Just for your future reference, Tash, it is not a good idea to decide to upgrade your Wordpress installation at 10 o’clock at night.  At that stage of the evening, you’re already tired and you can too easily get distracted by catch-up episodes of The Sarah Jane Chronicles, starring David Tennant.  And if you’re tired – even if you’ve done the same Wordpress upgrade before – you can easily stuff things up.

You might overwrite key files, for example, and then when you go to your admin screen to log on, you might get a blank white page – and when you go to your homepage, the same thing.  Trying to stay calm, you might then try to do a fresh install, knowing that you’ve exported all your blog entries to an .xml file earlier in the evening, only to find that the .xml file only contains the first and most recent entry.

By this time it’d be after midnight and you’d be coming to the realisation that you’d deleted your entire blog.  And while it didn’t contain the best literature ever, it did have a couple of entries on the excitement of first-time publication, which you would’ve preferred not to lose.  So you’ll find yourself searching the Way Back Machine for an archived copy of your entries which you can then bring into your ‘new’ blog.  And you’ll keep bringing in entries, one at a time, till about 1.30am, and then you’ll get up at 6.00am to finish the job (finish republishing those blog entries at least, though you’ll still need to deal with the sidebar, theme, plugins and comments).

Which means  by 11.30pm the next day, having just returned from Boffoonery, a comedy benefit for Bletchley Park aimed at the kind of people who work all day with computers and then enjoy going out in the evenings to hear jokes about code (so like you and your husband and your friends), you’ll be totally exhausted and reduced to amusing yourself by writing notes in the second person.

Social media and new technology are changing the way we recruit and manage volunteers. They’re also changing how we define the concept of volunteering. New forms of participation such as micro-volunteering, and web-generated events such as Twestival, are changing the way people are coming together to raise funds, donate their time and make a difference in their local and global community.

Our next #4change chat, on Thursday 12 November, will look at how the volunteering landscape is changing. Join us for a global conversation, sharing ideas, best practice, links and resources.

How to join the chat

1. If you want to contribute to the conversation, you’ll need to have a Twitter account (it’s free).
2. To follow the conversation (whether you are planning to contribute or not), use http://search.twitter.com/ or another application to search on Twitter for “#4Change”
3. Jump in to the conversation by adding “#4Change” (without the “”) to your Twitter message
4. Feeling brave? Check out TweetChat – it’s a great application that integrates with your Twitter account and makes chats more fun! You can turn it off after the chat.

Rules for #4Change chat

1. #4Change will be structured around a series of questions which all participants can respond to. Send your questions to @tashjudd or post them below to have them considered.
2. Introduce yourself in 1 tweet at the start or when you join.
3. Stay on topic!
4. Be cool.

A few links

How social media’s changing volunteering

Blog: Brave New World for Volunteering
Blog: Sacrifice, optional and about other people (defining volunteering)
Blog: The Extraordinaries: Will micro-volunteering work?
Article: NetSquared and the new wave of online volunteering

Recruiting volunteers online

Volunteer Match
Do-it
All for Good

A few interesting volunteering and participation initiatives

The Extraordinaries
Virtual volunteering
Junction49
Urbantastic
Twestival

Please comment on the original #4change blog post with other interesting links, case studies and questions you’d like to see raised during the chat. Looking forward to seeing you all online on the 12th.

I’ve never really thought writing was much about environment. While I wouldn’t say no to a writer’s garret in a castle or a villa in the South of France, I always maintained that all I really need to get my writing done is a laptop and a deadline.

This was all well and good when I had a deadline: when I had a manuscript to finish before the end of my MA, when I had edits to finish before moving overseas. But, in the three years since I moved to London, I haven’t had that sense of urgency. And as such, novel number two remained largely untouched, month after month, six months after six months, a year then another.

My friend Caitlin had been to an Arvon Foundation course in the past and recommended it. She’d even been inspired to set up a writing group with other course participants on her return, and invited me to join in.

So, this year, as a birthday present to myself, I booked onto a course entitled ‘Work in Progress’. It was going to be held at Totleigh Barton in Devon from October 26 – 31. This was at the end of January. By the 25th of October I’d written perhaps another chapter or two, but the word count remained at around 25,000 and I didn’t know how the novel was going to end.

One week later, I’ve survived train cancellations, giant cows, two nausea-inducing taxi rides and the trauma of reading unfinished work in public. I’ve learned to poach salmon, I’ve got my hiking boots dirty, found the small village Sheepwash. And most importantly, I’ve finished the first draft of my novel.

And some of that has to be down to the environment you find at Totleigh Barton – a pre-Domesday manor house, at the end of a long driveway and miles from anywhere.

There are a lot of places to write at Totleigh Barton: long wooden tables, window seats, libraries and lounges, a shed in the garden, a barn with its own bats, the desk in my room. Despite the fact that my work-in-progress is set in the city and online, being in the country without an internet connection provided the hours and quiet to get the words flowing.

There was also such a productive atmosphere at Totleigh: from the workshops in the morning with Paul Magrs and Stella Duffy which made me re-examine my characters and the choices I make when writing, to the long afternoons when I’d find a spot to write and know that all around the house, the other course participants were writing or cooking or attending individual tutorials as well. When you’re struggling to finish a difficult scene, there’s something immensely comforting – and also motivating – in hearing someone else typing away at the other side of the lounge, working on their own literary endeavours.

There’s also something comforting about a well-stocked kitchen, endless cups of tea and wine in the evenings, the opportunities to talk about writing as if it wasn’t a strange thing to do – but something that is part of a life, something which could even be enjoyed.

Tonight I’m back in London. There’s football on the radio and cars on the street outside. I’m putting words in a box which will become a blog entry. I still love the web, but I’m going to miss Totleigh Barton.

I’m going to have to create a writing environment here.