Antisocial Socials

 Dear Readers and Writers,

I have been quite busy and didn't go on my Threads for a long time. I didn't even look through the feed, simply dedicating the little spare time I have to other things (I have read some awesome books, though). In the last few weeks, I have been trying to return to Threads and give it another try, hoping that this time my enthusiasm would last a little longer.

However, I am unable to access the account. I keep getting locked out, sent back via Instagram, notified about unusual activity, prompted to change a password, over and over again. Threads won’t let me go in at all and Instagram only sends me through changes of passwords, retrieval of security code, then a new sign-in and a prompt to change password. Annoying. There has been no unusual activity, dear overlords of internet wisdom, because there has been no activity! Nothing. I am not dead, but I didn't need you - hard to believe, I know. Of course, one can’t contact anyone to ask and the so-called help pages are very unhelpful. Not even an annoying chatbot to vent to. Oh well.

Is it a sign? A message that I should give up on my futile attempts? I am very obviously unable to make friends in real or online life. I very clearly don't care – it doesn’t change my life at all. The only reason that I am trying to be active in the writing community is because I like it. This year, NaNoWriMo is closing down. Amazon is being boycotted, and, also, using our hard-worked-for manuscripts for AI learning (allegedly). I don't know any writers in real life. While I am now braver and might consider a writing group, I am also working and therefore don't have much time to dedicate to such an activity. What to do?

I won't stop writing. No way. But how do I show up my books and make them read by people unrelated to me? How do I sell books without a massive (I think I reached 35 followers after almost two years on Threads!) online following? Most readers of independent authors are other independent authors. I can’t find out about books from people I followed because I didn’t plan to leave, so I didn’t make a list. We all hope that what we have written will be talked about and that reviews and word of mouth will help us make it. Hard work. How can I participate when I’m not able to take part?

Some people are good at talking themselves up, connecting with others, having general chit-chat, and sending updates. I will probably never reach the state of online native. When I see something interesting, I don't have the impulse to snap and update. Phones annoy me. I don't have it on me all the time. Yes, I am weird, I know.

So, I may simply give up on trying and see what else I can do. Perhaps there are more of 'analogue' authors like me out there? Perhaps I will find my niche? Or, in one last push, I may try the last option: Bluesky. Threads worked out better and nicer than Twitter. Maybe the uphill trend will continue. Who knows, the participants there might tolerate quiet people better.

Wish me luck. I shall update my profiles for a new contact. Or print 1000 paperbacks and open a stall at the next church fair near you. No AI will find me there.

The Joy of Being Alone

I am haunted by the scene from the movie Maria, where Maria Callas – played by Angelina Jolie – walks near the Eiffel Tower and the crowd around her comes together and breaks into an aria from Verdi’s Il Trovatore. The whole movie was beautiful and sad, but this scene keeps coming back. A few days ago, I’d heard the aria again, in a different setting, and ever since then, I have an earworm. It could be worse, this one is at least very sophisticated.

Given that I’d more or less stopped listening to music and listen to spoken word radio all day every day, it is a little bit unusual to look up music on YouTube, search for CDs and print out lyrics. Instead of keeping with current music trends, I am going well back. At least I know that I don’t have a mid-life crisis, I guess. But I have an urge to learn the lyrics.

Going to the cinema the weekend before last had been a special occasion. It was my first solo trip in many years. I used to go regularly in my twenties. I wouldn’t think twice about it. Every week, I would look up the schedule, consult my shifts, and write down dates and times. I kept up with new movies and caught up on some good classics. It didn’t even occur to me that I was quite unusual in going alone. Instead, I always had a very good time. When I travelled a lot, catching up on movies was my favourite part of time between trips. I even wrote letters to magazines about movies, got a few ‘star letters’ prizes, and dreamt about being a film critic. I suppose that if it was happening now, I would have a movie-related blog, active login for IMDb, and my socials would be full of movie links.

When I’d moved in with my now husband, we went to the cinema together, but it wasn’t the same. I was working shifts and we lived far from the city, so, it was a major trip. Besides, our tastes were very different. I still remember our heated fights in Blockbusters on Friday evenings. When he made the choices, I had to watch some drivel. When I made the choice, I ended up watching alone – no problem for me. Eventually, I was again going to the cinema by myself, safe in the knowledge that it was better for the both of us, remembering the time, earlier on in our relationship, when he made a massive scene because I forced him to sit through a foreign language movie with subtitles that were not in English. I had asked him in advance, had given him the option to go and do his own thing, he had insisted on being an enlightened best boyfriend in the world, had sat through the movie (that I enjoyed) and then, on the way home, he had thrown a massive tantrum about my selfishness. How dare I not put him first? Considering the amount of time that I had stood around waiting for him, sat around waiting for him, and sat through dinners, parties, and occasions, I thought it was quite rich, but, of course, waiting for him was always okay... It is always about the man, isn’t it?

After the conundrum of low income, motherhood, pandemics, housewifing, and back-to-working, my only visits to the cinema were for family movies. And they were great. It was nice showing my child what an adventure a visit to the cinema is.

But now, with some freedom, transport, and income, I can once again go and see what I want when I can (when I want is probably no longer an option, but that’s fine). Seeing the trailer for Maria, I knew that it was meant to be seen on a big screen. And the showing times in the local cinema were good, I had a Saturday off, the family was sorted, so, I went out by myself. What a treat. We are always meant to be in a group or with a family, it is assumed that it means that we are having a good time. No advert promoting a leisure activity shows people on their own having the best time ever. But ask any mother and she will hopefully admit that having only yourself to look after and please is the real treat. Yes, sometimes it is having a bath and lying down with a good book, but, sometimes, taking yourself on a date with yourself is the best thing you can do.

I took the bus and looked at the familiar streets from a different angle. I brought a book to read. I bought a glass of wine in the bar. And I went to see the movie. The small room filled with women. No man was interested. There was definitely a vibe. Look at us, I thought, we do manage to treat ourselves sometimes.

The movie was beautiful. And sad. And, once again, it showed that men come into our lives and don’t make them better. Instead, we change, accommodate, and care. The movie reminded me that I used to like music. I will listen to it again. Perhaps I will dance again—when was the last time I danced? But, most definitely, I will take myself out on a movie date sometime soon. I think I have already picked up the next movie to see!