And at times, as events took over, I’d spend weeks manically grabbing every tiny scrap of a developing story in order to fuse them into a narrative in real time.I was in an unending dialogue with readers who were caviling, praising, booing, correcting.
Twitter emerged as a form of instant blogging of microthoughts.
I duly surrendered my little device, only to feel a sudden pang of panic on my way back to my seat. A year before, like many addicts, I had sensed a personal crash coming.
If it hadn’t been for everyone staring at me, I might have turned around immediately and asked for it back. For a decade and a half, I’d been a web obsessive, publishing blog posts multiple times a day, seven days a week, and ultimately corralling a team that curated the web every 20 minutes during peak hours.
My brain had never been so occupied so insistently by so many different subjects and in so public a way for so long.
I was, in other words, a very early adopter of what we might now call living-in-the-web.Users were as addicted to the feedback as I had long been — and even more prolific.