And what I've learned from the infamous.
Once upon a time, I was an avid poster on social media. I spent a lot of time reporting my word counts and posting photos of my workspace on Twitter and Instagram. And it worked pretty well for me ... in 2015.
And I used to post everywhere. I was on Tumblr, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. And the reason I did this was because I had different followers on each platform. I would hold conversations with people I have never met before -- other writers, fans of the same shows as I am, other college students, actual friends who live in different areas, etc. It was fun.
But typical of my personality, when I am under stress, I become reclusive. When I dropped off social media, it was because I needed to retreat and recover from ... life, I guess. For the past few years, I would try to make posting online work over and over again, and it's just not a rewarding experience. But then I hear people in different writing communities discuss the importance of building communities online -- I should join Discord, I should film more on TikTok, I should be on Facebook Groups, I should ask more questions to get people to engage with me, I should keep my DMs open -- but every suggestion falls flat.
It's me ... hi... I'm the problem, it's me.
I realize that I am less comfortable scrolling through my feeds and joining conversations with strangers, which is keeping me from building community. I get it.
Every once and a while I will get on a tear about how I miss old Twitter, old Instagram, old Tumblr, and other spaces online where I had once built community. Maybe I feel guilty for abandoning it, blaming myself for not putting in the work to keep my online communities alive. I am incredibly jealous of my writer friends who are capable of thriving in their online writing communities. At times it's akin to being a kid and not understanding why I was no good at sports, wondering why everyone else can hit a basket with a ball, a ball with a bat, or aren't the slowest person alive.
And then I will watch one of my true crime docs about catfishers, and -- in the most crass way -- think, "Wow. These are people who actually know how to use digital communities." This is not to defend catfishing in any way. It's not a victimless crime. I was watching Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara about the search for who is hacking Tegan and Sara, a band I absolutely love. In it, one of their online detractors (who they don't believe hacked them) defended their admitted actions of tearing the band down online and defaming them because "Who did I hurt?" and Tegan, who was on the call, had to affirm, "Me. You hurt me. I was hurt." Catfishers are often depicted as these sad, insecure people who don't know how to connect with people without lying and justify themselves as the people they catfish are not real. I've also been listening to a lot of content about Factitious Disorder, Factitious Disorder imposed upon a person, as well as Munchausen, and Munchausen by proxy. So much of these fabulist disorders are fueled by maintaining certain online presences in order to maintain the attention of others.
I am alert to the attention economy and the fact that without people looking my way, I cannot build an audience of people who would enjoy my stories, I feel like I am looking for any and all advice on making that happen. And I guess that has also sent me down some dark roads.
Here is what I have learned about posting online by watching catfishing documentaries.
Never be yourself. Fake name, fake account, fake personality. The lines between the online me and the in-real-life me would never get cloudy if the online me was actually someone completely different. Some catfishers will justify their behavior by saying they are like an actor taking on a role. However, the person on the other end doesn't know it's just a performance.
Post all the time. Start the morning with a "Hello World!" post and then just live on the phone or the laptop all day. Add emojis to every post in my feed. Benign comments on every photo. I don't have to worry about not having anything interesting to post, because if it's all fake. I can make up any story that I want.
Make sure I have lots of "friends" even if those are also fake accounts that I created. Imagine how much my follower count would grow if fake me had other fake me's in this odd multiple-personality online tea party full of people telling me how great I am. Would I need to have one that tore me down a little just to keep it balanced? And then have another fake account stick up for me? Imagine the fake drama I could build!
Never video chat. Always have an excuse as to why I cannot be seen on a screen or have anyone meet me in real life. I can't imagine it's easy to go live when none of my fake accounts could add little hearts or post comments. Also, even with the best filters and lighting could I ever hide that I am not a svelte supermodel who just happens to have taken professional photos of myself in lingerie or with the illusion of nudity -- which almost all of the catfishers use.
When people start to suspect that I am faking everything, have one of my fake accounts announce that I have died. Then my fake accounts can speculate whether the news is real.
If you think I am exaggerating, check out the documentaries The Girlfriend Who Was Never There, The Tinder Swindler, The Hollywood Con Queen, Can You Keep a Secret, Web of Lies, Catfish -- both the movie and the series, and the podcast, I'm Not Nicholas.
I think with catfishing cases, the viewer might have a sense from of who has the time? It's a full-time job maintaining a fake personality. It requires organization, strategic thinking, and the ability to improv. Also, posting often is often time-consuming. And while many might get hung up wondering what motivates someone into this type of criminality, I don't. It almost always comes down to control, insecurity, and, often, an attempt to steal money. I think most of these documentaries impose a tone of pathetic to one who would make up stories and lure people into believing them. Often the people who are duped are depicted as naive, desperate, unintelligent, and greedy. Which isn't fair. One cannot live in a space where they assume that everyone is lying to them, just like one cannot live in a space where they assume no one is lying to them. It seems like the victims are often people who are searching and open to an experience -- searching for love, searching for opportunities, or searching for friendships.
What's so interesting to me about all this, is I could never really commit to the catfish because -- in addition to the time commitment, my incapacity to maintain a fake personality, and the ickiness I would feel leading a person on -- I actually like meeting people in real life. I will admit that I'm an introvert which means I must clock a certain number of hours alone in order to recharge. But I have also learned that being face-to-face with people is an effective way for me to connect. I've been doing more public events and talking to people about the things I write has been far more effective than posting online.
I like to teach. I like to work a booth at a book fair. I like talking to people about writing. I like encouraging them and swapping ideas. But I like to do that in real life instead of virtual spaces. I'm sure online people would tell me that I'd love their Facebook group or their Discord group. I just feels like I am less and less confident that the person I am chatting with online is a real person looking to talk to me and not try to lure me into their cult, their MLM, their $1,000 Mastermind group, or other bait and switch groups that troll for people seeking community.
If like me, you are also curious about liars, check out the documentaries I posted above or my short essay, "In the Company of Liars" in the www.brandibradley.com store. Also, coming soon, a short story about an online scheme called, "The Disappearing Family".
Note: people can message me on most social media (I don't do Facebook, sorry) or email me at brandi@brandibradley.com. I might not respond immediately, but I try to respond to any messages or comments that are sent my way. I am especially open to suggestions for books, documentaries, conversations about Gilmore Girls or Pretty Little Liars, and country songs about messy women.
Read Books. Wear Boots.
XOXO,
B.
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