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galli-writes · 6 years ago

Text

Anything at All

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

(Click here to listen to the podfic!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! I have returned after 5 months to finish what I've started because I love this fic too much to abandon it. Expect updates to be much more regular. And this time I mean it!

Chapter 3: The Letter ( words: 4,711 )

4:23 a.m.

The red numbers on his alarm clock seemed to stare back at Beast Boy with an unflinching glare. Like an animal that mocked him simply by existing. Beyond the window, a yellow glow seeped through the tightly drawn blinds.With a grunt, he rubbed his eyes and flipped over face first onto his pillow. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness hours ago.

By all accounts, he was exhausted . Every muscle in his body ached. His head continued to pound like a battering ram against a stone wall hours after the fight was over. The only thing worse than being electrocuted (three times) was the grueling pain the shocks had left in their wake. By now, he’d lost count of how much Advil he’d taken. It was probably safe to say ‘too much’.

But the burning in his muscles and the city lights creeping in through his window weren’t what kept him awake. Not really.

The problem was that, every time he did skirt the edge of sleep, it started all over again.

Goosebumps prickled on his arms at the mere thought of it. The cold tile on his skin. The muffled voices of his friends in the distance, even more distorted in his memory. When he closed his eyes, he saw the same darkness he’d retreated to only hours before. Even now he found himself instinctively holding his breath.

The culprits had escaped, and he knew it had been (at least partially) his fault. He was sure Robin was disappointed in him. Maybe even annoyed. But that hadn’t been his biggest mistake of the night. Not by a long shot.

Beast Boy flipped over again, unable to lie still as the scene played before him. He shut his eyes tighter, rubbing his hands over his face. But the increasing darkness only made things more real. Even lying completely still, he easily felt the ghostly traces of someone’s fingers on his neck. He threw the sheets back from around his face. They suddenly felt like spiders crawling all over him.

But above all, he couldn’t tune out her voice, echoing in his ears.

‘ Not everything is a joke. And one day you’re gonna learn that the hard way. ’

Beast Boy flinched. He rolled over. Pulled the sheets up again, and turned the clock the other direction. But it was no use.

He bit his lip, staring at the ceiling.

He didn’t think everything was a joke. Of course he didn’t.

He just acted like it sometimes.

He bit his lip harder, exhaling a deep, wavering sigh.

Was there a difference?

Flooded with shame, he tried his best to disappear. And somehow, pulling the sheets up all the way over his head was oddly convincing. He closed his eyes once more, now that he felt he’d finally escaped from the reality of what he’d done--if only for the night. Under the sheets it was warm and stuffy--just enough so to lull him into a still, dreamless sleep.

***

“Rise and shine!”

Cyborg’s voice echoed under the metal door, traveling in waves.

Beast Boy’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright in bed. At the other end of the room, a bright white light glowed behind the blackout curtains.

“It’s waffle time, baby!” The voice rang out again, this time bouncing off the walls as it carried toward the kitchen.

Beast Boy rubbed his eyes, still finding it difficult to open them completely. When he finally did, he saw that the clock read 10:34 a.m.

With a groan, he ran his hands over his face once more. The inside of his head spun like a broken rattle, clamoring with leftover thoughts and emotions he couldn’t parse out. All in all, he felt regrettably similar to the fateful morning he’d discovered he was the definition of a lightweight.

With all of the energy he could muster, he rolled out of bed and rummaged the floor to find a stray T-shirt to throw on. As he pulled the shirt over his head however, one of the puzzle pieces unveiled itself. His arm ached. Bad . And then he remembered why.

The door clicked open as he exited his room, eyes barely open. A hand instinctively flew to his face to shield his eyes from the piercing light that flooded in through the main window down the hall. He trudged into the kitchen, each step more taxing than the last. When he finally made it to the threshold, he caught a glimpse of a bedheaded Robin manning the waffle iron and Cyborg pouring himself a glass of orange juice. At the far end of the room, in her usual spot, Raven sat reading a book, a cup of tea hovering beside her. The sight of her made him flinch for a moment, as images of last night came rushing back to him. He tried, and failed, to ignore them.

