I can’t remember the first time I joined Twitter (I recall trying it out every now and then, and repeatedly closing out my account in fright). Finally, my friend K. said, “It would be great for you, in terms of getting your work out there,” and they were right, as it turns out. I gained entirely new audiences, and now have a worldwide set of readers who may be quieter than most sets of “followers” but who have remained steadily attentive for a long while. I’ve been on Facebook (FB) almost from the time it was opened up to the general public. My relationship to that site has changed dramatically since the early days, when I tried/hoped to use it primarily as a way to get more exposure to my work.
I’ve begun to cut down my Facebook list of contacts, going from 3,800 to about 1,600, and I’m still culling. I find that Facebook operates like a private living room: sometimes unwelcome and uninvited guests will barge in and proceed to crap on the carpet. Over time, I’ve deployed various strategies that would allow me to post publicly without letting “the public” in: no one is allowed to post on my wall, for instance, and while every post is public, only those on my list of contacts can comment.
FB used to be a great way to get the word out about events and work and it used to be a venue for conversations about topics and/or writing. These days, it’s an algorithmic mess and it’s hard to know how to keep up with people. I’m not likely to get rid of it any time soon: its greatest gift is that it has kept me close to very far away and cherished childhood friends spread out all over the world. I still post my work there, but I have no idea who sees it.
As for Twitter or X, whatever it’s called: who even knows? There is an understandable sense of panic among writers like me as well as smaller, independent publications because the site has long been a valuable way to get eyeballs to our work. Today, it seems to be quietly devolving, sure, but it’s still a bigger platform, and with broader reach than, say, Bluesky whose home page is…I mean, what is it, even? A glance shows a lot of sex-based accounts, and while that’s fine, it’s not what I’m interested in. The fact that it has no European reach is also a mark against it. And because it began as an invite-only site, it’s still suffused with a deliberate and conscious pomposity. It’s overdetermined by the presence of “big names” and even the not-names seem to be trying very hard to always say something Terribly Important and Meaningful in an effort to be on par with the Big Names (all of this is, admittedly, based on a few cursory glances: I find it too boring to stay on for too long).
Media and writers existed before Twitter, Facebook, and all the other social media platforms. It may well be true that the loss or attrition of these will affect those of us not connected to larger publications like the New York Times but I think it’s worth remembering that, well, not all of us actually need the reach of the Times (which, today, exists mostly by plagiarising the work of smaller newspapers and churning out “content” at such a rapid pace that it may as well be written by an AI generator).
Social media is great, for many reasons: I still think Twitter, with all its toxicity (about which I’ve written, here) is one of the funniest places online. And at a time when all the forces that be are determined to drive us towards death by denying that the pandemic still exists, it’s the one place where I can find reliable information which counters that narrative. I’m still fond of my FB friends, and use that site more as a social venue.
So many of our “crises” and “controversies” are entirely manufactured on and by social media. Writers in particular vastly, vastly overestimate the importance of FB, TikTok, Twitter, and Instagram in the real world. It may not be a problem if we have to use them much less often or differently (I keep telling people to stop obsessing about virality, but no one wants to listen to the 250-year-old crone in the corner). Those of us who, understandably, need social media platforms to get our work out there need to start thinking about alternatives. And perhaps it’s best if those alternatives are not just Twitter wanna-bes, but parts of the world that are not so dependent on the internet.
The alternative to hell should not be a different kind of hell.
See also:
“What Really Happened at Current Affairs?“
“Twitter Is Not Your Writing Life.”
“On Leaving Twitter, Or Not.”
This piece is not behind a paywall, but represents many hours of original research and writing. Please make sure to cite it, using my name and a link, should it be useful in your own work. I can, I have, and I will use legal resources if I find you’ve plagiarised my work in any way. And if you’d like to support me, please donate and/or subscribe, or get me something from my wish list. Thank you.