This morning I was engaged in a particularly spirited intriguing Twitter connection – a highlight being introducing two fellow authors to each other.
I wondered afterwards why I am on Twitter and why people think I am. Pretty much everyone I know who tweets regularly is selling something. They are not explicit sellers, they’re implicit sellers. They have wonderful websites that engage, expatiate, offer, market… in a word: they sell.
When I started on Twitter it was mostly because my agent was about to submit my latest manuscript to major publishers. This was the novel that was going to turn my fortune around – the one that would sell fast and well – the one that would put me back in the running of rich and famous published authors (ha ha). I had two more novels in the desk drawer, and planned to have at least one book published a year for the next twelve years. I anticipated that by the time this novel was published I’d have thousands of followers, I would have met thousands of reviewers, made connections for book jacket blurbs, met new editors, encountered bloggers who would blog about my book. I would be prepared.
Well, that hasn’t happened – not in the way I thought it would. My latest novel hasn’t sold (yet); Twitter, however, has become a haven of friendships. I’ve learned more about things I never thought I’d be interested in. I’ve connected with people who have shored up my spirits when I’ve felt low, laughed with me, encouraged, shared interesting thoughts, philosophized, chuckled, and critiqued. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a group of friends.
I feel almost guilty that I don’t really have something to sell them in return for their friendship. But somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. On Twitter you’re accepted for who you are. I’m still trying to figure that out… it seems so mysterious.
It’s pretty strange, Twitter. I’ve met some of the most supportive writers I know there. And then there are the multitudes who want to help me make money at home…
Between Twitter and the blogosphere, my free moments seem to be eaten with alarming rapidity, but the community certainly does make me smile more often than not. And that’s enough for me.
This is funny… and exactly my plan. I researched Twitter and all its resources and figured this would be a way to connect. And, without realizing, I became addicted to Twitter.
Like you I have several books & scripts written. They sit alone in a drawer (on floppy disks) or on paper in boxes in a closet. And, like you, I figured to find an agent & or publisher and just submit them year after year while all the while working on new material. Ha Ha.
The sad part is I can’t stop writing whether published on not. I’m obsessed with what is hidden in my head.
Much luck to you and I’ll read you on Twitter.
We all search for acceptance at the end of the day, acceptance by our mother/father/spouse/boss/children and finally most everyone that breaths. We want to be understood, and understand.
True that there are more than a few people selling things on twitter. Get rich quick schemes, books, blogs, ads… hell pick something and it’s being sold. What i like is that when I strip out the pitch (mine included) and really chat with those 10/20/50 people I have connected with I get what we all look for: Acceptance.
I am beginning to believe that social sites like twitter and facebook, et al are there only so we can share our experiences, our thoughts, aspirations, and dreams. As a creature I think we all want to know what everyone else experiences so we can value our own experience against something else. How else can we determine if what we experienced is sane or not.
Just my thoughts.
Wishing you Well
Robert E
Thank you, Simon, Verna, and Robert for these wise and friendly comments, and for reading… So glad to know you all – so for that it is all worth it. W