platforms: Twitter.
Twitter accounts are typically public.
I’ll gladly admit that I’m a fan of Twitter. The character limits force me to think through exactly what I want to say, and force me to edit to tight sentences. I get it wrong from time to time, with typos sneaking in and multiple tweets needed to fully explain my rant, as much as I try to avoid it. However, communication on Twitter is quick and simple, and I have made some awesome contacts through my interactions on the platform.
Yet, Twitter, like all forms of social media, has a major flaw: it is too easy to post.
You take a photo and you want to share it with the world. You’re excited. Rightly so. And you want to share that excitement with the world. Post that photo on Twitter, load the message with appropriate hashtags, and your message and photo are whizzing around the world in cyberspace. Instant likes and retweets, and your post is well and truly out there.
Because of the way Twitter works, accounts are typically public, meaning that anyone can see your tweets. They don’t need to follow you. In fact, Twitter provides mechanisms for you to follow particular people without following them. I do it ALL the time.
You can create a private list, add anyone you want to that list, and you can easily see their tweets—and they have no clue that you’re watching them.
Enter the stalker bad guy.
He see a picture of someone who looks extremely attractive. He examines her feed. It seems innocent enough: frequent posts about her morning coffee in that Starbucks cup. She posts other information, like the baseball game she’s going to with Random Date (who she had mentioned in her tweet by his Twitter handle). The bad guy clicks the link to the Random Date’s profile to see pictures of his truck just after its spit-shine. There in the photo is the license plate.
Okay, creepy bad guy has been watching this unsuspecting victim for some time and has envisioned many a date with her—not that he’s ever interacted with her. But he knows her daily routine just from her tweets.
From Random Date’s profile, he has a license plate number. DMV records are publicly accessible. Just a little bit of cash, and you have someone’s address. So now, the bad guy knows where Random Date lives.
Creepy bad guy has just progressed to the next level and has become a full fledged stalker.
This particular scenario IS happening right now to countless number of men and women on social media. What’s worse, they have no idea that it’s happening. For many, it will never progress past voyeurism, but there will be the odd one who WILL discover the real dangers associated with oversharing on social media.
The real issue is NOT restricted to Twitter.
The scenario listed above, which is sadly a REAL situation out there, actually has nothing to do with the fact that Twitter is publicly accessible. Yes, this complicates the matter, but the same exact scenario I can guarantee is playing out on Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, and countless other social media platforms. The real issue is what people share.
The chick in this scenario was frequently posting about her morning coffee from Starbucks. Sure, Starbucks can be found all around the world, one of the reasons why I chose to use them as an example here. But each store will be different. And if you combine this information with any location information shared about where this chick lives, one could probably narrow down exactly which Starbucks this chick frequents if you have enough time and patience—and the really scary bad guys always have enough time and patience.
To make matters worse, Coffee Chick is posting these morning coffee messages at the roughly the same time every morning. A pattern exists, and the bad guy knows it.
She opened up her boyfriend to this fiend by tweeting about their date and tagging Random Date in the message or the photos. On Twitter, this is an easy link to follow, and another victim has just been created. Even on Facebook, the damage is done.
If you are tagged in a post or a photo on Facebook, everyone who can see any posts on your feed will instantly gain access to whatever that post/photo is. It doesn’t matter if the other person is Friends with your Friends. Someone tags you, and EVERYONE from both sets of Friends lists can see the post. This can get nasty if that other person has a habit of making their posts public. (Don’t even get me started with this one.)
But Coffee Chick is not the only one to blame for the nightmare that she is facing.
The chick’s boyfriend made a massive mistake by posting a photo of his truck with the license plate number showing. DUDES, this is a FUBAR of epic proportions. As I said, DMV records are publicly accessible. In doing a little research, I’ve discovered that even I can place a few phone calls to the vehicle registration authority in New Zealand, and get an address for the person whom a particular vehicle is registered to. All it takes is time and a little cash—and I mean LITTLE cash, as in approximately $30.
With a little perseverance, time and money, the bad guy in the above scenario is making Coffee Chick and Random Date’s lives a living hell.
AND THEY LET IT HAPPEN!
Protect yourselves!
So, how can these two love birds protect themselves? Well, the first thing Coffee Chick needs to do is STOP posting about her morning coffee with clues as to WHERE she goes and when. Either change up the routine, so one struggles to find a pattern, or make things just a little more cryptic. Better yet, don’t post those sorts of things at all.
