Rocks don’t care about social media. No, really. They’re very old school that way. They refuse to promote their work, post their photos or share their news. They don’t fear being left behind and feeling out of it. They aren’t even worried about being called old fossils.
Rocks don’t do digital. Instead they focus on carrying the history of the universe and holding the world up. Nothing to blog about.
If only writers could be so Zen. But we’re encouraged to embrace social media, to friend and follow and comment, even when we’re introverts who’d really rather hide under one of those rocks.
I resisted social networking sites as long as possible. Besides being shy of the Internet, I worried about wasting my writing time. I had no idea what the real downside would be: Facebook and Twitter often make me feel incompetent, overwhelmed and intimidated.
I’m never sure I’m doing things right. And then there are so many terrific writers out there, with cool websites, entertaining blogs, awesome books and big-name agents. All that competition can reduce me to high-school style fretting: Who has the most friends? The most followers? The best photos? The funniest posts? The wittiest tweets? The most comments? The most Likes? And so on.
But just like in high school , not everybody was invited. Because I write YA fiction, I figured the high-school-is-hell feeling might prove useful anyway. So I begged an invitation from a cool person.
From what I’ve heard, I’ll probably love Google+ once I actually join. But I’m still stuck on creating my profile. Apparently Google+ considers all the photos I’ve tried to use invalid. Or maybe too big, even after I’ve resized them. Yes, I could sign up without a photo, but that would be like wearing the wrong thing to a high-school party.
While I was searching for something that Google+ might accept, I got distracted looking at my other photos. And that’s when I realized I don’t need social media to remind me I’m nobody.
Rocks are what really humble me. They always make me feel unimportant in the great scheme of things. But in a good way. It’s so comforting to know that they were around long before Facebook and Twitter and Google+, and will still be around when social networking is over.
Rocks are content to simply exist.
I totally support their choice to stay offline while they turn to sand. I respect their right to disregard social media forever. And I thank them for giving me perspective on my literary career. For making me realize and accept my own insignificance.
Hey, maybe I’ll tweet that!