What Is a Writer To Do?

There’s a troubling irony hanging over the modern writing life. We writers are told that writing is about truth, imagination, and human connection, yet increasingly we’re expected to promote our work through digital platforms that often seem to undermine those very values. Case in point: the utterly ridiculous “UFC Freedom 250” cage match held on the White House lawn yesterday, with multiple tech giants in attendance.

When my first book was published twenty-five years ago, social media was in its infancy and wasn’t yet part of a writer’s daily life. Back then, my primary responsibility was, blissfully, to write. Marketing existed, of course, but publishers handled much of it. Today, whether traditionally published or independent, writers are encouraged—pressured, even—to do the overwhelming heavy lifting for marketing with digital promotion. We’re told to build a platform, engage with followers, create reels, share updates, and remain visible in the endless churn of the algorithm.

For many writers, Facebook remains an effective tool to reach readers when we have a new book or upcoming event to promote (not to mention that I do still love seeing pictures of life events from loved ones). Yet using Facebook increasingly feels like participating in a system I find ethically gross. It feels like my arm is being twisted further and further behind my back by a bully waiting for me to cry “Uncle!”

The platform has faced years of criticism regarding privacy concerns, misinformation, political influence, and the way its algorithms encourage polarization rather than meaningful connection. Whether one agrees with every criticism or not, the concerns are difficult to ignore. The company and its leadership have become deeply intertwined with political and cultural controversies, not even bothering to hide it anymore. Every headline seems to force users to confront a new ethical dilemma about where they spend their time, attention, and money.

After the news reports this weekend and watching billionaire tech executives cozy up to political power to watch a cage match on the lawn of our nation’s White House, I felt like my writer’s arm had been twisted so far behind my back it finally snapped.

I’m a writer who cares deeply about ideas, creativity, democracy, social justice, and public discourse. I also care deeply about a twenty-five-year career I’ve worked my ass off to build across three novels, a short story collection, fifty-plus personal essays, hundreds of author events, and thousands of hours of teaching.

And yet, I feel reduced to a follower count on platforms owned by billionaires I ethically despise.

What is a writer to do?

I know the easy answer is to leave. Delete the accounts and not participate anymore. I did it with Twitter/X after that platform became what felt like a cesspool and my well-being couldn’t take it anymore. I know there’s integrity in the choice to walk away. Some writers have already made that decision and found alternative ways to connect with readers through alternative means.

But for a writer like me (and many others I know), the decision isn’t so simple.

Writing rarely pays enough on its own. Most authors (again, me) aren’t celebrities, bestsellers, or household names. I’ve juggled the equivalent of two full-time jobs for fifteen years now, both writing and teaching creative writing in academia, not to mention taking on freelance assignments, speaking gigs, and extra teaching at writing conferences. I depend on every opportunity to reach readers. Refusing social media can feel less like a principled stand and more like professional self-sabotage.

Modern writers now work and operate within so many imperfect systems. We use technology built by corporations whose values may not align with our own. We sell our books through massive retailers. We advertise on platforms we distrust. And we navigate compromises because the alternatives have become desperately limited. We can’t stuff the toothpaste back into the tube, as the saying goes. (But even more unfairly, we’re not the ones who squeezed it out).

So, with the overwhelming marketing responsibilities shifted to authors and digital platforms, maybe the question isn’t whether writers should use these platforms, but how. And in a way that doesn’t break our arms behind our backs.

Do we try to engage without becoming consumed? Use the tools while remaining clear-eyed about their flaws? Remember that social media is a means rather than an end? And of course, continue to do what we’ve always done: tell the truth as we see it.

These answers don’t satisfy me, but I haven’t yet found better ones. I’m negotiating these tensions in real time. I want readers, community, and my books and creative work to find audiences. At the same time, I want to live according to my values, values that don’t involve tech bros watching cage matches on my government lawn. So, the conundrum continues.

I keep telling myself that long before Facebook existed, writers found ways to reach readers. I like to think that long after today’s digital platforms fade, we’ll continue to do the same. That our words and stories from labored hearts will outlast any post or algorithm, and land in the hands of curious readers.