Part of the large cross authors are asked to bear is that of the ‘socials’. To greater or lesser degrees we’re told that we must develop a following by having a large , and growing, presence on social media, and on the social media in current vogue, be it X, FB, TicToc, Insta, BlueSky etc etc and, more often than not, all of them.

Now for most people this is just an extension of what they do anyway. They just build their writing lives onto the back of their ‘socials’ lives and think nothing more of it. For an avowed, card-carrying, diagnosed introvert of the INTJ (or whatever the test shows today, I flutter between everything except the I depending on my mood and what time the tests taken) breed well, you might as well stick a knife between my ribs and be done with it.

Social media is, simply, a world-wide popularity-wank, kiddies of all ages simply jumping up and down with verbal diarrhea shouting ‘look at me, look at me’ to justify their own flagging ids. Any actual, real value as places for like minded people to make real connections evaporated a decade or so ago and continues to do so. The only thing socials excel at is taking the place of real people, real friends, and time.

Yes, time.

Most authors I know make a point of complaining about how difficult it is to find time to write and, not surprisingly, spend a great deal of time on the ‘socials’ doing exactly that, complaining. It’s probably also no surprise to you that they don’t see the wonderful irony in this. Three hours a day on X and Insta telling everyone why you can’t write? FFS, head down and off the web, in three hours you could get 2,000 words out if you set your mind to it (and feel better).

On top of which, of course, is the toxic sludge-pit the ‘socials’ have become. Not just the anger, hate, sexualisation, marginalisation and politicisation of the sites, but the fact that now if you mention or even have the faint tint of being an author well, you might as well go down to Bondi and get in with a bucket of burley because, honestly, the outcome’s the same. You get instantly pounced on by sharks and Phishers, fake author accounts, pay for service offerings that are useless beyond words and, king of them all this last month, book clubs. Yep, offering that wonderful, original line of ‘yes they’ll all buy their own books, no we don’t charge you, but USD15 a head tip to the 20 readers we guarantee you would be nice’. Yeah, and Trump’s a good, honest, Christian man who’s never had any lecherous thoughts about 13 year olds.

So I’ve done my time on X and FB, had a look at Insta and BS and think them both BS (in the Australian sense). I’ve been “authentic” the past few years to Dec 2025, not dumping promo posts out left right and centre, being supportive, offering encouragement and (where I think I have something to say) offering hints and tips. All of which has, in truth, gotten me no where. Yes, there’s 3,000 followers looking at me but, honestly, not even 1% look at any of my posts; they’re all absolutely drowned out by what the respective algorithms think I want to see; and I’ve never made as single sale because of a ‘socials’ interaction, not even been able to infer that one’s been made.

So.

Starting 1 Jan 2026 I’ve started an experiment. I took the bull by the horns (or its privates, whatever), got myself an auto-post bot, and started to flood the socials like I’ve been ‘encouraged’ to do. I’m engaging with everyone, making comments and smart-arsed posts about whatever pops up in my feeds to get traction. Anything written by or posted by or even sniffed at by an author gets a tick, heart, laugh or other stupid-emoji-face response from me, all to see what difference (if any) it makes. As of today, right now, it’s made absolutely bugger-all, I might as well auto-post pictures of myself back at uni eating roadkill for all the good it’s doing me.

I’m giving it until November this year and, if it remains the toxic pit of garbage it currently displays itself as, I will be erasing Ishmael A Soledad from every social media platform it’s ever been my misfortune to touch. My best guess is that it will certainly generate some dark looks and comments from my publisher, may get up two (or at most three) people’s noses, but will reduce my blood pressure significantly, lift my mood, and free a few hours in my week for some productive activity.

The only exception to the above is this website. Yes, it’s mainly one-way traffic, me to you, and I post only twice a month, but it’s tailored to my writing and my writing alone. So stay around, and have an occasional read to see how things are going

And if you’re an author, an introverted author, and one who really doesn’t care about popularity or mega-sales but would rather stay true to yourself and not the ‘socials’ stereotype of who you should be, think about dumping the toxic-sludge sites. Life might be better for it. I know mine will be,