I've noticed something very interesting of late. If I mention the word "Facebook" or "Twitter" amongst an assembly of unpublished writers, I might as well have let out a loud fart in public for the effect it has on a large number of those present. They fidget uncomfortably in their chairs, mutter comments to each other behind their hands about its dangers, snigger, or ignore what I've said altogether. The concept of "blogging" follows close behind in their little book of suspect practices.
It's all part of the "it-was-better-in-the-good-old-days" mentality, which is synonymous to shooting yourself in the foot if you want to gain global attention for your writing. How do I make these Caxtonites realise that tweeting on Twitter is an opportunity to build up a wide following of people who like your writing style before you're even published; also, that these followers will most likely stick around to become fans of your books after publication, as well as telling their friends about you, and that sometimes an unpublished writer's creative tweets can come to the attention of a publisher, as in the case of Simon Sylvester (@simonasylvester)?
There is an excellent article titled 'Build your profile on Twitter' in the February 2011 issue of Writing Magazine (www.writingmagazine.co.uk). It stresses the importance of connecting with a community, as well as having the opportunity to practice your writing within the very tight 140-character constraint of a tweet.
Facebook is more about connecting with people you know, although it also provides an excellent opportunity to share writing news amongst your friends, or send them invites to literary events and book launches. As well as this, you can start a facebook group for your writing circle and, if you like, make the information it contains more widely available to other facebook users than you might with your own personal information or status updates.
I'm at a loss to know what do about the Caxtonites, some of whom even go as far as objecting to emailing or to word-processing. Perhaps it's one of those cases of my needing to show by example rather than ramming a concept down people's throats with evangelical zeal and ending up being blacklisted or lynched. So often, rejection of something new is based on fear of change, or of appearing an ignoramus because you don't understand how it works.
Who knows? Maybe I spend too many hours on the internet while those other aspiring novelists are secretly penning a masterpiece that will - um, dare I say? - end up as a published novel available for sale on Amazon or for download on an e-reader.