The only person missing from the room was Starfire. Beast Boy blinked hard, rubbing his temple at the realization. Starfire missing on a Sunday morning could only mean one thing.

“ALLRRRRRIIIGHT,” Cyborg bellowed, setting his glass down on the coffee table with an enthusiastic thud. In his other hand, he waved around a few sheets of paper. “Who’s ready to DUNGEON SOME DRAGONS?” he hollered, like he was orchestrating a high school pep rally. When no one responded, he looked over expectantly at Raven.

“Uh...go team?” she said, in an equally unenthusiastic tone.

“Okay, I know you’re into this shit deep Rae, don’t even try it,” he said with a half smile. “The rest of y’all better’ve actually updated your character sheets this time,” he said with a smirk, now looking at Beast Boy.

Beast Boy froze, a lump in his throat. Not because of Cyborg’s joking glare, but because he locked eyes with Raven, who had also now turned to look at him. There wasn’t anything particularly threatening about her gaze in that moment, but Beast Boy still found it hard to meet.

“I, uh...,” he squirmed, trying very hard to look at Cyborg and only Cyborg as he said it. When that didn’t work he just stared at the ground. “I--I’ll be right back.” With a sheepish grin, he spun on his heels and retreated directly back the way he’d come.

With the door to his room shut firmly behind him, Beast Boy closed his eyes, hoping it would keep the room from spinning any more than it already was. But he was starting to think that the sleep deprivation wasn’t the only reason he suddenly felt nauseous. He peeled himself off the back of the door and slunk into the chair at his desk, shaking his head. He just needed to set his mind straight.

Red and green lights flashed in the cracks between his fingers as he booted up his computer, and the whirl of a fan began to take up some of the deafening silence. When the lights were replaced with a single steady glow he opened his eyes fully, fought the urge to slap himself, and opened several documents on the desktop.

First he scanned over his character sheet, updating the stats he already knew how to calculate. His current character was a half-elf bard named Tangus. You could have snapped him like a toothpick, but the guy was oozing with charisma, and as far as Beast Boy was concerned, that was what really mattered.The best kind of characters were the ones who could talk their way into or out of anything. Characters that were smooth and funny--charming, romantic, and likable. Characters who always knew just what to say.

He paused, then frowned at the thought. Maybe he was compensating for something.

Shaking his head, Beast Boy turned to one of the many other windows he’d pulled up--a spell database he referred to often. He was busy mulling around the idea of picking up another healing spell when he was suddenly interrupted by the chime of a notification from his computer.

He figured it had to be one of his friends yelling at him to hurry up. But when he searched around for the origin of sound, he found no new messages on discord or any of the other messaging apps he frequented. What he did find, buried under three layers of abandoned tabs was a sign of life radiating from his Facebook notification bar. Beast Boy narrowed his eyes at it. Facebook was buried that far back for a reason. After all, it was more of a publicity page than anything else. He didn’t have much of an alter ego, so keeping up a personal one was kind of a moot point.

He had two new friend requests.

One of them he recognized right away. It was the friend request he’d gotten from Cold Stone two months prior that he’d never accepted just on principle. He sighed, almost a little disappointed.

But the second one--the more recent one-- did catch his eye.

It also looked very much like spam. The man in the profile picture looked a little too well put together. Almost like a stock photo. He had olive skin and dark hair that was slicked back cinematically. He brandished a full, welcoming smile. Like a dentist trying to promote himself and advertise his services at the same time.

Next to it Beast Boy read the name ‘Nicholas Galtry’.

He sat back in his chair.

For a reason he couldn’t place, the name felt...familiar. As if he’d encountered it once in a dream or in a movie he’d watched a long time ago.

He looked closer, clicking on the picture. Whoever it was, they had no mutual friends between them, and when he tried to investigate the man’s profile further, he only found one more hazy picture very similar to the first.

