Gaming’s Killer App: Twitch?

it’s the non-gaming aspects of the Xbox One that I find most intriguing because I don’t believe “next gen” will ultimately be defined by graphics, and the first real example of that is Twitch. Per Google research, “Gamers are an important driver of brand engagement, as they create, curate, and share content.” And that’s where Twitch comes in and things get really interesting.

Xbox One: First Impressions

When it comes to technology, I’m generally an early tester, late adopter, especially when it comes to gaming. We got a Wii about 1.5 years after it had launched, and didn’t buy an Xbox 360 until last December, but something about the Xbox One grabbed my attention from the moment it was announced. More importantly, though, it grabbed my non-gaming wife’s attention, who then shocked me by pre-ordering it from Amazon the first day they opened pre-orders!

TIMESUCK? You’re. Doing. It. Wrong.

There are myriad ways to connect with readers nowadays, both directly and indirectly, but you can’t do it all, nor should you try. Whether you’re a novelist or journalist, poet or pundit, striking the right balance is critical to implementing and sustaining an effective marketing strategy. From websites to social media to live events, this presentation focuses on the value of owned channels, offline/analog engagement, and how to make sure you’re not wasting your time.

Mozer, Bethea and Me (for Veteran’s Day)

The original version of the poem, written back in 2003, was entitled Mozer, Bethea and I (as published in Handmade Memories), and it had a ranty, overly political ending that tried to be a little too clever and felt like a different poem from the opening, I tightened it all up, including a bit more nuance in Mozer’s section, while heavily revising the closing to end up with what I think is a far stronger, more personal, more relatable work. Veteran’s Day isn’t a time for generic sentiments, positive or negative, but a time for personal reflection. I’m generally ambivalent about my time in the military because I met far too many people who defied easy stereotypes of what it means to be pro- or anti-war, and I’ve always had nothing but respect for anyone who has served, not to mention a fair bit of curiosity about why they did so.

Let Poetry Be

I’ve always been fascinated (and frustrated) by poetry’s “delicate snowflake” status, and how such a diverse variety of forms, styles, and voices often gets lumped into such a generic, cavernous category, like literary fiction and graphic novels. One of the things I’ve always loved about good anthologies and open mics is the inherent (or the potential for) diversity in those formats, something that’s not clearly communicated on bookstore shelves nor the Dewey Decimal system.

Yahoo Bets Big on GIFs, Porn, and Fickle Teens…

When Google acquired Blogger in 2003, it was a smart move that tied directly to their core ad business, with the visionary bonus of foreseeing the value of user-generated content when it was still scoffed at. Yahoo acquiring Tumblr 10 years later (after badly fumbling GeoCities, del.icio.us, and Flickr, among others) is like the drunk uncle showing up late to a baby shower with a stripper and a trained monkey. Even the “announcement” via GIF feels forced and desperate.

The REAL Tools of Change? People

Yesterday’s announcement that O’Reilly is retiring TOC came as a bit of a surprise at first, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Its focus on tools was a strength in the early days of the digital transition, but as the new shiny wore off, self-proclaimed “disruptors” faded away quietly, and viable business models came to light, it became clear that the tools of change that counted most were the people in the trenches, not the provocative pundits with plenty of ideas and little or no skin in the game.

Story Chairs, Pocket Poems, and the Fickle Flame of Inspiration

Perhaps it’s just the drama this week offered — from the tragic and inspiring events in Boston, to some big things starting to shake loose at the day job — combining with the unexpected introduction to some good poems, but I’m getting that feeling again, a tentative spark that danced unusually bright in my brain throughout my run this morning. It wasn’t a full-fledged poem, just the beginnings of one, words and ideas tap-dancing to a vaguely familiar rhythm, a lucid dream that lasted for a couple of miles before threatening to fade if I didn’t write them down. So I did, cheating my cooldown and stretching to get to the computer as fast as I could.