We were genuinely sorry to hear the news that our friendly competitor Twitterfeed would be shutting down on Halloween; in fact, we even wrote them a nice little piece called Requiem for Twitterfeed: why a startup competitor’s loss is a time for grief, and not celebration. Give it a read, we think you’ll like it.
We know that the ability to easily manage and schedule RSS content from blogs — yours as well as others’ — is an incredibly important function in your daily lives and careers, and that it’s a tremendous amount of work to set up. So we can imagine the frustration this transition period must be for you, and we want to make it as painless as possible.
So what follows is a simple 3-step walk-through of getting started with Twibble and adding your first feed. If you want a more detailed 10-step primer with an accompanying video, please click here.
But first, a few quick highlights about Twibble:
Twitter is a peculiar thing. With some 300 million active users around the globe, there seems to be not a single media company, news program, or celebrity on the planet without a Twitter account. And yet news of the company’s demise, imminent (failed) acquisition(s), and utter uselessness seem to permeate the internet, ironically, mostly throughout the Twitterverse. Go figure.
But Twitter isn’t going anywhere. Or at least, it better not. Indeed, I’ve been a vocal proponent of just how useful Twitter is; how it really hasn’t any viable substitute; and how for millions of people around the world, it isn’t just a nice thing to have, it’s a legitimate necessity just to stay alive. To wit, Twitter matters more today than when it first hatched 10 years ago, and it must not be allowed to fail. It’s simply too important.
We launched Twibble the 24th of April, 2014. As many of you know, Twibble was an accident, born from the crumbling ashes of our previous startup, Venturocket, for which we’d raised $700K. So we know a thing or two about failure. Like, for instance, that it hurts. Painfully. It’s a tear-wrenchingly, nose-bleedingly, agonizing experience that I’d wish on no one.
Not even a direct competitor.