#NaNoWriMo 2021: The Industry's Toxic Water Cooler
Even if Twitter IS a raging garbage fire, can you really just walk away from it?
Fantasy writer Fonda Lee had a lot of bad experiences with Twitter, but didn’t think she could just walk away:
“I’m not a bestseller who can happily disappear from public life and ride on the swell of my publisher’s marketing support. I felt as if I ought to be online not only to promote my books but to stay connected to the writing and publishing community, and unfortunately Twitter remains the industry water cooler. As I published more books, it was also the easiest way for me to engage with my readership, something that truly does bring me joy on a regular basis.”
And then, recently, she decided she’d had enough.
“For the most part, we authors write for a receptive, open-minded audience, an audience that has paid money for our work and wants to trust us. Twitter is the opposite of that, a twisted looking-glass version of reality in which the readership beyond our immediate circle is poised with hostile scrutiny.”
If you are on Twitter, you have probably experienced this for yourself, unless perhaps you are a cisgendered white straight man, implicitly or openly Christian, because online trolls are usually too chickenshit to punch up—but even then, there are no guarantees. It could happen to you; it happened to Lee on a regular basis, and now she’s reevaluating what kind of presence, if any, she wants to have on Twitter moving forward.
As she notes, though, writers and other creative people can feel as though they’re caught in a trap, because Twitter (like other social media platforms) is increasingly seen as a necessary self-marketing tool if you have any expectations for ongoing success in the publishing world.
I don’t have a clear answer as to how you walk that tightrope. I can tell you what’s worked for me, which is to follow as few people as possible, and trust that they will only bring helpful or productive information into your timeline. I don’t stick my head in the sand; some of the people I want to hear from regularly are especially committed to discussing the inequalities and injustices non-privileged members of this society face, and I try to amplify their warnings to whatever extent I can, along with expressing my own concerns. So, Twitter isn’t quite a shiny happy online haven for me, but at least it doesn’t actively cause me pain.
(I should emphasize, though, that my lack of pain is made possible by an abundance of privilege, and I’m well aware not everyone has it as easy as me.)
I do think it’s important for writers to create a supportive framework for their writing practice, one that encompasses as much of our lives as possible. Twitter can be a part of that framework, when it’s a place you go to find inspiration from writers you admire, or to hear from people who’ve sincerely connected with you and your work. Less so when it’s a place where assholes line up to pour out their insecurities over your head. And if it’s not working out for you, you absolutely should walk away.
Maybe you can take the time you’d use to process other people’s shit on Twitter and fill it with more of your own writing. In the long run, having strong work to share will serve you much better when it comes to connecting with readers than any amount of time you spent hanging out on social media.