Flies. They walk over s**t. They trample through carrion. Their babies are maggots. I know they’re God’s creatures. I know they have a purpose. I know they have as much right to life as I have. But. I hate flies. I abhor them. I despise them. I kill them.
Unlike spiders, flies do their best to announce their presence. They fly recklessly around the room, eventually two centimeters from my face always at eye level. And they buzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Twitter for me is like a fly. All day long tweople buzz their quotes from Ghandi and the Dalai Lama around the head of the internet. They recklessly toss their products and free offers in my face, whether I want them or not. They fly around my home space and stop to show off the long trains
of conversation they’re privileged to have with this celebrity or that entertainer. They distract me with insignificant news of being stuck in traffic or of how busy they are buzzing in their followers’ ears.
As an independent publisher, I know only too well that Twitter is a necessary tool that can empower someone like me who’s responsible for establishing her own reader base. After I’ve posted this piece on my blog, I’ll head straight to Twitter to inform those who are following my tweets of its existence. When I read an enlightening article from a Muslim woman on wearing a naquib, I retweeted. When my book is released, I will announce it. I do indeed have a powerful, ready-made venue at hand for spreading my messages. But at what point does a tweeter become as pesky as my friend the fly?
A celebrity that I USED TO follow repeatedly tweeted her request to increase her reach to 10,000 followers. She tweeted a message that went something like this:
“I follow hundreds of people who don’t follow me. People, why aren’t you following me back?” Is there a magic number of followers you need to interest sponsors and advertisers? Is it to prove how popular you are? I used to follow another person who’d save up at least 10 inspirational saying
just so she could tweet them at the same time, in succession. If I want to be reminded that “early to bed early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise” I’ll read up on my Benjamin Franklin.
I love the tweets that link useful writing tips. I love links to articles that teach me something about another culture. I forward articles and link to blogs that show black women doing something creative and positive with their time here on earth. I’ll check out the websites of twitterers of quality. I may even buy their products. Quantity is just that, and I won’t waste my time following up on someone who buzzes about waiting in line to pump gas or about how delicious organic apples are.
We’ve become so obsessed with numbers that we’ve lost sight of what they really mean. My understanding of Twitter etiquette is that if I follow someone, s/he’ll follow me back regardless of who I am or what I might stand for. Chances are, s/he will never know about my writing process or about my daily life as a black woman living abroad or about how I overcame the
limitations of my identity. Therefore, s/he will not read my book. So what’s the point? I may lose a follower or two or a hundred. But, then again, I’d rather communicate with people who are actually willing to listen to my message than simply be an irritating fly in their ear.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
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