Andrew Cotto is a success at being social, which makes his apparent failure at social media all the more puzzling.
I’m a social person. I do this well. I learned at the hip of my mother, who looked like a model and acted like benevolent royalty. She was engaging and inclusive. The woman could start a party in a line at the bank. She showed me the power of personal interaction, and I flourished throughout my life as a social animal, making endless connections with people from endless backgrounds. I’d been blessed by this in immense amounts of meaningful friendships and gratifying acquaintances. Beyond the real life benefits, my stature as a social success story has been formally recognized by a variety of actual superlatives, from most popular student to most popular professor; hell, I was so well-known in my college days, my ass was awarded a prize by my graduating class (true story). Though, sadly, in the world of social media, I’m best characterized as simply being an ass.
This, I don’t do so well. There’s a dynamic of technical expertise and social-digital elan I just haven’t mastered. It began with e-mail back in my days as a salesman. My attempts at engagement were often clumsy, annoying, stilted and embarrassing: I was the guy who made the joke that most of the mailing list didn’t get; the dope who copied the entire mailing list on the joke intended for a single recipient. Oops. My quips or comments were often misconstrued as snarky or tone deaf or curt. I couldn’t (and still can’t) get myself to use an emoticon or even the (: thingy that people do to imply humor. I just couldn’t electronically mimic the wit or wink or touch I employed to facilitate successful relationships in the flesh. This has become a problem for me in the age of social media.
I’m a writer. In today’s age, a writer can’t be reclusive, which is cool because my least favorite thing about writing is the social isolation. But to be a publically recognized writer we must be endless self-promoters through the medium of social media. At this, I’m a dork. I either send out too many notices or not enough. Whichever the case, I often do so without the intended link attached. I stumble on Stumblr and fumble on Tumblr. I’m deadit to Reddit. OpenSalon is essentially closed to me. I’ve inadvertently, on two occasions, invited my entire contact list to link to me on linkedin (sorry about that Grandma). My facebook presence is slightly more fruitful, though it seems every time I post what I deem to be an important link to an article or publishing news, someone just before or after (or often both) has just uploaded a photo of their order at Starbucks or mentioned the song they just heard on the radio which garners the multitude of “likes” and “shares” I would like to be shared with my news.
That said, my mother did not raise a quitter. I recognize the importance of social media as a means of communication, and I, as a writer of novels and articles, am in the business of communication. Despite the challenges it puts on my intellect and inclinations, I must persevere. I want an audience. I want to be heard by as many people as possible, not to win awards (though my ass is missing the attention), but to do what I did as a popular person and what I intended to do when I embarked on this career as a writer: connect with people. The social media medium is the most inclusive method to date for each individual voice to connect. So, I must do this. It’s how I was raised.
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illustration by zballer / flickr
About Andrew Cotto
BTW Andrew… you owe me an email.
Or should I ASSUME you don’t want me to come see the marathon with you guys?
Well Andrew, you have discribed your mother extremely well. As always, I enjoy your writings. But then I might be slight prejudiced.
Uncle Dan
Thanks, Uncle Danny!
That’s the kind of prejudice I can get behind.
Best,
Andy
If Shakespeare were here, he couldn’t help with your social media awkwardness, but he might e-mail your ass with this passage from Much Ado About Nothing:
O that he were here to write me
down an ass! But, masters, remember that I am an
ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not
that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of
piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness.
I am a wise fellow, and, which is more, an officer,
and, which is more, a householder, and, which is
more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in
Messina, and one that knows the law, go to; and a
rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath
had losses, and one that hath two gowns and every
thing handsome about him. Bring him away. O that
I had been writ down an ass!
Thanks, Marcus. Clearly the first time Shakespeare has ever been evoked by something I wrote. Much appreciated.
Best,
Andrew
I enjoyed your article. I think it’s a similar scenario that musicians face as well. It’s not enough to write or record the song or article but it’s expected that an artist is out there pushing his or her work forward. Keep pushing it out there Andrew, you’re an enjoyable read.
Thanks, Kevin. Great analogy. Writers, like musicians, must promote themselves. This is a new frontier we, as contemporary artists, must conquer.
Best,
Andrew
Great article! So funny and insightful.
Thanks, Venieka! You have wonderful taste.
Andrew,
It matters not to me that you have trouble managing all the things you mentioned, i.e opensalon etc., as I have no idea what you’re talking about. But, I know good writing when I read it, and I enjoy and look forward to what you have to say. And, I’m not the only one. God Bless. Pat
Thank you, Pat! Your support is very validating and appreciated.
Best,
Andrew
Andrew…I loved your mother and she would be so proud of you…keep on, keeping on..Mrs.O
Thank you! I appreciate that very much.
Andrew, Thanks for this well written post! As an online writer I completely understand. Although in person I’m probably more awkward
. Btw, have you read MY recent posts, lol. Daria
Hey Daria!
Thanks for writing. I may not be so smooth in person as I say…though I’m still better than online. Make sure Doug (or you!) sends me your posts. I love reading them.
Best,
Andrew
As your friend in the entertainment business who…
…has a Facebook account and hides/never uses it because of “old man” privacy concerns
…has a Twitter account but only follows other peoples “interesting” tidbits for work purposes
…like you, prefers face to face interaction by far
…I beg you, please stay at this social networking thing. All of your “in-world” friends never tire of hearing from you in any capacity. Also, I plan on appealing to the teacher in you to pull me into the future when you reach your full social potential!
Thanks, Mark!!
I think dudes of our age and skill-set can have a problem with technology. That said, I’ll figure it out and bring you along, brother.
Best,
Andrew
Yes, yes, yes, and yes. I’ve had a crash course in social media ever since I self-published my first book recently. I am a nurse, and used to interacting with real people, so I am social-media challenged too. I am dead-solid positive that I annoy the living daylights out of my 800+ twitter followers. However, since I don’t actually know any of them, I don’t let it bother me too much.
Yes, yes, yes, and yes!
I’ve had a crash course in social media ever since I self-published my first book recently. I am a nurse and a baby boomer, and used to interacting with real people. I guess that makes me doubly social-media challenged. I am dead-solid positive that I annoy the living daylights out of my 800+ twitter followers. However, since I don’t actually know any of them, I don’t let it bother me too much.
I checked out reddit and open salon after reading your post. I am clearly too socially inferior for open salon, and reddit chastised me for trying to shamelessly pimp my book on it. At least I have figured pinterest out!
If, like me, you have worked as a professor, check out goodreads if you haven’t already. It allows you to create and submit fun quizzes on your favorite books. I have found that to be comforting, reassuring ground,
Thanks, JoAnn, for the support and advice. It’s nice to find a kindred spirit in the SM realm.
Best,
Andrew