The Artist + The Algorithm
These notes originally appeared in my digital zine on creativity, The Beautiful Worst. To receive these musings and field notes on managing a creative practice in your inbox, become a subscriber.
What’s it like to be an artist without social media? Anytime I’d ask myself this question, I never bothered to answer it. Social media, along with a newsletter and a website, are the cornerstones of a writer’s online presence. But, over the last few years, I’ve increasingly questioned if social media—Instagram in particular, my preferred platform—is the right place for me and my writing. When it reached the point where I’d hop on Instagram and be bombarded by a flurry of videos for brands I didn’t know or follow, I no longer recognized the once-cozy corner of the internet where I gathered with other writers to talk about our work-in-progress. It never felt like I had much choice in whether or not I used social media, but I began to consider, maybe I’d spent so much time revising my habits to appease Instagram’s algorithm that I never had the chance to find alternatives. In 2022, I decided to take a break from Instagram to see how it might impact my creative practice. Here’s what I discovered:
Field Notes: A Year of Creating Without Social Media
During the first few weeks, I felt like I was going through a break-up. The void without social media left me feeling lonely and insecure. There was a sense of loss in the change of my routines. I’d questioned myself—Did I make the right decision? Should I go back? I reminded myself, if the purpose of taking a step back from social media was to find alternatives, to start seeking them—and not let questioning if I had made the right decision occupy my time. Committing to a year off social media helped me stop worrying about if I was doing the wrong thing, and helped me pay attention to how I was feeling, and any differences in my work. And, like a break-up, leaving something behind eventually created the space for new opportunities.
After a few months, I was really busy with drafting The Myth of The West. Breaking the midpoint of the novel was very difficult, and I was too preoccupied with figuring out the puzzle pieces of the plot to think much about social media—and if I did, I was relieved that I didn’t have the additional pressure of posting. But, in the idle time just after lunch when I would typically scroll, I started browsing YouTube videos. It occurred to me to see if there was any commentary on leaving Instagram—and I was surprised that there were tons of other creators who felt similarly to me.
Hearing stories from other artists who left social media affirmed the things that I had been experiencing and questions I had been asking myself that ranged from the personal (Are these migraines from using my phone too much? Is traveling with my readers [and the rest of the world] in my pocket all day helping or hurting my anxiety?) to the creative (Is this stress from my deadline or the pressure of posting to Instagram? Is this saccharine voice [as Jon Lanier describes it] that has become part of my online personae making it harder to take creative risks?) to the practical (Is adapting to the algorithm’s constant updates a good use of my time? Is social media actually helping me get the results I’m seeking?).
These testimonials, a marketing without social media workshop, and the intentional time offline helped me remember I joined social media with a specific purpose in my creative work, but somewhere along the line it became all-encompassing. Whether it was moving to a new city, the pandemic, or the algorithm slowly conditioning me (likely, all three), Instagram evolved from a place where I’d share a quick update to an invisible presence that was with me all the time. Leaving social media, I was tasked with re-identifying those original purposes—like making my work discoverable to new readers, or maintaining a hub where we can talk about what we’re reading and writing—and finding other venues.
Halfway through the year, I paused the story subscription program. I needed more time to properly develop the midpoint of The Myth of The West, and I also wanted to create educational materials that had been on my to-do list for years. In retrospect, I felt empowered to take this break because I had already been off social media. If I was still regularly posting, I would’ve felt guilty for admitting that I needed time and space and likely would’ve opted to keep going—to the detriment of the projects, the long-term sustainability of my work, and my mental health.
Somewhere along the line, almost without me noticing, I started feeling a sense of peace—the kind of contentment I’d be looking for when I picked up my phone to scroll, but would never find in that un-ending feed. I also started to find a sense of grounding, something I realized I needed in December 2021 when my editor returned my manuscripts and I began to assess my next steps to wider publication. That sense of grounding has made it possible for me to relax as I share my work—including these notes.
For additional reading:
Unfollow Me - Jill Louise Busby
How to Resist Amazon and Why - Danny Caine
Seek You - Kristen Radtke