Sure, she could turn her Twitter account into a private one, meaning that people have to follow her to actually see her posts, and she can reject followers if she want to, but on Twitter, what would be the point? In fact, on any social media platform, if Coffee Chick doesn’t start making smart choices about what it is she is actually sharing with her followers, she’s could be in BIG trouble if she isn’t already.
Random Date needs to sanitize his account ASAP, removing ALL photos of his truck with his license plate showing. Remove any images with the letter box showing of the house. Remove ANYTHING that could give some creepy dude fuel for their stalker obsession.
It might actually be our past posts that are the most dangerous.
I want to shift this away from Coffee Chick and Random Date. Let’s face it, they’re screwed, and they don’t even know it. For the moment, I want to shift this to something a little closer to home.
Recently, I ran a session with one of my writers’ groups about internet security and social media. In preparation for that session, I reached out to one of my creepy contacts and had them do me a favor. I had them go through the personal profiles of particular people (namely the other women in this particular writing group) and dig up whatever details they could by way of what was publicly available only. I knew they had access to more sinister means, but I just wanted to show the women in my writers’ group of the danger that they were putting themselves in, just because of the information they shared with the public. I wanted to scare them.
I had it all planned, I was going to do this big reveal of what had been found during my presentation. I even left sinister sounding posts in the Facebook discussion group about it. However, there was one that I didn’t wait to tell her of the dangers. As soon as I discovered how much information she had publicly out there, I picked up the phone and called her.
“Are you near your computer? Because we need to lock your account down NOW!”
Not only did my creepy contact manage to find her home address (el idiottee, had posted a photo of mail SHOWING her address!), but my creepy contact was able to get information about where her children go to school, where she works, where her husband works, and everything else needed to make her life a living hell.
To say that I was terrified for her was an understatement.
I talked her through the process, and we had that baby locked down tighter than a drum within a matter of minutes. She knew she was making mistakes, but she thought she had cleaned things up. But when I was able to relay the information about where her children go to school, that was the only fuel needed to spur her into action. Her children mean everything to her, and she holds no delusions about what creeps out there could do to them.
We all make mistakes.
Nobody is perfect. Even my own feeds probably have a little too much information about my personal life. Hell, I’ve had to sanitize my own feeds, because of images I posted in my excitement in my younger years, when I was still new to this whole social media thing.
I’m not trying to scare anyone into disappearing from the internet worlds altogether, because I believe that would be career suicide if I did. No, all I want to do is to make people start thinking before they post those photos and other details.
Do you really need to share every aspect of your life? Does that image contain ANY information that could lead to a living nightmare if it finds the wrong hands?
I write stories where the bad guy is using social media to stalk their victims. I can guarantee that somewhere in the world, a REAL bad guy is doing just that. Don’t make it easy for them.
[optin-cat id=2579]
P.S. I’d love to meet you on Twitter or Facebook.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or your favorite social media below. You can read other posts like it here.
© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
]]>Let me just further build this picture for you.
I started this little device-free experiment, turning off the internet and the devices for one day a week, because my children seemed to be sinking themselves into computer games and Netflix, and I didn't like it. That first week was incredibly difficult for them. (It was difficult on my husband too.) But I pushed through...
The weeks that have followed have tales of their own.
]]>It’s been just over a month since my family started this device-free experiment. Each week seems to have presented a different set of challenges, along with some further insights into how the internet and technology has changed our lives. Things have been said that make me cringe, but when I take a step back and really look at what we’re doing, those comments really are a slap in society’s face.
Let me just further build this picture for you.
I started this little device-free experiment, turning off the internet and the devices for one day a week, because my children seemed to be sinking themselves into computer games and Netflix, and I didn’t like it. That first week was incredibly difficult for them. (It was difficult on my husband too.) But I pushed through…
The weeks that have followed have tales of their own.
Week 2: The husband was suffering from withdrawal.
The second week of our device-free experiment started with an interesting twist. The night before, I got the kids to bring all their electronics (Kindles and stereos excluded) into the lounge area. All good.
Well, the hubby went to bed really late. 3am and he still wasn’t in bed. I got up to see what was going on. I found him in the corner of the lounge sitting at my desk, playing videos and games on his phone. He looked incredibly sheepish. It would appear that he decided to get in a last minute dose of electronics (that lasted for hours) before the device-free day kicked into full swing.
