About a year ago, a few of my readers kindly helped me figure out what Twitter was, get online and start going to town. Now I’m perpetually being monitored by around 10,000 of what Twitter innocuously terms ‘followers’, as opposed to ‘stalkers’, and I’m able to share with the whole world, in almost real time, things like ‘I’m wearing shoes today’ (which I am) and ‘my toaster is unplugged’ (which, in point of fact, it isn’t). And through it all I discovered that I quite like Twitter. Despite my initial concerns, it turns out that 140 characters is just about exactly the length conversation I enjoy having with with most people.

And then along came Goodreads. Bowing to the tremendous social pressure to do so (you online ‘friends’ can be a bunch of bullies), I finally signed onto the massive website for bookish people, configured my account, went through my usual routine of making up fictional email addresses so that the thousands of notifications social media sites like to generate would never get to me (if you’re actually the owner of flippingpropellordolphins@gmail.com or goshiwantmoreemail@hotmail.com, I do apologise), and moments later, voila! I realised I had no idea what Goodreads was for.

And so it remained for several months. I looked at books. I said I was reading books. I said I was 72% through reading my current book. I linked these things to Twitter, so my ‘twerps’ could know, with absolute certainty, that I was 72% through my current book. I finished books, and marked them read, and put them on shelves.

And still didn’t know what it was really all for.

Then one day, in frustration, I tweeted that I didn’t quite understand the point of Goodreads. Many of my followers responded with notes like, ‘I do! haha!’ or ‘I think it’s nice’ or ‘I’m wearing two different coloured socks’, but there was one reply that really got to me. It read simply as follows:

‘Don’t be daft. There are people there. Get to know the people.’

That this message was followed with a second note by the same person, concluding his thought with a Rainn Wilson-esque ‘Idiot’ (@RainnWilson), didn’t diminish his point. So back to Goodreads I went.

And I discovered something.

It is filled with people. It’s not merely a place filled with books, but with people who love books -- readers who actually care about reading, about writers, about the whole wonderful world of literature of every sort and type.

And they’re lovely.

I started by dropping a random little note into the messages folder of readers who indicated they were reading my books, which prompted some startled replies as well as a few accusations of my not really being me. But mostly it prompted some wonderful conversations, and it’s become a little habit of mine ever since.

The whole Goodreads world seemed to open up. It’s a wonderful environment where I am able to meet my readers, meet some of my favourite authors, and not just discover new worlds in new books, but share them with others.

What a delight.

So thank you to my Twitter follower who wouldn’t let me slide. I owe you a great deal, and I’ve become a devoted Goodreads activist since. And I say, with all the love in my heart: you’re an idiot, too. Of the highest and most enjoyable calibre.