
If the phrase “build your author platform” makes you want to crawl under your desk and never come out, you’re in good company. I’ve watched more than one deeply talented writer physically recoil at those words.
Writers often ask: Do I really have to be on social media?
In a word: yes. Even if you hate it.
And honestly? I get it. I really do.
Social media can feel performative, distracting, and weirdly exhausting, especially for those of us who prefer staring into the void of a first draft over recording ourselves lip-syncing about plot twists. Personally, I’d rather spend an hour reworking a messy scene than figuring out what to post on Instagram. But I’ve also come to accept this truth:
In today’s world, being visible matters.
And showing up online, on your own terms, can actually serve your writing life instead of draining it. The key phrase there is “on your own terms.”
The Goal Isn’t to Perform, It’s to Stay Awake
There’s a quote by Zadie Smith that I come back to often:
“The very reason I write is so that I might not sleepwalk through my entire life.”
For writers who feel overwhelmed by hashtags, reels, and algorithms, that’s a grounding reminder. The goal of having an online presence isn’t to chase trends or master the algorithm. The goal is to stay awake to your creative path and share it in a way that’s honest. To notice what you’re doing, what you’re making, and why it matters to you.
Social media can either support or sabotage that.
The key is finding a way to engage that feeds your writing life, instead of draining it. If it consistently leaves you depleted, something needs to change.
Why Social Media Matters (Even If You’re Not Published Yet)
Here’s the thing: we’re living in a digital age. A 2025 report from the Pew Research Center found that 84% of U.S. adults use YouTube and 71% use Facebook, and half report using Instagram.
And it’s not just “sometimes.” Many people are there every day: about half of U.S. adults visit YouTube or Facebook daily, and about a quarter use TikTok daily. For younger generations, the numbers are even higher, for example eight-in-ten adults ages 18 to 29 say they use Instagram.
That doesn’t mean you need to post every day or go viral. It does mean that having a presence, however small, can make you easier to find, especially when someone reads your work and wants to know more.
And that happens more than you think. Curiosity is a powerful thing.
A short story, a contest placement, a guest post, even a thoughtful comment on another writer’s page can spark curiosity. Readers often look authors up just to see:
Are you out there?
Are you still writing?
What else do you have to say?
A simple online presence, whether that’s an Instagram page, a Substack newsletter, or a basic website, gives them an answer. It says:
Yes. I’m here. I’m doing the work. I’m paying attention.
The Emotional Terrain of Social Media
Let’s be honest: social media isn’t neutral terrain. It’s full of potential triggers: comparison, perfectionism, imposter syndrome. All the things writers are already prone to.
It’s hard to post something raw when everyone else looks so polished.
We scroll through someone else’s highlight reel and forget that what we’re seeing is curated. Behind every “success” post is probably someone who’s rewritten their bio fifteen times and questioned their worth every step of the way.
But here’s the good news:
You don’t need to be polished. You just need to be real. If you’re familiar with Gary V., you’ve probably heard him say “document, don’t create.” This has been a guiding principle for me.
Some of the most resonant posts are simple, quiet check-ins:
“Writing was hard today, but I showed up.”
“Still revising, still confused, still in love with this story.”
A picture of a cluttered desk with a caption: This is what progress looks like today.
These posts aren’t about creating content. They simply document honesty.
Those posts remind us we’re not alone. And sometimes, the thing you’re tempted to hide might be the exact thing another writer or reader needs to see. Vulnerability, when it’s genuine, builds trust.
Pick One Platform and Start Small
You don’t have to be everywhere. Please don’t be everywhere. Fragmentation is exhausting, and it doesn’t help your work.
Choose one platform that feels the most manageable, or maybe even enjoyable. Start small. Let it be an experiment. You’re allowed to change your mind later.
Some simple tips to keep in mind:
Start slow. One post a week or even every other week is enough to start.
Keep it low-pressure. Share something small: a quote, a question, a moment from your writing life.
Lean into your strengths. If you love visual storytelling, try Instagram. If words are your thing, consider a newsletter or short blog posts.
Avoid the trap of performance. Your posts don’t need to be clever, beautiful, or even well-lit. They just need to be you.
The best match is a platform that feels like an extension of your creative voice, not something you have to perform for. If it feels like dress-up, it probably isn’t sustainable.
Talk About It
Remember: you can redefine your relationship with social media at any point.
You can take breaks. You can change platforms. You can step away and come back with new boundaries or a clearer voice. You’re not behind. You’re evolving.
Your writing life is allowed to change shape.
So here are a few reflection questions for wherever you are right now:
What has been your biggest challenge with social media as a writer?
Do you have a platform that feels like a natural fit for your voice?
How might you use social media in a way that supports your writing, instead of interrupting it?
Bonus prompt: What’s one thing you could share this week that feels true to your writing life, not performative, not polished, just real?
What’s one thing I can share this week that feels true to my writing life, not performative, not polished, just real?
My sister finished my first ever published book. She said she liked it. (I expected that. She’s my sister, after all.) Then she told me where she found a typo.
AURGH!
Somehow, “suffice it to say” came out “suffice it to day”! EEK!
sigh.
At the end of the day, I decided it at least proved I was human. Then I turned it into a fun (I hope!) newsletter post about how my sister is a super sleuth too! (My book is a cozy mystery.)
I probably could have mentioned that my stomach dropped and I almost threw up, but I decided to go with something less dramatic.