Why I choose not to create separate author accounts on social media

(Picture: This is me, circa 2020, hanging out with Ra, one of the shelter dogs at the place where I volunteer. He loved to cuddle and weighed about 90 pounds.)

I definitely understand why many authors choose to create separate profiles for their writerly selves on social media. For one, many authors write under pen names, so having only personal accounts wouldn’t make any sense–fans and readers couldn’t find them! Some writers have concerns about privacy for safety’s sake, or because their bosses wouldn’t be cool with what they publish. Another reason is that people share family pictures and other “close circle” content on their personal accounts, and to them it doesn’t feel appropriate to combine those with their posts about books and publications. Still another reason, related of course, has to do with “branding.” And for me, that word opens a can of worms.

My brand is me.

I understand branding and its necessity. I understand wanting to convey to readers what your “vibes” are–what you write, what you like, what your literary aesthetics are. But, several years ago I went through some workplace turbulence and, when things settled down, I realized I could no longer hide aspects of myself, or pretend to be what I’m not, for the sake of someone else’s idea of “professionalism.” Instead I opted for a sort of radical honesty when it came to my representation of self. No masks, no layers, no separation. People could take me for me or not take me at all.

And why can’t authenticity BE a brand, anyway? Why shouldn’t my students and coworkers and editors and readers and childhood friends and gardener friends and writer friends and dog-shelter-volunteer friends and family members get the same version of me?

It can; and, no reason.

It’s all in my writing, anyway.

My poetry collection, In Memory of Exoskeletons, is full of my thoughts and experiences–all very personal. There are poems about my grief over losing my mom as a kid, my own mental health struggles, my love for my husband, my feelings about the way society disregards “women’s work,” how much I love dogs, my garden, body dismorphia, and more.

My memoir and craft text, Creep This Way: How to Become a Horror Writer with 24 Tips to Get You Ghouling, rehashes all of my writerly attempts and failures over the course of the last, oh, twenty years. I admit there that a mean editor made me cry. I recount how terrified I was to go to my first StokerCon. My skeletons don’t live in my closet. They dance around the living room.

Any stranger who reads both of my books will pretty much know everything about me.

My friends are my readers.

Maybe I’ll make national book lists at some point in the future and people far and wide will get used to seeing my name on book covers. But, well, probably not and, even if so, that’s a way’s away. For now and maybe forever, the main readership of my books is made up of my friends and family. All those folks in my personal life. Like, my readers wouldn’t have to look up some interview if they had a question about my work. They could just, you know, text me.

I already can’t keep up with my accounts.

I tried TikTok and failed; deleted the app. I tried SnapChat, and same thing. I’m on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Threads. I have a hard enough time dealing with those–the only place I consistently hang out is Facebook, because that is where all of my work threads and friends threads exist. There’s no way I’m adding professional accounts to that list–it’s already too long.

So, if you want to make separate author or professional accounts, do it, especially if you have privacy or safety concerns. But it’s not mandatory!