Why I Don’t Maintain a Social Media Platform

Every once in a while, my editor, bless his heart, reminds me of something. “You need a platform,” he says. “If people don’t know your book is out, they won’t buy it.”

(Should Writers Use Social Media?)

He does make a fair point and yet, I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Why is that?

Far from a luddite, I do love tech. Without email, a website, and creative software I wouldn’t be able to do what I do for a living. Some years ago I also had Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Goodreads, and Gmail accounts. Additionally, I struggled with depression, anxiety, and the inability to focus on the work at hand.

Then along came Cal Newport’s seminal TED talk, “Why You Should Quit Social Media” (look it up!), and I decided to give his recommendation a try, shutting down Facebook and Twitter overnight (LinkedIn, Goodreads, and Google would take me a little longer to ditch).

After the withdrawal symptoms had subsided—took around 10 days—I enrolled in a woodcut printmaking workshop. Coming from a digital arts background, this analog craft allowed me to rediscover myself as an artist and gain confidence in my own voice. Eventually, it would also lead to a residence program in Japan to study mokuhanga (traditional water-based wood block printing). Such a rewarding life experience meant that a year later I would finally return to college—at 40!

While getting my degree, I wrote not one but two Spanish-language nonfiction books, which in turn set me on course to becoming an English-language author and puzzle maker. Did I mention the sadness, anger, and beguilement had evaporated by then?

Unplugging from social networks paid great, real-life dividends for me, yet I continue to run into artists and writers who don’t get it. They tell me about the neat stuff they sell on Instagram, or the great video review their novel got from some teary-eyed TikTok mutant. They have fully embraced the notion that having a platform—that word again!—is the way forward. I just nod and move on.

Truly, not a simple dichotomy. What works for some does not necessarily work for everybody. Successful authors simply opt for paying a community manager to tackle their social accounts, while they keep pounding at the keyboard as always. Smart move, but are social networks their platform, or do they stand on the work they’ve sweated and bled for all their life?

Barely a midlister, to promote my titles I rely on a three-fold combo of good, old-fashioned word-of-mouth interviews or reviews at friendly blogs and magazines, and the occasional paid ad or press release if budget allows. Believe me, there are alternatives out there if you do some digging.

Let’s face it, almost all modern bestsellers have a celebrity name attached to it—looking at you, Prince Harry!—but celebrities that write (or hire a ghostwriter for the job) clearly stand on a platform of fame related to their achievements, be it in politics, sports, or entertainment . . . or else they were born into it—looking at you again, Prince Harry! Social media isn’t their platform but, like books themselves, simply another channel for self-promotion. Granted, these networks spawn their own breed of celebrity, the influencer, but the creature’s hard-sales prowess remains as fleeting as the internet user’s attention span.

So when, and why, did having a “social media presence” become synonymous with platform in publishing? And how long will our beloved industry keep chasing after, and pandering to the shady companies that peddle the honeytrap? I have no clue,* nor any inclination for fruitless arguments.

To me, it boils down to being fully engaged with my craft, alone, without a care in the world. This is how I get to proudly stand on my paper-made platform. It may not be the tallest, or the shiniest, but at least it’s mine, and it is real.

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* If his recent, game-changing WIRED magazine article, “The ‘Enshittification’ of TikTok,” is any indication, I’m sure Cory Doctorow has an idea.