The Ugly Face Of Facebook

Social networking is a necessary evil. As writers, it's one of the best ways to help promote our work. It's also one of the worst ways to promote our work. Lately I've become rather bored with Facebook. I enjoy using Twitter so much more. With Twitter there's a simplicity that is almost unexplainable. Basically, you write what you want to write in 140 characters. You follow who you want to follow. That's about it.

But Facebook? Where oh where to begin? First you send a friend request, or you accept someone's friend request, and then if they are new to Facebook, the system wants you to suggest friends to them. Of course, you don't have to suggest friends to them at all. But if they're new to Facebook, the system will occasionally try to get you to help them find more friends, or want you to write on their wall, or whatever. And then there are the groups and fan pages (I'm sorry, the like pages), and events and games and a whole bunch more bullshit. People posting links to articles and videos, people posting status updates like "is currently writing" and then fifty people "like" that status for some strange reason because, I guess, "liking" a status is confirmation of some kind of excellence in status writing. Then you have the people -- and the people in question here are writers, because that's who I'm mostly "friends" with -- who then say they need to start a fan page for themselves, because they've almost reached their limit of 5,000 friends, so they're going to be posting their writing news over on their fan page so everyone should become a fan (or like) if they want to be kept abreast of the latest news. (I don't know if anyone has actually ever said "abreast" though I think they should use it more.) But the thing is? Almost none of these writers who have almost reached their limit of friends are actually getting friend requests from people (either readers or fans, and yes, there is a difference between the two). Instead they're sending out friend requests, hundreds and hundreds of friend requests, because not only is having your status "liked" a confirmation of some kind of excellence, but apparently so it the number of "friends" you have. Oh, and let's not get into how your live stream is clogged with updates on who has changed their profile picture or who has decided to like such-and-such a page or who has become friends with who.

I've bitched about Facebook before and I'll probably bitch about it again, but my basic issue is that the place has become a black hole. You can't escape it, not if you're a writer or some kind of artist. Because, again, it's a necessary evil. But I'm starting to loath it. I used to post both on Facebook and Twitter, but that became rather redundant and time consuming so I made it so all my tweets from Twitter went directly to Facebook. But a few weeks back I stopped doing that. Why? I'm not quite sure. Maybe because I don't want to contribute to the information overload happening on Facebook. At least on Twitter, people who want to follow me can follow me and can stop following me whenever they want. But on Facebook? There are a lot more options. If they don't want to see my updates, they can either a) hide my updates from the stream or b) unfriend me. And oftentimes, people don't even know how to hide updates, and they don't want to unfriend me, because if they're a writer too and it comes to my attention that they unfriended me, then maybe there will be hard feelings and blah blah blah. Yes, Facebook has become much too political, which is completely and utterly ridiculous.

Recently I considered not quitting Facebook but at least unfriending all my "friends" who aren't friends. Making it a true personal account, for just close family and friends. But then that would lead into problems that David Pogue most recently described in the New York Times and which summarizes the problem quite well:

As a tech columnist, I’m bombarded by friend requests — mostly perfect strangers — which puts me in an awkward bind. Do I accept them all, just to show I’m a good sport, thereby defeating the purpose of Facebook as a network of real friends? Or do I turn them down, hurting their feelings and making them think I’m an unfriendly jerk?

As writers, we're often forced to walk on eggshells. We don't want to do or say anything that might lose us potential readers and, consequently, potential sales. Because if we piss off one writer/reader/person, that writer/reader/person is most apt to tell one of their friends, who is most likely a writer/reader/person, and then that could create a domino effect.

So for now I'm sticking with Facebook, like I even have a choice. Awhile back Neil Gaiman said that the best way to use social networks is not to simply promote but to connect, so that's why on Facebook I won't just post updates when I have a story published or something to sell. I'll occasionally post something, just to be part of the ongoing conversation. Because it's like you're at a party, and there you are, standing in the corner. If you only speak when you have something to sell, people will ignore you. But if you speak to say this and that, something that has some connection with others, then when you do have something to sell, people will listen. Hopefully.

Viral Before There Was Viral

A first novel, a coming-of-age story set in the South. The author is utterly unknown, has no academic or media affiliations, no Web site, no blog, no Facebook page, no Twitter account. She is shy. What's a publisher and a publicist to do?

In this case, the publisher is J.B. Lippincott. There's no record of the publicist. The novel is To Kill a Mockingbird. The author: Harper Lee. And 50 years ago the answer was: not much.

Granted, the technology for Lee to "go viral" didn't exist, but it happened anyway. It was called "the grapevine," as in, "heard it through the."

As the rest of the Mary Murphy article goes to show, word of mouth is more powerful than any book tour or appearance on Oprah. At least, that was the case 50 years ago. But what about now? Occasionally, yes, a book will climb the bestseller list by simply word of mouth, and it's only then that the publisher starts to give it a big publicity push. Some books get a huge publicity push from the start and nothing ever really happens. Still, it's nice to think about a time when the Internet didn't exist, when people didn't friend you on Facebook just so they could then invite you to join their fan page. A time when a book was the only thing that mattered.

The Conspiracy Is Afoot

My Fellow Internet Blogging People: The most annoying thing about the Internet is once someone does something -- like, say, a list -- then everyone else has to bitch and moan and make up their own something -- like, say again, a list -- too.

