I love Twitter. It is a great tool for me to get the word out about my books, and connect with people across this big blue and green globe of ours. I am happy I stumbled across it months ago, and then happened to talk to @thenextwriter who helped me understand its awesomeness. I see the traffic it generates for my blog, and for that alone, it’s worth the time and effort I put into it.
But (you knew it was coming), I do find myself experiencing two whole new levels of anxiety, or to reflect the spirit of the community let’s call it “Twitxiety.” And it is very much reminiscent of my days in high school when I was desperate to try to find a way to fit in. The Twitxiety stems from the all important “follow” status. Getting “followers” is akin to getting a prom date. You feel accepted in the virtual Twitter world. You feel worthy. Yippie, for me, someone likes me or fake likes me in order to try to get me to buy their nifty new way to make a million dollars online. That’s okay. They cared enough to pretend to like me, and I could always use a million dollars. The “follower” is da bomb as they used to say in my day.
And then there’s the “following,” but not being followed status. This is the no-response rejection. You find someone on Twitter you think is interesting; you click the “follow” button, and then they completely ignore you. It’s like sitting by your phone and waiting for them to call. You turn up the charm and say something clever in a “Tweet” hoping somebody they “follow” will “Retweet,” and they might somehow recognize your follow worthiness. And still nothing. You calculate your “Following” to “Followers” ratio and wonder where you went so wrong in life to be so rejected. My mother likes me. Then again if she had a Twitter account maybe she wouldn’t follow me either.
Worst of all, there is the dreaded “Unfollow.” You are so foul and loathsome that Twitters actually go out of their way to stop following you. It’s like someone breaking up with you or getting fired from your job. Sometimes you even have the urge to “Reply” to them (Direct Message is not an option if they aren’t following you), to ask them what you did. Maybe even try to convince them that you can change. You can be “follow” worthy.
I’m a writer. I’ve experienced enough rejection to warrant my own book in the Bible. I’m talking epic proportions of rejection. I can take it. For now, Twitter’s pros far outweigh the cons, but there’s a good chance I may have to go on some anti-Twitxiety medication.