rec·i·proc·i·ty (n): a situation or relationship in which two people or groups agree to do something similar for each other, to allow each other to have the same rights, etc.
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This is one of my favorite words. It rolls off the tongue in a circular motion which coincides with its meaning. The definition also has importance in my life, as its something I wish to employ at times.
To be frank, I consider this WordPress account an invention of isolated creation. That is to say, I create stories that I like reading. I post them here for various reasons of taste (i.e. organization, documentation, affordability, etc.). The blog posts are a way of making sense of the world around me, and I do feel better at the end of the day if I can articulate my problems well. However, that is not to say I exclude an element of display. There is the idea of display in any blog, isn’t there? Some may say it’s the primary purpose.
This is very much in contrast to my business review account (private, not professional), in which that relationship is between me and the business. Any other reader is very much a distant third party, in my mind. Woe be it to the person who drags me in on their review. It’s never because I’ve written something they’ve liked; I can assure you that. In fact, a few weeks ago I had a delightful woman from Florida suggest I eat at home because all my reviews are terrible. Once I stopped laughing, I told her to get her nose out of my business.
It didn’t occur until recent that there might be a sort of tacit exchange going on here I wasn’t considering. People want to be a part of a community, albeit digital, and obtain that satisfaction through checking up with others from time to time. I suppose I realized this to some extent, but not necessarily with this lens.
With that in mind, I would suppose this post be less of a forced writing exercise so that I may not lose steam, and more a post to provide something here as a way of letting people know I’m having a bit of a fit. It includes the trashing of entire ideas and drafts, along with the distractions everyday life. I could certainly create something out of thin air and call it a story, but then again, I wouldn’t enjoy reading it. I want to enjoy my stories.
Corvidae in the Fields 
Reciprocity was the photographer’s enemy in the old analogue film days, at least “reciprocity failure” was the photographer’s enemy. It seems it may be society’s problem as well. We seem to have created a digital society that has bypassed reciprocity:)
That’s a rather pithy and chilling analogy, Roger.
hmmm, you’re posts almost always give me food for thought. Here I was cruising around, looking at photo’s, reading about food, fashion, costumes and how to get over a cold (I have a cold and I’m confined to bed) and I saw your new post. Reciprocity. A lovely word. I had to stop cruising and think. I’ve been thinking for 20 minutes, drinking tea and wondering if reciprocating is an easy out. If I scratch your back will you scratch mine? On one hand, I don’t expect people to automatically like me, even though I’m surprised when they don’t. I don’t do anything special to make people want to help me/like me/read me. I like reading you because you’re independent. Don’t cater. Don’t reciprocate in a false way. If it suits you, if it means something, that’s different. I like that. It’s honest. Don’t ‘like’ my post and not even read it. Don’t ‘follow’ me just for a ‘follow’. It’s not about reciprocity, writing here. It’s about getting it out of my head, trying to remember the past, digest it, find the Golden Fleece. Writing is about something, reciprocity is about something else. And I’m not sure I ‘like’ it.
Are you participating in NaMoNoWTF ever it’s called? I might. I need a kick in the ass. Haven’t worked on my book for almost, no, shit…over a year. I’ve been busy trying to live…ha.
Thank you for the compliment. Independence is one of the personality traits that’s hard to quit. My personality is quite studded, because I’ve weathered much of my life without the safety lines of the people around me. I work without a net most of the time, and it shows. I can typically rely on the immediate family for basics, but they’ve got their own problems. No sense complicating their lives with my troubles.
With that said, the problems of being a stranger in your own hometown makes interaction with everyone a bit of an odd experience. People who sought to ignore your whole life want to admonish you now with little invested at all. Just today, I had to repeatedly tell a “gentleman” on the review website I wasn’t interested on his take about my reviews. He ended his intrusion with “adios douchebag!” What’s funny is that I wasn’t profane or inflammatory, simply forthright. It seems some people can’t help but burn their tongue on my soup. I’m not sure where people get off thinking they can simply waltz into my life and do me a service by arguing with me?
I don’t stay here for the scenery or the weather, nor the “people” that reside here for that matter. If I didn’t have any living family around, I’d probably be on the road again. This area isn’t kind to those different to their own worldview.
I had to stop and wonder if reciprocity is merely quid pro quo, but I don’t believe it is. There’s a sense of being used in the latter of which I could never approve. I hate people who are out to use others for their own gain. With reciprocity everyone has a set of agreed upon ground rules not to abuse the situation. I’ve always kept a reasonably hospitable rapport with those who come to share their appreciation of my work. I’m not the warmest star in the universe, I understand.
You’ve had more pressing issues lately than writing a novel, I’m aware. I hadn’t considered participating in… in… (hold on, let me look it up) NaNoWriMo, which it’s easier for me to say National Novel Write Month. It’s an ambitious endeavor. Who knows? Maybe the spirit will move me on Saturday?
I try to visit as many people as I can every day, and I do it because I like the people. I wish I could support more blogs than I do, but then that would be all I would do.
In a different light, I’m not a misanthrope. I’m not one who can string relationships like popcorn garland either. It’s not something I’m proficient in, even though I think I do a decent job of showing my propers. That’s why I get jealous of those who have charisma. It’s like Jack Nicholson’s joker saying, “where does he get those wonderful toys?”
I often wonder how people cope with having several thousand followers, teeming with their own personal needs. It sounds like exhausting work in its own right. However, I do appreciate the time you take to stop by, Andra. You’ve done me right, and I like that.