It was beyond farcical, only reinforcing my decision to initiate these device-free days. He needed them just as much as the kids did.
Well, I went back to bed, ignoring the loophole he found in the system. When I got up in the morning, his phone had been added to the pile of electronics from the kids.
The day itself, followed pretty much the same routine it did in our first week, complete with our daughter constantly saying, “I’m bored.”
The following day, I got up in the morning to find that my husband’s phone had somehow migrated to my desk and the charging station that I have wired up for my devices while I’m working. It would appear that he decided to break our device-free rule after I went to bed for the night. Cheeky bugger!
Week 3: A different dynamic was introduced.
On week 3, my husband had to return to work. His two-week holiday over Christmas and New Year’s was over, so this added a level of complexity to our device-free days. We actually had it worked out how we would manage this. The rule had morphed to device-free home for that day. Hubby needs the computer for work. Kids, when they finally go back to school, will need their computers for school work. I would be the biggest b***h on the planet if I insisted that the device-free rule applied outside the home. I would actually impact on my husband’s ability to bring home the bacon, to use an old-world phrase.
So, hubby was covered for his hours outside the home. That left myself and my two teenage children.
Enter the temptation…
The Friday of week 3 was filled with me taking my son shopping for clothes. For some people, this might sound like fun, but taking a 17-year-old male who would prefer to be playing computer games 100% of his free time… Shopping for clothes is TORTURE, but it was something that needed to be done.
My son is entering into his final year of high school, and for the first time ever, he gets to wear mufti to school every day. NO uniforms.
Just as a side note for those outside of New Zealand: The majority of high schools throughout the country, including the public schools, have uniforms. I had to wear uniform in high school here too — in fact, I didn’t have to wear a uniform until my family moved to New Zealand, and I went to private schools in the States. To make life more interesting, ALL primary schools within Christchurch, New Zealand also have uniforms. This means that my children have never known any other way of life. The moment they started school at the age of 5 was the moment they started wearing uniforms.
So, wearing NO uniform is a big deal for a teenager. Except my son doesn’t really care about fashion. What he cares about is being comfortable.
To my pleasure, he has chosen to not wear sloppy clothes to school for the coming year. He wanted me to get him button-up shirts and some nice hoodies (expensive ones that I managed to get on sale). He still intends to wear jeans most days, but with the nice shirt, he won’t look like a scruff bucket. At least that will be the case, until he is in desperate need of a haircut.
Well, between finding new shoes (NO black school shoes for the first time in 12 years) and the new shirts, and some shorts because he was dying in the summer heat, our little shopping excursion took several hours. My daughter… well…
My daughter was home alone. She’s old enough, and responsible enough, so it wasn’t a big deal. However, I could tell that she was incredibly tempted to break the device-free rule and delve into the TV. She even admitted as much, but she never did, because she was afraid that I would come in the door at any moment and catch her. She admitted that she was tempted to go on her computer, but she doesn’t have a clue how to be fast enough to hide what she’s doing. She decided against it for the same reasons that she decided against going on the TV. The tablets were flat—they’re so old that the battery life on those things are erratic. And she couldn’t find her phone — because I HID IT!
So, while my son and I were out shopping, my daughter was honoring out device-free rule — reluctantly.
When my husband came home from work, he passed me his phone, and the rest of the evening went by without a glitch. The hubby didn’t even feel the need to sneak his phone after I went to bed. (He must have gotten his fill while at work.)
Week 4 and life is being hindered.
We hit week 4 and the realities of how much we have come to rely on technology and the internet has hit hard. The cold turkey, device-free philosophy was even impacting on me!
I’m a writer and freelance editor. So much of what I do is on the computer. While I’ve put in place strategies so I can continue to write using device-free methods, editing and actually running a business is not a device-free activity. There were things that I needed to do, but couldn’t.
While the kids were still in bed, I broke all the rules and I was on that phone getting in there: sending emails, responding to ads, networking with writers and other editors on Facebook. I had hoped to be finished with all of it by the time my son got up, so he would never know.
FAIL!
He actually told me off for being on device.
“I’m working,” I snapped back, though it wasn’t 100% true. Some of the Facebook interactions weren’t necessary, but networking itself is.
