I hope you had a glorious Thanksgiving! I am back from my social media sabbatical, not exactly rested but much, much more settled than when I left three weeks ago. I had a chance to think, to write, to read. I missed my friends and I missed hearing what people were up to, but I did not miss the algorithm.
Social media has evolved from its initial, noble purpose of connecting us into a continuous marketing machine, an algorithm-driven monster that forces anyone who wants to communicate with others to compete for eyeballs against AI that force-feeds what it thinks you want to see instead of what you really do. It’s been driving me to distraction, coming up with ways to work with the algorithms to make sure my content is seen by as many eyeballs as possible. I can’t beat the system, because the system has stopped being socially oriented in the way I like to engage with people. I’d like to change how I interact with social media, and I’m hoping you will help me do that. To whit: I’m moving my online life to my long-established business Fridays.
I used to have weekly blog on a fabulous group endeavor called Murderati. Every Friday, I would post an essay, and spend most of the morning engaging with the commenters. We gave up Murderati years ago when it became clear most of our readership had moved to Facebook — and that was okay, for a long time. Then they created professional pages, started charging us money to access the very people we’d been discoursing with — our friends, family, and fans alike — and if we didn’t pay, cut us out of people’s feeds. I’ve been very lucky to be able to afford a bit of advertising to stay relevant to the algorithm, but I wish we could find a better way.
Do I think the social media companies have lost the plot? Yes. Do I think I can compete against the HUGE advantage they have of immediate access to the folks who follow my feed? Nope. Not a chance. So why am I doing this?
First, my marketing/writing balance has gotten out of whack. Like many artists, I’m spending way too much time trying to devise ways to be rewarded by the algorithm. Not only that, being away these past few weeks helped me realize the new video-driven feeds make my brain feel like I’m staring at a strobe light. I couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly getting so anxious, why my blood pressure was going up. My feeds aren’t filled with controversy or anger; it’s most architecture and yoga, pretty art and photography, pics of friends’ babies, and lovely books. Nothing that should make me uncomfortable. So why was I so much more settled and calm away from the feeds?
I started thinking about the 5 minutes I spent on TikTok a few months ago and realized OH! Scrolling through flashing videos is like staring at a strobe light. At concerts, strobes make me super uncomfortable. That’s what the new style of feed feels like to my poor little brain. It distracts me, and it makes me anxious. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Social media evolution is in my control.
Going forward, here’s my plan. My business Fridays will include a small blog. There is no set format for this. I might share what I’m reading or what I’m watching, how it’s nourishing me as an artist. I might post cat pictures. I might talk about what I’m working on, about what I accomplished that week. Who knows?
On Fridays, I’m setting office hours. I will be here, with you. I will be present and engaged. I will answer comments on the blog, should anyone wish to engage here (I hope you do! Eventually, when the socials have died out, I will still be here for you.) I will be out on my social feeds commenting and talking and interacting with friends and readers. But I’m only going to do this one day a week like I used to do in the dinosaur age.
It took a wad of podcast listening (shoutout to Cal Newport, one of the best intellectual philosophers and digital ethics gurus we have today), Brad Stulberg (I’ve written many of these notes all over The Practice of Groundedness), my beautiful friend Andi, my husband-shaped sounding board, and a quiet resort on the Gulf of Mexico for helping me pull together all these thoughts. This feels right. And sometimes, as Andi has taught me, we have to do what feels right for us in our bodies and minds rather than what is expected of us.
I suppose this is my version of the Great Resignation in many ways. It’s my opportunity to put into practice all the thoughts and feelings that have been swelling inside of me during the pandemic. I’m a writer. I want to write you books, and talk about the writing of said books, instead of devising ways to hit it big through the perfect hashtag.
I invite anyone who wishes to join me in this contrarian endeavor (and boy, do I hope you decide to) to sound off in the comments. Fridays are a great time to talk books and writing. Let’s do this.
Friday Reads 📚
In addition to a quick pass through the three most recent books in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series preparing for the glorious experience of a NEW Jamie and Claire story, I just started reading Michael Pollan’s A PLACE OF MY OWN: The Architecture of a Daydream. It’s Michael’s story of building, by hand, a “room of his own” in his backyard, a place to pursue his writing dreams. Very cool.
