Read on Twitter
To call for accountability, we have to be willing to hold ourselves accountable for missteps, too.
Last year a reader tweeted at me re: the appropriateness of a relationship in one of my books (a queer romance between characters that began when one was 17, the other 20). I QTed my response instead of replying, which brought unnecessary unnecessary antagonism into their feed.
The tweet required a nuanced answer, one that examined sexuality and power dynamics within both the queer community and royal structure (be it fantastical or historical), and no matter how I disagreed with the comment, QTing was entirely the wrong way to engage with the reader.
If I could go back, I would have tweeted directly (there’s still a chance that my fans would have found the tweet, but less than via QT). Though, honestly, if I could go back, I wouldn’t have answered at all.
It’s becoming harder and harder to balance my dedication to authentic interaction with the reality of my increasingy large platform. I receive more than 3,000 unique interactions every day, some kind, others not.
I don’t research every person I respond to. I know only the content of their tweet. And I’ve learned that if I don’t have the space or time or meaningful energy to engage in a meaningful and respectful manner, I shouldn’t engage at all.
That said, I have never gone searching for my name or my books. I have never sought out negative reviews for the express purpose of antagonising critics. People are welcome to talk about me and my books on the internet, and do.
I misused my platform that day. A year later, it still bothers me. I WANT to find ways to maintain authentic interaction with readers, even though doing so puts me in a position to make other mistakes. I try not to repeat them.
