My Instagram account reached 50k followers a few weeks ago. Was it worth the time and effort? In some ways, no.
Any aspiring author these days knows that having a platform is no longer optional. With the advertising side of publishing falling more and more onto the author, it’s no wonder.
Platform is no longer optional.
So we build our platform. We blog. We post funny writing memes. We Tweet about our struggles and victories. We do goofy polls on Instagram. And slowly, more and more people stop by and decide to stay. But is it worth the effort?
I like to think of building platform as a local band in the days before the internet, trying to build an audience. They start passing out flyers and play cover songs at local coffee shops and pubs. Word spreads over the months and slowly, they interest people with snippets of their abilities and clever advertising. They manage to book an auditorium which seats 1,000 people. Even crazier, they actually sell out! Everyone shows up excited to hear this new band. They could be the next big thing! When the band members step on stage, the whole room buzzes with electricity and anticipation.
Now I want you to imagine that this fresh band has one small secret — they haven’t written a single song. In fact, they haven’t even practiced in weeks. They have no idea what they’re about to play.
It’s not hard to picture how this will end.
This is what getting caught up in “marketing yourself” can do to aspiring authors. It’s necessary to build a platform. But it’s ultimately useless if you have nothing to give your audience. Like the band, we need to start early with flyers and snippets of our abilities (or in our case, social media and blogs). But none of that matters if we fail to actually write our novel. Learning our trade comes before anything else. Progressing chapter by chapter is more important than posting on Instagram. Short stories are more valuable than any Tweet, no matter the retweet count. Even a simple word sprint will at least stretch our abilities more than posting a handful of pointed memes and funny Tweets.
It’s necessary to build a platform. But it’s ultimately useless if you have nothing to give your audience.
But can’t this be said of any hobby or activity that isn’t writing? Isn’t Netflix or Hulu or HGTV even worse? At least building a platform achieves something valuable.
Ah, but that’s the trap. Building your platform gives you the illusion of having completed your writer-ly duties. Tell me if this sounds familiar. “Should I write a chapter tonight? Nah, I already made a pretty lengthy Tumblr post about how to write sword duels.” Or how about, “Dang, I gained a thousand followers last month. If even 1% of them buy my book, that’s 10 extra readers!”
Building your platform gives you the illusion of having completed your writer-ly duties.
The pitfalls are subtle but dangerous. Posting on Tumblr and gaining followers are good things. The problem occurs when you allow it to substitute actual, old-fashioned writing.
I’ve had my Instagram for four years now. In that time, I’ve posted over 1000 times. I’ve also written two books, the second of which I have rewritten four times and drafted seven times. I’ve posted blogs, made YouTube videos, and queried dozens of agents. But yet I’ve written only one chapter in the last four weeks.
So what changed? How did I go from managing my platform and writing/editing frequently to just managing the platform and nothing else? I’ve got two words for you:
Numbers and scrolling.
I catch myself obsessing over the growth and engagement of my account. How many retweets am I averaging? How many people followed me yesterday?How many claps did my Medium blog get?
What value do any of these numbers give me? A shot of dopamine, quite frankly. There’s miles of research on the subject, so I won’t get into it. But honestly I’m just patting myself on the back when I head to the stats page. Or when things aren’t going so well, I agonize over them. But this knowledge of my growth of lack thereof changes nothing. I’m still going to post once a day regardless. My content is still going to be somewhat funny with a touch of inspiration. I’m still going to have conversations with my followers. The knowledge literally adds no real value to my life. Usually, it just subtracts from it.
Scrolling is worse for most of us than checking numbers. I know we’ve all been there. We get on Instagram or Twitter to post a funny “writer’s moment” like this one:
And then instead of hopping off after checking in with a few of our writer friends, we just…scroll. And scroll. And scroll. And
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o
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Before we know it, it’s been an hour and a half and we’ve used our writing time to consume Tweets. We’ve got work or school in the morning, and we’ve written one Tweet and 0 words.
At this point, the question must be asked: how do we have our platform and it eat too? Or something like that.
First, we have to be aware of the problem. That’s where this article comes in. If you find yourself nodding along like, “Ah yes, I too have fallen victim to Instagram’s uncanny predictions of what content I like,” then you know it’s a problem. For me, the reminder came, surprisingly, from a sermon.
Step one, acknowledge the problem.
The sermon lead me to these questions: what was I made to do, write or scroll through Tumblr? Write or obsess over numbers? Write or “research” on YouTube by watching “Irish People Try American Breakfast Cereals”.
Second step, fix it. But how? Honestly, I’m still figuring it out. It’s different for every person. Maybe for you it’s creating specific times set aside for you to post, interact with followers, and genuinely build your platform. Then you move on with your day.
One thing I do is set my phone across the room. This was my wife’s idea, actually. And man does it reveal how dependent I am on that thing. I find myself subconsciously pawing at my pockets or patting the bed around me before I stop myself and return my focus to what’s at hand.
I’m still figuring this out, and I know you’ve got places to be. So here is a burst of ideas to help you balance platform building with writing.
- Write first, build platform later.
- Set a timer before you get on to check/post on social media.
- Have a set purpose when you open the app (e.g. “I’m only going to reply to comments on my most recent post then get off).
- Unplug your router or turn your device on airplane mode while writing.
- Set your phone password to “4-8-15-16-23-42” so you can’t log in subconsciously.
- Have a writer friend who will keep you accountable.
- Honestly, whatever you find that works. There’s a million ways to do this. The most important part is to decide you’re going to prioritize writing.
That’s all I’ve got. Just write more, yeah? Social media is a tool and a classic Indiana Jones trap — there’s a shiny jewel, but you gotta outrun a boulder of un-productivity before it steamrolls your writing time.