Of course, there was the New Yorker's list, followed up yesterday by Dzanc's list (and let's not mention the pure marketing genius of announcing their huge sale right around the time this list came out), and I noticed something very alarming in both of the lists, something that is almost too shocking to even share but which I feel I must because for lists such as these to exist and gain respectability and, perhaps, legend, they must be well thought out and diverse and yadda yadda yadda, and the most disturbing thing I found from both lists is that -- ready for this? -- there are no Roberts included anywhere.

Yes, yes, it's true. See for yourself. Check the New Yorker's list again, and then Dzanc's list. No Roberts at all. But that, you may think, is not a big deal. Robert isn't a very common name. To which I say, all right, then how do you explain this extra layer? There are no first names that start with R! None at all! Don't you see? The New Yorker and Dzanc aren't just trying to box Roberts out of the glory of being on lists, but also anyone whose first names start with R! Obviously, they didn't want to tip everyone off to this massively global conspiracy just yet, which is why the New Yorker included Karen Russell, because at least her last name starts with R.

Isn't it clear now? Isn't it obvious? The New Yorker and Dzanc and everyone else involved is for some reason trying to wipe out writers whose first and last names start with R. It's not just Roberts. I don't know what it is they find morally objectionable about writers whose first and last names start with R, but this is a very slippery slope. If we let these lists continue, at some point the letter R will disappear in the middle of names too. Who knows, maybe their whole plan is to sta t wiping out the lette  f om the enti e wo ld! Somebody  eally needs to stop these i  esponsible hooligans now!

Thank you for you  time.

Since ely,

obe t Swa twood

P.S. Today's post b ought to you by the lette P.

The Sweet Stench Of Rejection

Roxane Gay did a great post about etiquette and rejection over at the PANK blog. It reiterates the ongoing question of what makes a professional writer. Back when I helped edit Flesh & Blood years and years ago, I don't remember getting that many angry replies to the rejection letters we sent out, if any. Maybe it's a genre thing. Maybe genre writers are more respectful (timid?) than literary writers who, oftentimes, have their heads stuck so very far up their asses. Then again, some genre writers have their heads in the same very places too, so that can't be it either.

The last time I encountered a few rude replies (nothing near what Roxane has had to deal with) it was after sending out responses for the anthology:

Finally, months back I asked what makes a professional writer. After having sent out all rejections, I saw a wide range of professionalism and unprofessionalism. The most notable was a writer/editor who basically said that I was wrong and his stories were in fact right for the anthology. (Classy for sure.) Then there was another writer who wrote back asking what “anthology” she was being rejected from, as she did not remember ever submitting to it in the first place. (Take the extra minute and do a quick search through your own e-mail before making an ass out of yourself.) And then there were a handful of writers who wrote back thanking me for my time but then saying something along the lines that it wasn’t a big deal that their stories weren’t picked as they didn’t spend too much time on them anyway. (Really? Is that supposed to hurt my feelings or something? If anything, you’re making yourself look like an idiot for admitting you didn’t really work on your stories, so yeah, of course your stories didn’t make the cut.) And then finally there were the writers who responded with a nice note saying thanks for reading, which was completely unnecessary but appreciated nonetheless.

Nobody likes to be rejected. We don't submit our stories to magazines hoping that they will be rejected. But at the same time, we can't expect our stories to be accepted to every magazine that we submit them to, either. Sometimes our stories won't be accepted at all. That's just the way it is.

If you're one of these writers who can't deal with rejection and fire off a nasty reply to whichever editor just rejected you (and let's face it: with the speed and accessibility that the Internet grants, clicking that REPLY button can sometimes be awfully tempting), then maybe you should ask yourself whether you should really be a writer in the first place.

The Professionalism Of Negativity

Last year I'd asked what makes a professional writer, and while there were a lot of different great responses, the consensus seemed to hinge on whether or not that particular writer acted in a professional manner. So now I want to ask what should a writer who acts in a professional manner do regarding negative reviews. You could always use Twitter as a way to blast the critic who doesn't like your work. Or there is always the classier option of simply spitting on the person who gave you the bad review. Or ... well, there are many other options to take into account, but deciding which is the best option is key.

Recently online I saw a midlist novelist whose new book just recently come out respond to a not-so-flattering Amazon review. The reviewer made a big stink about how certain parts of the book were politically motivated, and the author took it upon himself to pretty much prove that the reviewer was wrong and an idiot. Not quite the best way to win back that reader, though maybe that reader was already through with the author's work. But, because it was in public, others could see the interaction and maybe were also turned off from reading not only that author's book but all the rest.

The Internet can be a really great thing, but it can also be a scary thing. With enough digging, nothing remains hidden. If you do or say something on it, be prepared that it might get out to others. So if you act like a jackass to one person, be aware that other people will also probably witness your jackassery.

While the Hint Fiction anthology did just get this great and glowing blurb, I'm sure somewhere down the line people will have negative things to say about it. And when that happens, how should I deal with it? Keep in mind that I'm not really asking how I should deal with it -- I know bad reviews are just a way of life, that you have to take it on the chin and move on -- but just throwing it out there for everyone else to think about it.

Because obviously we don't want to be the kind of writer who makes a stink on Twitter, or spits at another person, or debases ourselves by actually defending our work to Amazon reviewers. While all those writers are published by big houses and make a good chunk of money and are considered professional, they're not really professional, are they?