A World Without Social Media

I'd get so much more reading done

Happy Friday, friends! This is your weekly reminder to set your timer for a writing sprint or two and get to work (after you finish reading this newsletter). You’ll feel better, I promise.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

Last night, my husband and I watched an episode of Julia, the HBO Max show based on Julia Child’s life during the production of her television cooking show, The French Chef. I remember re-runs of the program on PBS when I was a kid, but I wasn’t interested in cooking then. I don’t think I ever watched a single episode.

But last night, after Julia finished, my husband suggested we look for The French Chef on YouTube. We ended up watching two episodes, and I learned more about cooking in those sixty minutes than in the last decade. Both of us were transfixed. Preparing dishes like Boeuf Bourguignon and Coq au Vin has always seemed so complicated—even mysterious—to me. But Julia convinced me I could do it.

Beyond my new appreciation for Julia Child, the HBO Max show got me thinking (again) about something unrelated to cooking: I waste too much time on the internet and, specifically, on social media. My Twists & Turns newsletter focuses on uncluttering our minds so we can get our creative work done, and for me, social media is almost exclusively clutter. So little substance is found there—and it gets worse all the time—that it’s mind-numbing. Clutter begets more clutter until there’s no space for anything useful.

And yet, I can’t quit it.

The connection between Julia and my internet problem might seem tenuous, so I’ll explain. Julia and her husband, Paul, pursued so many interests. Their lives were full of art, food, wine, books, travel. Now, obviously, this TV show portrays a life, but it isn’t real life, so perhaps it’s not a good example. Plus, the Childs lived privileged lives by any standard. If they were both working full-time jobs to pay the rent and put food on the table and/or living in poverty, they wouldn’t have time or funds to pursue many of life’s niceties. Regardless, watching it reminded me that I don’t spend nearly as much time as I used to doing things I enjoy.

The time I spend online is the main reason, and I’m desperate to change this.

There is no question I’ve benefitted greatly from the internet and adjacent technologies. For starters, I wouldn’t have been able to watch The French Chef last night if YouTube didn’t exist, right? More importantly, I met my husband through an AOL personal ad I placed on Digital City Los Angeles in late 1996. Theoretically, my discussion of the pros and cons of the internet should end here because meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Beyond that, it’s no exaggeration to say that I’ve met some of my best friends on social media, and I’m deeply grateful.

It’s also been an asset in my writing journey. Shortly after I started writing seriously in 2008, I joined Twitter. The connections I made with other writers and publishing professionals there ignited my resolve to finish my first novel. After seeing a call for submissions from Carina Press, a digital imprint of Harlequin, on Twitter, I submitted my unagented manuscript to them, and MISTRESS OF FORTUNE was published in 2014. I haven’t had what anybody would call a flourishing writing career, but I love what I do and wouldn’t change it.

Early on, Facebook enabled me to get and keep in touch with people I hadn’t seen in decades, mostly from high school and college. At first, it was a thrill. It was fun learning what people were up to, seeing what they looked like now, and who married who. It was like one big reunion. But it wasn’t long before I realized that many of those friends and family held views that were so at odds with my own I eventually chose to unfriend and even block them.

The problem wasn’t so much that their beliefs and/or politics differed from mine. Thoughtful discussions of our differences can be a powerful tool for understanding. But Facebook allowed a new kind of interaction, where people, including myself, could mindlessly forward all sorts of memes and misinformation on a whim. It didn’t matter if something was true; if it seemed true or resonated with a user somehow, they could post it with an easy click of the button. The things that were revealed about people by the content they chose to share were, too often, things I’d rather not know. But once you know it, you can’t unknow it, even if you want to.

Twitter was even worse (and while I’m still on it because I don’t want anyone to take my username, I think I’ve finally weaned myself off it). Instagram seems less terrible, but the rise of influencers has enticed us all to consume junk in ways we probably never did before.

My brain functions differently now. I’ve never been great at concentrating, but now, that ability is completely shot. Doomscrolling is a terrible but compelling habit, as is shop-scrolling (which I don’t think is an official thing, but I can’t tell you how much crap I’ve bought on a whim because I saw it in an ad on social media). Even as I write this, I’ve broken away countless times to check email, text messages, Facebook, Instagram—whatever will serve me a moment’s distraction.

I often ask myself who I’d be now if it wasn’t for social media. How much more would I have written, read, cooked, knitted, painted, or otherwise created? Surely, I’d be brilliant. I long to go back to the “time before,” when my free hours were far more satisfying than they are now. Maybe not all the way back, because I really love my husband, but back to a time before the internet and social media consumed our lives.

I wonder, too, how much has been lost collectively because of the time we all waste on the internet. We’re the metaphoric frogs boiling in a pot of previously cold water who never realized we were dying because we couldn’t feel the temperature rise, only in our case, we’re gradually rewiring (or, in the case of children, wiring) our brains for constant distraction and superficial content consumption.

Last night, I was ready to unplug the internet entirely and live a technology-free life. I’m given to impulsive thoughts like that. Of course, by morning, I’d changed my mind, but I resisted checking social media on my phone and limited my screen time to reading the news. Later, I reviewed my focus settings and tried to come up with other ways to increase friction between me and social media. I still have work to do on this.

There are a million ways to reduce our screen time. If you’ve found successful and consistent ways to do it yourself, please, I beg you, share them with me. My sanity might depend on it.

Thanks for reading. Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!

Holly xx