Let’s just say that I’m actually looking forward to the kids going back to school. Not only are they driving me crazy, but this device-free rule is impacting on my writing and editing productivity.
But the rule breaking of the device-free rule didn’t stop there.
My son needed to pack some gear for the camp that he’s attending the week before school starts (he’s going to be a peer support leader, helping the Year 9 students settle in to the school). He needed the gear list. It was online. “Mum, can I boot up my computer so I can print out my gear list.”
Of course, I agreed to let him. After he caught me on my phone, how could I not?
Then we made the decision that we needed to get the stationery for the coming year. Crap… The lists are online. So, I logged into my tablet and found the file needed, then printed it out.
Then… Phone call from hubby. “Do me a favor and scan in a copy of my passport. I need it.”
To this, my daughter responded, “You’re ruining device-free day.” Never mind, she was standing right next to me as I had broken the device-free rule for the third time already that day, just to print out her stationery list.
So, boot up the computer and do what I needed to do to get the scanned file to my husband.
And to top off the device-free rule breaking… I had dropped of the dry cleaning (hubby’s work pants and daughter’s school blazer), only to spend what I swear was 10 to 15 minutes just sitting in my car in the car park, farting around on social media (Facebook and Twitter). None of that was necessary, but I did it anyway. I wasn’t in the house. I wasn’t at home. Surely, it was okay. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, knowing that it’s a lie!
As we progressed into the later morning, I needed to take my daughter to the store to get new sports uniform. There is only one store that I could go to, as there is only one store stocking the new uniforms for her school. AND the store is located in a part of the city that I don’t know very well. Ugh! Out comes the smart phone for yet ANOTHER device-free rule breaking experience. Program the address into Google Maps and give me the GPS directions, so I don’t get lost.
Yeah, it’s safe to say that the device-free policy was actually impacting on life as a whole. Sure, there weren’t any TV binge moments, and no one played computer games, but OMG, I never realized how much of our lives revolved around internet-based communication.
I do feel good about the fact that not once did one of us sneak off to play a computer game or watch Netflix. The hubby did listen to his music through his phone while he was doing dishes, and the daughter had the radio blaring while she attacked the mess left in the wake of the tornado that had hit her room, but when it came to general entertainment, we all found other things to do.
My son even started a puzzle that I’ve had for years with over 1000 pieces. He’s making fantastic progress on it too. I did a massive cleanup of my desk, decluttering the mess, to make it easier for me to work in device-free mode when writing. My daughter pulled out some artwork (I look forward to seeing the finished pieces), and my husband pulled out his Kindle and downlowded one of the many books that I’ve recently purchased.
Still a week of holidays, but this rule will be permanent.
We still have a week left of the school holidays before the summer is over. That’s only one more device-free day where the entire day will be affected. After that, the rule changes.
While the kids are at school, the device-free house rule is lifted. I will be able to do whatever I want on any device I choose during that time. I’ll be able to actually write directly into the computer, or edit and network. I’ll be able to WORK!
After only a few hours of progress, the star chart puzzle is looking pretty good. I did this puzzle myself as a summer project in my teen years.
However, from the point that the first child walks in the door, I’ll have 30 minutes to bring to an end whatever it is that I’m working on and sign off for the night. From that point, the house becomes a device-free home for the remainder of the night. It will continue to be only one day a week. It’s called baby steps here. No need to torture everyone all the time. But I think it’s going to be good, if for no other reason than to remind ourselves that there is more to life than what one can find on the internet.
I'm a writer. I'm an editor. I do have knowledge that I like to share, but I should be writing!
Saying that, this is NOT the end of the science from me. Science is in my blood. It's a part of who I am and my family. I have always had a way of explaining science in a way that others can understand, so that is NEVER going away. Instead of talking it out, I'll just write it.
]]>I’m a writer. I’m an editor. I do have knowledge that I like to share, but I should be writing!
Saying that, this is NOT the end of the science from me. Science is in my blood. It’s a part of who I am and my family. I have always had a way of explaining science in a way that others can understand, so that is NEVER going away. Instead of talking it out, I’ll just write it.
I still don’t know how it happened.
In September of 2016, I found myself in a situation where I suddenly had a radio podcast about science. I had been consulting with KLRNRadio about various science-related topics, including the topic that started it all: heavy water.
