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D.R. Ranshaw

D.R. RANSHAW

Dear Twitter

7/27/2020

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Dear Twitter,
 
Haha, you old scalawag! How nice of you to send a little note this past week saying it’s our fifth anniversary! You even offered a special celebratory tweet to that effect, though I declined, since, unlike so many others involved in relationships with you, I’m not particularly inclined to go spilling my life’s mundane/deeply personal/gory (in the metaphorical sense… don’t want to alarm any law enforcement types who might be listening in!) details all over your bright little screen. But your reminder did bring to mind the thought that writing a letter musing about some things that have come to mind over the past five years about us might be apropos at such an august moment. It can take the place of me inquiring, with false solicitousness, how you’re doing… because it’s really very obvious how you’re doing.
 
Five years ago! Wow! Mucho water under the dam, and other hoary clichés. We were so young and foolish then, weren’t we? And the world held such promise, didn’t it? Ah, well… the sands of time, and more hoary clichés. Back then, even as a newly published indie author --- pure as the driven snow and other hoary… well, you know… I was already aware I wanted a relationship with you, my dear. You would be my ticket to fame. (Ah, the innocence of youth.) So I thought of five musings related to that five year anniversary which didn’t quite turn out as I’d thought ‘twould, in my wistful naivete. I’d like to say those five musings are powerful testaments of my undying love and loyalty to you, but alas… it didn’t work out that way, and I’ll be brutally honest. Are you prepared, dearheart? Loins girded and other hoary… well, you know. Right, then, let’s begin.
 
First, my dear, you’re an enormous time waster. There are evidently a lot of writers out there… but they don’t appear to be actually writing, because they’re far too busy posting things --- only a few of which really deal with writing, BTW --- ranging from completely innocuous/banal to stuff that would make a sailor blush (and other hoary…). And curiously --- embarrassingly, really --- many of these self-professed writers are terrible with the actual mechanics of writing, if their tweets are any indication. (Yes, dearheart, I know none of us are perfect… I’ve been known to inadvertently throw out the odd typo now and then, too, but… we can at least strive for perfection in our professed avocation or vocation, can’t we? Instead of laughing it off and saying we’re terrible with spelling or grammar, or besides --- as Mr. K sarcastically noted --- saying that’s what editors are for?)
 
Second, you’re really not a good sales platform. It wasn’t long --- about five minutes into our relationship --- before I figured out most people I follow, and who follow me, are… well, writers. Just like me. Desperately insecure and introverted people, all of whom want our books to become the next Harry Potter. You see the problem, don’t you, Twitter? We’re not particularly interested in buying other people’s books, for heaven’s sake (you should see the size of the TBR pile beside my bed) … no, no, we want other people buying our books. So… you’re a bit of a bust as far as selling the magnum opus goes.
 
Third, you’re generally not really much of a forum for in-depth or deep conversations. Part of that isn’t your fault; even when they doubled tweet lengths from 140 to 280 characters… well, that’s not really enough to do justice to topics of eschatological importance, is it? Although most people don’t seem to want deep conversations, anyway; they display a peculiar preference for sharing either intimate personal details --- the sort that would have made my dear mother blush to hear in public, God rest her soul --- or videos of cats doing strange things. So, if people desire longer conversations, they either have to construct a long thread of hopefully more or less connected tweets --- which can be rather like having to read War and Peace on the sides of multiple cereal boxes --- or go into the hidden realm of DMs. Which you’re not supposed to do unsolicited. (Besides, the DM realm seems mostly populated by variations on “Hi! Thanks for following me! PLEASE buy my book!” Oy.)
 
Fourth, and most seriously, you don’t promote civility --- in fact, quite the reverse. Now, this isn’t totally your fault, dear… but you, and all your relatives in the Social Media Universe, have absolutely exacerbated the problem. (I was going to coin that as an alternative to ‘the DC Universe,’ but ‘the SM Universe’ has some rather unfortunate connotations, don’t you think?) You give the bullies out there a nice electronic screen (literally as well as figuratively) to hide behind and say the most AWFUL things most people wouldn’t have the nerve to say to other people in person. And it’s getting progressively worse. We’re becoming a society of vicious haters, spewing venom over the slightest imagined difference of opinion, or perceived slight. I’m becoming hesitant to voice opinions on your platform, because people can’t merely politely disagree, it seems… they want to slam others to the mat in choke-holds.
 
So, is it over for us? Well… no, all’s not totally bleak, sweetheart. I saved a positive note for last: you can foster a sense of community. Note I’m not saying you automatically do, just that you can. There are a small number of people out there with whom I exchange humourous asides and pithy comments from time to time.
 
But I had an interesting epiphany the other day… took my wife to the hospital for a scheduled test, bringing my trusty Dell Inspiron to do some writing during the couple of hours or so it would take. And because of my (well-justified) paranoia about open wi-fi networks, I put my laptop into airplane mode; then I inserted my earbuds, cranked up my iPod, and having shut out Ye Olde Cruel Worlde (including you), wrote effortlessly for the next couple of hours. It was glorious.
 
And the kicker? Well, Twitter, I confess… I didn’t miss you one bit.
 
#sorry not sorry, as they say.

