Earlier today, I was going through some old Facebook posts, and came across some from a few years ago, when I had just started on social media. Boy were they funny. And embarrassing.
“This is a rhetorical post.”
What the heck is that supposed to mean?
Yes, that was it. Nothing else. If recollection serves me, one person responded “Why not?”
Do you think any of these posts received “likes?”
My tweets were no better. Yes, geeky. And weird.
In the years since, I’ve grown to share more personal event, artistic, and author/book-related posts. Do you think I still get likes?
None, or very few.
So today I asked the brave question. Why not?
In high school I was a total geek. The only time a girl noticed me, ever, was when, in twelfth grade, my yearbook went missing. One day I found it on top of a locker. When I opened it, a popular girl had written, “I don’t know who this is, but he’s cute.”
Did that make all of my high school years?
But not really.
High school was painful.
“What has changed since then?” I asked myself next.
What has changed since I started on social media several years ago?
I’ve gone from less than a 100 to almost 400 friends on Facebook, and from a few hundred to almost 4,000 Tweeps. I have a very small but mighty group of online friends who I love and who I believe love me back, some personal, most of them bibliophiles. (Just like in high school. Yes, I hung out with just a few fellow geeks).
Well, I’m a #1 Amazon list bestselling author.
Am I popular? Do I get a lot of likes on Facebook now?
Do I get a lot of RT’s and favorites on Twitter.
All in all, I’m the same unpopular geek I was in high school. The same unpopular geek I was when I first started posting on social media.
But you know what? I’m me. I would rather be myself, unique, original, at the cost of popularity, even success. This is because I believe great art comes from the soul, and my soul is geeky. My soul is original. My soul is beautiful. And I don’t think you can create art that will survive more than a few months unless it’s unapologetically original.
I don’t want to be anything else.
There’s something a very well-known author told me, a multiple international bestseller. She said that when she found success, everyone treated her exactly the same. They wrote her off then, and they write her off today.
Now that’s my kind of success.
Yours in literature,