I saw these tweets on Monday morning around 9am.
I'd logged on to Twitter to see if anything was trending that would preclude a tweet about the blog's topic that day.
(The last thing you want to do is merrily tweet out "Come read about comps!!" when there's a national tragedy unfolding)
My first reaction to this tweet was annoyance of course.
That's my default reaction to people asking me to do stuff.
But what moved this from annoyance (and maybe actually getting answered on the blog) was the second one: A link or two will do.
At that point I want to snap back "I am not the reference librarian at your local library. She is a salaried professional whose job involves answering questions. I am not."
|These are librarians|
|this is a shark|
I realize my annoyance is out of proportion to the question, and that's entirely because I am prickly and grouchy.
There is a larger point to be made though. This person didn't intend to annoy me at all. I'm sure s/he is perfectly nice and just wants some help navigating the shoals of this industry.
I DO spend a good deal of time helping such people, and answering questions.
So, why did this ruffle my finny feathers so much?
It's clear that the questioner hadn't even tried to find the answer on her own.
I understand the befuddlement of conflicting answers, boy do I.
And some questions don't lend themselves to a search engine (example: how do I handle competing offers; how long to wait before nudging)
But this question is clearly search engine material.
This writer could have saved the day with one more tweet, one akin to these:
1. I've googled and can't find the answer
2. I've found conflicting answers
In other words: showing me that I wasn't her first stop on the Answer Quest.
Asking for clarification on things I've written here on the blog, or asking questions about things I've posted here: no problem.
General publishing questions: also no problem IF you've at least tried to find the answer before asking me.