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You Need To Calm Down

7/6/2020

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Except it’s waay too long, today’s post title could --- probably should --- read: “Who Are These People And Why Are They Saying Such Awful Things About This Work And The People Involved In It?” But as I say, that’s unwieldy, so perhaps I should simply take a page (title) from Taylor Swift and call it, with sincere apologies to Ms. Swift: You Need To Calm Down.
               
Her catchy 2019 song deals with homophobia and transphobia, but the title really is applicable to so many things and so many people in our Angry, Angry Society. Before I go any further, I should clarify: I’m not upset about negativity related to my own work… I’m so laughably unfamous (a deliberate spelling, BTW, not infamous, which I’m also not), I’ve never attracted the attention of haters. Not that I especially want to, either, but lamentably, in today’s AAS (Angry, Angry Society, remember?), it seems all too par-for-the-course when people rant/vent/foam-at-the-mouth --- I was originally going to use the words debate or discuss, but that implies a degree of rationality completely lacking in the AAS --- about creative works released across the spectrum.
               
My musings arose as a couple of questions occurring to me some time back, but seem really relevant in light of recent events: first, how much does/should a creator pay attention to readers/viewers/fans? And the ancillary question --- which actually is, by far, the more important one --- becomes: who’s the story for? 
                 
I think the questions first occurred to me around the time of the Game of Thrones season 8 fiasco. Now, my disclaimer here is I haven’t seen it… yet. I’ve watched season 6, with 7 and 8 sitting on my TBV (to be viewed) Blu-Ray pile beside the TV.
         
(What? you gasp incredulously. You haven’t seen it yet? Yeah, yeah, relax. You Need To Calm Down, remember? I’ll get around to it at some point. Part of the problem is my wife --- AKA She of Gentle Sensibilities --- refused to watch any more GoT with me after the Red Wedding. Which, frankly, I find more than understandable; but what it means is I have to find a time to watch GoT on my own, when she’s not around. Which I have yet to do. Besides, I’m one of those morally bankrupt people who’ve seen most of the spoilers on YouTube, anyway, which I admit may have removed some of the urgency to see it.)
               
I think it’s fair to say the general reaction to GoT’s season 8 was more or less uniformly negative… except that would be like saying the Pacific Ocean holds some water: it encapsulates the idea, you know, but laughably understates it. I saw a lot of vitriol, some barely literate, spewed against the writers, production people, George R.R. Martin --- even the actors involved, for crying out loud, as though they had any creative control over lines they spoke. (If you ever desire further reason to be depressed about the state of humanity, just read the comments sections on YouTube videos. Oh, the humanity.)
               
It was the same thing in recent weeks with the release of a PlayStation video game called The Last of Us 2 (a sequel, as the ‘2’ in the title should tip you to). The original, unsurprisingly titled The Last of Us (TLOU), was released in 2014 to overwhelmingly positive reviews. It’s a (what else, these days?) post-apocalyptic tale set in a world where society has more or less collapsed following a particularly gruesome plague, which turns the infected into fungal-sprouting murderous maniacs. TLOU tells the story of a young girl, who turns out to be the only known immune person, and the man who reluctantly accepts the task of taking her across America to the one place where a vaccine may be recovered from her. The tale loses much in shrinking to that bare-bones statement, because it deals superbly with the development of the father-daughter relationship between two characters who initially loathe each other. It was a great story that met with widespread acclaim. So, of course, everyone looked forward to the sequel… which came out a few weeks ago.
               
The reaction to TLOU2 has been far more uneven. Granted, it’s a much darker tale than the original, focusing mostly on the futility of hatred and revenge. (And yes, by the way, I’ve played both games and happen to think they’re both superbly done, although like any creative endeavour, neither is perfect, and there are aspects I don’t necessarily like.) But as both a writer and a person, the only thing that’s really disturbed me about TLOU2 is the amount of venom directed, once again, at its creators… even the actors. There’s an online petition for the company to scrap the game and re-do it “right.” And an actor playing one of the female leads has actually received death threats --- in real life --- because the character she plays in the game kills the male protagonist from TLOU. As I said earlier, as though she had any say in what her character does in the game.
               
It’s all well and good to become immersed in the story you read/hear/view; after all, that’s what writers and other creators dream of when crafting their stories. We want our audience involved. But… petitions? Obscenity-laden rants? Death threats? What the hell, people?
               
Returning to my earlier questions, here’s the answer: the story is for the Creator. You write the story you’re given, not the one you think will make the most money… as long as you’ve any integrity, anyway. And let’s not be under any illusions: the story is given you, and you’ve precious little --- if any --- control over it. I’ve had characters in my stories do things I really didn’t want them to do, for example. But the story is the story, and you write --- let me say it a third time, lest you’ve any remaining doubts --- what you’re given. In other words, you write for yourself. Sure, you hope like hell it resonates with other people --- many, many people --- because, as storytellers, we want our tales heard and appreciated. But fans have no right to insist tales be told this or that way. They don’t have to like a particular tale. But… death threats?
               
​C’mon, people. You Need To Calm Down.
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    D.R. Ranshaw's Blog

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    Author of The Annals of Arrinor series.  Lover of great literature, fine wine, and chocolate. Not necessarily in that order.

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