But, before long, like every other user (all 400+ million), I got sucked in. Facebook became a part of my daily—even hourly—routine. It was like a new, healthy addiction, and gradually I began sharing my own status updates.
As someone who's never been particularly adept at anything technical (I'm not a member of MySpace, Friendster or any of the others, and to this day, my tweeting is kept to a minimum), I soon began to contemplate the cultural impact of social networking, specifically Facebook. It occurred to me that there had to be some amazing stories evolving from this vast web of viral connectivity. Sure enough, I was right. And thus the concept for my new book, Facebook Fairytales: Modern-Day Miracles to Inspire the Human Spirit was born.
Facebook Fairytales is filled with captivating narratives of 25 real-life stories culled from interviews with Facebook users who've used the site's many applications to find—for example—an organ donor or biological parents, to relay messages to loved ones during the Mumbai terrorist attacks and to save a teenager's life across an ocean. The overriding theme of these stories, I believe, is that the generosity and resilience of the human spirit is truly powerful in cyberspace.
But why? Why are people inherently kinder, more magnanimous, more inclined to help others on Facebook than they are in everyday life? What makes Facebook stand out above the other social networking sites (it's crushing them all, by the way)? Why is it that every time I pick up a newspaper, flip through the channels on TV or surf online, all I hear is "Facebook this" and "Facebook that"? These were questions I continually asked myself throughout the process of writing the book. They were also questions I asked Facebook CEO and founder Mark Zuckerberg when I interviewed him for the foreword.
Mark's answer: "Because everything is so real." He pointed out that there are various social networking sites where people share information, but none of them is as authentic as Facebook. "That makes it human," he insisted.