The Hulk Is On Twitter

Having been a professional author for three or so years now, people occasionally ask me for advice on the profession.  Amongst these are questions I cannot answer to anyone’s satisfaction, such as how one gets published (you write a good book), how one writes a good book (you just do) or how one goes about finding an agent (no clue, mine came to me).

But one question that I am always happy to answer is the question of social media and how to navigate it as an author.

And to that, my answer has always been the same, summarized in one simple rule.

If it’s not fun, don’t do it.

Now, there are reasons to do this beyond just simple hedonism.  Social media being as important as it is, there are plenty of reasons to do it even if you don’t find it fun.  But I have found that the main reason to adhere to that one simple rule is also summarized in one singular statement and that is that emotions have a way of seeping through.

If you are not having fun on social media, then it becomes obvious.  Maybe not at first, but eventually, the cracks will begin to show.  You’ll start getting short and curt with people in your twitter replies.  You’ll start finding yourself loathing the sight of familiar names that pop up in your feed and be unable to keep them out.  You’ll start getting tired of it, then you’ll start getting angry, then you’ll start getting depressed.  Then you’ll eventually snap, melt down in front of everyone on your blog or another blog and, since nothing is ever lost on the internet, your disgrace will be commemorated in a jaunty tune, sung throughout the ages in the great halls of chatrooms and blogospheres.

Most authors, editors, bloggers, readers, writers, monks, pharaohs, suicide girls, barnyard animals and dirigible pilots will all offer you the same advice toward this: “Don’t respond.  Don’t get involved.  Don’t confront.  Don’t reproach.  You’ll never come out looking well.”

And I think, by and large, that this is very good advice.  And yet…there’s something awry with that sentiment that I’d like to talk about today.

The main reason to use social media is to interact with fans.  And that’s a huge draw.  I’ve had dozens, if not hundreds of people say how awesome it is to be able to ask your favorite author something and see them respond to you personally.  And likewise, I’ve had immense fun with it, not just because people occasionally call me their favorite author.  I’ve loved getting fan opinions, getting into debates with readers, talking about stuff that I’m really interested in and having a huge pool of people that I can inquire further into at a moment’s notice.  It’s a great social tool.

And with this, inevitably, comes the stresses of a social situation.  You occasionally find people who will be rude to you, intentionally or otherwise.  You’ll find people who will leap in and, in an attempt to be clever or mean, confirm that your self-deprecating joke about your forgetfulness is not actually a joke and they do, in fact, think you are an imbecile.  You’ll find people who will make some truly bizarre commentary on your appearance like it’s no big deal.

I’ve got a picture of a screaming monkey as my twitter avatar.  I wholly intend to change this to a picture of myself at some point.  And I can already see in my head the people who will say “lol can’t tell the difference” and I can already see myself getting angry and sad.  As a guy who thought he was wildly hideous for most of his life, I’m still not great at taking jokes about my appearance.

And I can already hear people telling me not to respond to that.  But surely, you can see my dilemma here?  Do respond to the positive, don’t respond to the negative, do treat everyone like they matter, don’t treat some people like they do, do assume the best of people, don’t think that they’re going to be nice.  Social situations are already hard to read, even moreso online, and it’s hard to tell someone’s intentions online.  What about the people who seem to be mean, but think they’re being clever or good-naturedly jabbing you?  What about the people who namedrop you in twitter in their criticisms of you and get mad when you don’t respond?  Who do you pay attention to and who do you don’t?

I’m coming to question the wisdom of the idea of “don’t respond, ever.”  I think there’s a lot of virtue in “don’t respond,” but I think there are times when the “ever” is just too much.

I get weird comments on my twitter and facebook a lot (I get it, I have a weird sense of humor, people want in on it), and for the most part I’ve been content to ignore it.  But I noticed that, without an external outlet, I internalized a lot of the stress of having someone make a smart-ass remark about my appearance, or a “joke” about my obliviousness to something, or a gross theory on my personal life.

Remember what I said about emotions seeping through?

I was getting curt.  I was getting short.  I was getting downright angry.  This is not great for me.  When I call myself the angriest man in the world, I’m only half-joking.  As a soft-spoken fat kid who liked to read, I was picked on a lot in school.  To fight back, I became mean.  I became incredibly mean.  To the point that old classmates I meet will still confess times I made them cry in the bathroom.

I don’t want to be that person again.  I needed to do something.

So, over the course of a week, I confronted three different commentaries.  I told them that they were unhelpful, impolite or hurtful.  I did not call them names, I did not cast aspersions on them as people.  I pointed out that I had a problem with what they said.

It felt really good.

And I realized that I needed that.  I needed to be able to tell people that, while I might like them, I don’t like what they said (and the difference is crucial).  And I realized that most people were trying to be clever, or good-natured, or just didn’t realize it and they were apologetic.  I think it was wiser for me to call them out now than internalize my distaste for their commentary until it became synonymous with them.  It felt good to do that.

And so, I’m advising authors to consider that.  Consider that your feelings are not irrelevant.  Consider that it’s okay to call people out for what they said and still being able to like them as people.  Consider the fact that this is stressful and you need to protect yourself or you will meltdown.

And consider the fact that not everyone is going to be apologetic.  This is the internet; whoever is meanest is still the strongest and there’s no way to make people apologize.  Some people will say “you just lost a reader.”  And really, that’s the implicit threat in the “don’t respond” advice, isn’t it?  Don’t get a reputation as a guy who calls people out all the time, don’t be aggressive or belligerent or you might lose readers.

I am telling you, right now, that your readership is never going to be so small that you need to accept people trying to make you miserable out of fear of losing their patronage.

Nor am I advising that you be on-guard all the time.  Don’t look at readers as foes or people who will hurt you.  That’s a mistake.  Readers are wonderful people.  They love your work and, by proxy, they love you.  The vast majority of them do not want to offend, intimidate or irritate you.  The vast majority of them want to be on good terms with you and you should want to be on good terms with them.  Be patient, be polite and never, ever call them out as people you dislike.

Social media is important as a writer.  It’s too important to let yourself not have fun with it.

So take the time to consider it.