Jessie Sanders was doing a episode on her current events show about the concerns the public had about Iran having so much heavy water, and she was a little more than confused. “Isn’t it just water?” I went on the show and explained the science behind heavy water (and other things). When we finished recording, she said, “Well, Judy, we’ve just finished recording your first episode of Conversations in Science.”
Blink. Blink. “Say what?”
Then she got my husband in on the argument. OMG, I never had a chance. The law had been laid down and I was doing it.
What the…? All righty then.
Don’t get me wrong. It was fun to do. Jessie and I had great chemistry on the air. However, two years down the road and external circumstances started to play on my enthusiasm for the show—and I think listeners had noticed. Episodes were no longer regularly scheduled and recorded episodes were taking forever to actually air. (I won’t go into all the details about that one. Let’s just say that there were a whole range of things involved on both sides of the equation.)
In August 2018, nearly two years after this adventure had started, I decided to leave KLRNRadio. One of the reasons for this was because of the highly political nature of the station. I have no issues with the station being political—that is why it was first started in the first place, to give the people a place where they can voice their opinions, regardless of what side of the fence they sit on—but the politics was actually costing me guests for my show.
(I actually had a NASA control room operator lined up, until NASA pulled the plug because of the political nature of the station. But I never told anyone about it, not even my producer, because I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. When it fell through, the only one disappointed was myself.)
If I wanted to make a good go of the show, I needed to remove myself from the politics. I started taking steps for an independent start come December 2018. Then all my plans fell through. Everything that I had in place quickly crumbled, and I was forced to reexamine my priorities.
I’m a writer first and foremost.
During November of every year, writers around the world take part in the NaNoWriMo challenge. This challenge is where writers dedicate themselves to their writing. I’m the municipal liaison for Christchurch, New Zealand, and I have been so since 2015.
One of the things that I regularly advocate during NaNoWriMo is that writers should not focus on the word counts for the challenge itself, but turn their efforts into making writing a habit, something they can carry through into their future writing careers. Part of that is to determine where you want your writing to take you. That’s when it hit me!
I have spent so much time and energy on the radio podcast, and it was taking my focus away from what was important to me. The podcast was not my idea in the first place. I still don’t know exactly how it all happened. I just know that it did. One moment, I was recording with Jessie about the science of heavy water, and the next, I was recording promos, intros, and creating graphics for a new show. All the while, my own writing wasn’t getting done, because what free time I had left, I was putting into Black Wolf (something that is my baby!). However, even during November 2018, I didn’t want to accept the truth of what I knew in my heart. I continued to look into options for taking ConvoScience independent (including building a new website with a new domain).
Then my annual review of my hopes and dreams, and my goals for the coming year. That’s when I realized I was sacrificing my dreams on publication as a fiction writer. No more.
ConvoScience will morph into a blog series.
I am a writer, but I also still have this keen interest in science. Back in 2016, when this whole venture started, I had said that I needed to write more blog posts about science. It was (and is) a part of who I am that I was completely ignoring. (I think that’s where Jessie got the idea for the science podcast.) So, to provide me with an avenue where I can continue to feed my thirst for the love of science, ConvoScience will be taking on a new slant. I will find a way to archive the podcasts, so others can experience them in the future, but instead of new podcasts, it will be new blog posts about science.
I will likely look at the different aspects of science that creep into my fictional writing, which means the topics can go anywhere.
The blogs will appear here, on my personal blog, just as they have always done, but they will be mirrored onto the ConvoScience website, that way fans can get just the science stuff if they want to. I still have to set up the subscription tools over there, but that will be a priority for the coming weeks, as well as a site redesign and episode archive. (Joy… Yet another site design project.)
This science geek is not disappearing. She’s just shifting her focus onto something that she can produce on a faster basis. I am a writer after all.
A Final Episode…
There will be one more episode of the Conversations in Science podcast, but I can’t tell you when that will air, because it hasn’t been recorded yet.
Jessie Sanders (my producer at KLRNRadio) has this idea to do a “flashback” episode, looking at all the fun times we’ve had over that past two years. That’s two years worth of recordings to go through to compile the snippets, and this will take her time. But trust me, when she’s ready, we’ll be recording that final episode of Conversations in Science and say goodbye in a proper style.
In the meantime, if you have any questions about science, any ideas about scientific areas that have confused you to no end, then drop me a line. I’ll be on the lookout for blog post ideas.
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© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2019
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