I keep hearing about how many writer find success on Twitter, connect with fellow writers and fans with ease. Some use it with such finesse, they are famous and a response or retweet make for valuable currency. But…I admit it. I don’t get Twitter. I mean, I get it but I don’t GET it. I’m simply not built for short, pithy posts and it seems like a big blur of words that flies by too fast.
I tried. I really did, back in the early teens when you only got 140 characters and it felt like the shiny new object everyone flocked to. For reasons that I can never quite put words around, I never felt comfortable there. I think you can count on both hands the number of tweets I made. It felt too easy, in that endless flow of words, to put your digital foot in your mouth. And, seeing how many tweets have come back from the past to haunt comedians, politicians and supermodels, it seems I had good instincts.
That isn’t a brag, humble or otherwise. I had my Facebook phase, and, if I ever find myself of some kind, will have something mortifying I posted thrown in my face. That’s not it. I also respect the power of social media. You’re reading this, right? And my professional writing life exists on LinkedIn and, shock, has me back on Facebook for networking. I plan to get off as soon as possible.
But that isn’t the only reason. I tend to overthink things. I mull and twitter and millers do not mix well. By the time I figure out a response, everyone is off to the next topic. I tried to speed things up, but nope. I move at the pace I move and nothing, not even the power of Twitter, can change that.
So, no Twitter for me. I think both of us will be happier that way.