As some of you may or may not know, I come from a humble fandom background.
My roots go deep into the Star Wars and Lord of the Rings fandoms, where I spent years of my life; occasionally I dabbled with TV fandoms such as Lost, The Tudors, and Community. My participation appeared in various forms: making graphics heavy on the feels, writing short drabbles about my favorite OTPs, and generally just reblogging the heck out of anything that made me experience an iota of emotion.
When I first got started on Tumblr, I had no idea just how addictive it could be. Nor how driven I would become to make things that got notes. For those unfamiliar with how Tumblr works, basically you post things, and if other people enjoy those things, they can either Like them or Reblog them. The latter posts the thing on their own Tumblr, giving you credit. Both are considered a note. And I wanted them.
Some people are driven to push out of anonymity and into the spotlight. Maybe it’s an intrinsic human condition, associating attention (of any kind) with love, with self-importance. Maybe each note is a tiny little echo reaching back through the vacuum: someone out there hears you. They see what you’ve done. They dig it.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it. I’m a writer. I tend to do that.
Either way, in hindsight, my hunger for notes seemed a natural evolution from my earlier days on Fanfiction.net when I craved reviews on my stories there. I started spending inordinate amounts of time browsing Tumblr, making graphics, reblogging. If you have any experience with the site, you know what I’m talking about. It’s one of the black holes of the internet: time gets weird up in there.
There’s another side to Tumblr, however.
Some people call it Social Justice Tumblr, and so I will too, but I want to make a note: I, in no way, am using that term derogatorily. Just like on Twitter, many of those people on Tumblr involved in matters of social justice are having important conversations and doing important work. They are to be commended.
Anyway, Social Justice Tumblr taught me a lot about privilege, injustice, and compassion. It undoubtedly made me a better person, more woke. I became aware of the struggles of those outside my limited sphere.
And it made me angry.
Every day, I would open my dashboard and within a few posts, I would be bombarded with outrage about one thing or another. Justified outrage, but outrage nonetheless. By the time I clicked out of Tumblr every day, I would be filled with a sense of righteous fury, but also a strangling helplessness about what to do about it.
This, combined with the amount of time I was spending making graphics, trying to earn momentary fame, and acknowledge from complete strangers, I began to realize I was wasting my time. I wanted to be a published writer, dammit. And what was I doing instead? Fooling around on the internet, getting brief laughs from funny memes, and plunging into deep outrage and sorrow listening to the stories of the disenfranchised.
So I quit.
Cold turkey.
One day, I just decided, that’s it. I was done with this daily ritual of self-torture.
I know this is a benefit of my privilege: the opportunity to look away, to disengage. Many don’t have that option; racism and sexism and homophobia invade their lives. For some, Tumblr is an outlet, allowing them to speak, to rage, to weep. They deserve that space to do so, and I’m glad it exists.
But I couldn’t handle it anymore. It was the first time I learned how to step away from something I (mostly) enjoyed, in order to save my sanity and my mental health.
Ultimately, it ended up being a good thing for me, and my career. I devoted the time formerly spent on Tumblr to revising my novel and engaging with the writing community on Twitter. Months later, I finally got an agent, and many months after that, a book deal. (Quick note of clarification: these things didn’t happen immediately, but I wonder sometimes if they would have happened at all if I hadn’t gotten my priorities in order.)
Which brings me to the present: my return to Tumblr.
Being a debut author is hard.
Maybe I’ll blog about all of the unforeseen challenges about debuting some other time, but for now, I’ll only touch on the biggest one: as a published author with a social media platform, you are now in the public eye. 24/7. Everything you say, blog, tweet is something that can either be used to help promote your brand—or destroy it. Destroy you.
At least, that’s what it feels like. Even while typing up this post, I have been going over it in painstaking detail, trying to make sure I haven’t miscommunicated my thoughts in a way that is offensive or inaccurate to what I actually think and believe. I’m still not sure it’s perfect. I’m still afraid I’ve said something wrong.
And that’s my constant default setting these days: caution.
When I first heard Hamilton, the song “Aaron Burr, Sir” particularly resonated with me for Burr’s lines:
Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.
That’s what it feels like I’m doing a lot of the time. Typing 140-character tweets rather than blogging. Cracking jokes. Never straying too close to any hot-button topic. Tone does not always come through on the internet, and I have to be careful what I say, lest a harmless gaffe can blow up into a massive scandal. I don’t want to lose out on potential readers; but more importantly, I don’t want to contribute anything toxic to these social dialogues. I don’t want to misrepresent myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone with my words.
At the same time, I know it’s unavoidable: I’m a white, straight, CIS, able-bodied woman: I am going to mess up. I am going to say the wrong thing. But knowing that doesn’t ease the fear whatsoever.
I know, you’re wondering what Tumblr has to do with this. “YO HAYLEY WHEN DOES THE SELF-CARE BIT COME IN??”
I recently revisited my old Tumblr. Not my author one, mind you, but my old fandom-related one. And to my surprise, I felt comforted by the anonymity I found there, rather than annoyed by it. I can reblog things just because they made me smile or laugh without thinking about how it relates to my so-called brand. I can write stupid reactions in the tags without judgment. I can just be without the burden of my name.
This formerly abandoned Tumblr is my new safe space on the internet.
Even though I’m a creator, I’m still a fan, first and foremost, and it’s been so much fun indulging that part of my brain again. Feasting on silly gifs and poignant graphics, and generally experiencing all the feels over the characters I love. It has reminded me of why I write: to convey this same passion and consolation to my readers. If nothing else, I hope my stories offer a temporary reprieve from reality, even if for just the span of a Tumblr visit.
To sum, self-care appears in many forms.
Sometimes it means giving up an unhealthy love, stepping away when you wish you were stepping up, and sometimes it means finding a space where you are free to be yourself, to be the flawed individual that we all are beneath our glossy, polished social media personas.
Often, self-care is a matter of constant adjustment, of fine-tuning what you need to not only survive, but thrive. To be happy.
If you’re reading this, I want you to know: you deserve to be happy.
And if you’re not happy, find the thing that makes you happy. It doesn’t have to be the same thing that made you happy when you were 7 or 17 or even a week ago, but if it is, that’s okay, too! Take care of yourself, friends. At the risk of sounding cliche, self-care is a process: a journey, not a destination. There’s no better time than today to take those first steps.
And if you ever need encouragement, you know where to find me.
(Probably on Tumblr.)
I’m not a big Tumblr user myself, but my daughter and especially her friend are. I love the social justice part, but totally get you about how that can be a time-consumer and a burn out. You can only take so much constant outrage.
I’d be really interested in the other potential post you mentioned about the pitfalls of being a debut author. As a long time blogger (previously in marketing–right now, I’m gearing back up slowly blogging for fiction writing), I made mistakes and had some horrible experiences. You have to have that proverbial thick skin. And it’s really hard when you risk trolls going after your books and such. Some people are just awful. I feel for you and know how it is to self-censor every word. It’s not a fun place to be.
Exactly. There’s a point of diminishing returns, where that anger begins to turn to indifference, and that’s no good either. It’s difficult–but necessary–to be able to find a balance between what is perceived, and what is felt. Anger can be helpful, and motivational, but it can also be destructive and self-defeating.
I think I’m going to write up that other blog post, too. There’s a lot written about getting an agent, but much less so on the pressures of having that book deal, especially as a debut author.
You’re right though: you definitely have to have thick skin, and learn to guard yourself from the people who seek to harm your mental health.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Neicole! ^^