There. I said it. I totally suck when it comes to microblogging. I didn’t always. I have friends who used to get all excited when I’d pop on my original twitter and start dweeting porn.
Dweeting = Drunk + Tweeting. Porn is self-explanatory. 😉
Yep, I’d have two or three glasses of wine, start watching a great scene on my laptop that I’d either link to or credit, and then I’d start describing in graphic detail what was happening on screen, along with my candid reactions. You didn’t need to watch to know what was going on.
What happened? I opened my @PosyRoberts Twitter account, and I froze. Suddenly Twitter went from being this fun place to hang out, be crass (cuz I have to hold that shit back All. Fucking. Day. Long!!!), and to share dirty pictures or kinky stories with each other. It suddenly became my place of business.
So I quit tweeting, unless it was related to a book release or maybe something that had inspired my writing, or the stuff I had automatically tweeted from my website or my Facebook page. I used to have playful banter go back and forth with friends, but on my author page, I felt like I was having private conversations on a public forum. That’s a bit laughable, isn’t it? That’s the nature of social media.
What do I do about it? I still have my secured original Twitter, but I rarely use it. People have either moved on or else we now follow each other on my @PosyRoberts account. Mostly, I’ve moved to using Facebook or keeping my mouth shut. Yet, I miss the quick conversations that used to happen on Twitter in my early days in 2009. With all the people I interacted with, the trail of incrimination seemed to disappear quickly too, unless someone was desperate enough to start searching through my history, which was a lot harder “back in the day” than it is today.
Do you mind when an author gets a little bit “out there” on their Twitter? I want to sell books, but more than anything in the entire world, I want to be a genuine person. That gets me in to trouble at times, because I open my mouth and insert my foot. I’m an expert in doing so, in fact.
How much is too much? How far is too far? I think if I knew I was only reaching those people who could handle the perviness I regularly dish out (at least in my head), then I’d be fine.
But I do miss being on the fringe. I miss dweeting porn too. *weary sigh*