Bookmark Now

I've read three of the essays in the new collection (edited by Kevin Smokler), Bookmark Now, and by all indications this is a fun, interesting read.

Glen David Gold (author of Carter Beats the Devil) has a particuarly entertaining piece about his experiences Googling himself. He links it to writers' urge to find people who enjoy their work which, Gold understands, can be overpowering:

To find a reader engaged in your work is incredible rare, up ther with finding a unicorn laying his head in a virgin's lap.

Googling yourself seems to be the perfect tool for this because you can find out what people have said about you without all the societal tension of actually speaking to said people face to face. Of course, Gold also recognizes that it's not exactly good to become a compulsive self-Googler.

Unlike masturbation, which has a geniune end point and--when done adequately--some satisfaction, self-googling just goes until it stops.

I think this is exactly the problem. When you Google yourself (or Technorati yourself)--and I have, boy have I--you always have the feeling that you're going to discover something cool. It's really a case of "just one more" where you just know the next click is going to reveal that great piece of information that will finally end your compulsion to self-Google.

Of course, this isn't the case. True narcissism requires boundlessness and that's exactly what self-Googling is: narcissistic and boundless.

I guess that's all to Gold's point, that writers are just dying for people to love their work and that even the best, most celebrated writer will still be insecure about rejection (unless if you're Norman Mailer). Writing requires a certain degree of narcissim, and the ability to Google yourself brings that to the fore.

So I'm kind of glad I read Gold's piece because it had been a while since I Googled himself and his essay reminded me of everything I had been missing out on. Sure, I was glad to have (momentarily) kicked the Google habit, but my writerly productivity was probably suffering from the lack of self-infatuation.