When I published my third novel, Hey, Roomie!, I intentionally gave myself space before returning to blogging. I needed that breath. That pause. The quiet that follows the storm of creation and the noise of a launch. But part of returning to blog life also meant returning to social media. Facebook, Twitter (and no, I will not call it X), and now Bluesky. These are the old stomping grounds, the places I once turned to for connection, inspiration, and community.
But something feels different.
At first glance, my posts are doing well. People are following, liking, commenting. That might sound like progress. And maybe, on paper, it is. But there’s a lingering question I can’t shake: are they really people?
That isn’t as flippant as it sounds. I don’t mean to descend into paranoia or conspiracy, but as I re-engage with the Writing Community, I find myself wondering who exactly is still here. The rise of AI-generated content, bot accounts, and automated engagement tools has left many platforms with a surface that looks lively. When you press your hand to it, though, there’s no warmth beneath.
The messages I get often say things like, “Thanks for the follow. It’s awesome to connect with fellow writers,” or, “Hey, Rayford, how’s the writing going?” Messages like that should feel welcoming. Instead, they leave me staring at the screen, uncertain of whether I’m talking to a person or a marketing script. And while I absolutely respect people trying to grow their audience or sell their work, there is a difference between hustle and hollow. Between outreach and automation. Lately, the balance feels off.
It’s not that I don’t want to interact. I do. I want to connect with other indie authors, cover designers, editors, marketers, and anyone else who breathes life into this industry. I want genuine dialogue, not transactional encounters pretending to be connection. But lately, it feels like I’m digging through dozens of oysters to find a pearl, only to discover most of the shells are filled with plastic beads or sand.
Or, maybe it isn’t the platforms that have changed. Maybe it’s me.
Maybe I’ve grown more introverted. More protective of my time and my energy. Less willing to perform a version of myself that doesn’t quite fit. Maybe this version of social media, where visibility is constant and presence is expected, simply does not serve the kind of quiet creativity I value most. And maybe that is not a flaw, but a shift.
I don’t know exactly what comes next. I’m still figuring out how to be present online without losing the parts of myself that need silence, stillness, and sincerity. What I do know is that when connection is real, it is unmistakable. It doesn’t need tricks or templates.
xoxoxo
