No, we all thought that 2020 was a rough year for a lot of reasons. Then 2021 starts off with, “You thought that was bad? Hold my beer!”
Through all the Sturm und Drang of 2020, I managed to keep my mouth shut. The world doesn’t care what I think about Covid-19 (yes it’s real, no I don’t want to get it) or what I think about people who blindly believe fantasies and lies and for proof say, “75 million people agree with me.”
A recent blog post by an agent discussed the importance of a social media presence for a writer. It makes sense to me if I’m self-publishing or if I’ve found an agent and they’ve sold my book to a publisher, because I want potential readers to know about my novel. It doesn’t make much sense for me where I’m at right now.
I don’t have much activity on social media because it’s damned hard to make oneself understood in 140 characters. Even FaceBook is a poor platform to discuss ideas that are important yet nuanced. And social media is even more treacherous to use for those of us who are neurodivergent. It’s way too easy to open mouth and insert foot. In my opinion I have too much to lose and nothing to gain.
I lurk on FaceBook and Twitter and I watch famous people, and my fellow writers and friends (and some family) hang themselves with something they shared that arguably didn’t need to be shared. Something may be legal to do or say, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. When I point my finger to judge someone, there are three fingers pointing back at me… so I stay quiet and watch and take notes.
But I have opinions on just about everything. It’s too bad that conversations about religion and politics quickly devolve into shouting matches. I fondly remember when I was a college student, 40+ years ago, when we’d often talk all night, passionately, about whatever. Then I’d do my research and return the next night for round two, refreshed. The worst that would ever happen, back then, was that I’d learn to see the world a new way. Sometimes I’d help a friend see the world a new way. I miss that.