Once more, Beast Boy leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen. A weird friend request wasn’t really that much to worry about—usually. But something about the man’s face sat wrong with Beast Boy.

“Beast Boy? You ready?” Robin’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Uh...Yeah, coming!” he yelled back, quickly closing the tab and toggling back to his character sheet and clicking print. He swiped the papers out of the printer and ran back down the hallway into the main room.

Everyone was sitting in their claimed spots around the table—again, everyone except Starfire. Robin was just now making his way to the table with some pancakes. From the couch, Raven watched intently as Cyborg focused every ounce of his attention on the dice tower he was building.

No later than the second it came crashing down, Starfire burst into the room.

“Hello, friends!” she exclaimed, flying over to her spot at the head of the table. “I’m sorry I am late. But during my preparations for our game of dragons in dungeons I encountered the most interesting of objects.”

Everyone turned their attention to her--even Beast Boy, who hadn’t yet made it to the other side of the room. It was hard to not stop and stare at the thick ivory envelope she brandished above her head. In the center of it was a bright red wax stamp, like something plucked from a period drama.

“What is it?” Robin and Cyborg said in unison.

Starfire lowered the envelope and looked down at it, confusion in her face. “I am not sure. While I was taking the silkie out for a walk this morning, I noticed someone approaching our neglected box of postage,” she continued. “The stranger left it within and quickly vanished.”

Robin pouted, extending out a hand. “Mind if I take a look?”

With a nod, Starfire handed it over to him.

He studied it for a moment, looking the envelope over back to front. Then he merely shrugged, handing it back to her. “I dunno. Looks like they probably had the wrong address.”

“We live in a giant T,” Cyborg said. “How do you mess something like that up?”

“Cyborg makes the good point,” Starfire said, taking the envelope back and holding it up to the light. She squinted at it as if doing so might reveal its true purpose. “I do not recognize any of these names. If they are names.” She squinted even harder.

“Lemme see that,” Cyborg said, extending out a hand. After reading the front of the envelope for himself, his face morphed from confusion to pure amusement. “Damn,” he laughed under his breath. “I feel bad for whoever this was supposed to go to. What a fucking name,” he said, handing the letter to Raven as it naturally began to make its rounds.

Once in her possession, Raven flipped the letter over in her hand, running her finger over the intricate seal on the back. She stared at it for a moment, eyes narrowed. Though that didn’t betray much, considering that her default expression always lingered somewhere between disinterest and disapproval.

Beast Boy found that in those few short moments he had inched his way decidedly into the room, as if drawn in by a magnetic force. He didn’t even realize that he had crept up behind her and had started to even lean forward to try and catch a glimpse over her shoulder until, as if on cue, she yanked it away and held it just out of his reach.

“Hey, lemme--” Beast Boy began to protest.

Raven narrowed her eyes again without saying anything, looking down at the envelope again.

A sly smile crept onto Beast Boy’s face. For a moment, he forgot why he had ever been so hesitant to enter the room. The scene felt so familiar.

In the span of a second, the letter was in his talons, Raven muttering a curse under her breath. When his feet hit the kitchen floor, Beast Boy had to stifle a snicker. He turned just in time to catch Raven shooting him her middle finger. And oddly enough, he breathed a sigh of relief at the gesture.

The relief didn’t last long.

The moment Beast Boy flipped the letter over to its front, he froze. His eyes scanned over it a second time--a third and fourth. But the words on the front didn’t change. His heart rate did.

“You okay, man?” Cyborg called to him over his shoulder, surrounded by the curious gaze of the rest of his friends.

Beast Boy quickly whipped around, dropping the letter in front of him and hastily picking it back up, pressing it to his chest. “Fine! I’m...fine.”

Starfire gaped. “Do you perhaps know who it is for?”

“No--I...I just--” He stammered. But before he knew it, Starfire was hovering over him, eyes transfixed on the envelope.

“I must ask,” she continued, completely disregarding his answer. “What is a ‘Gar’, and what may be the purpose of cultivating them in a field?”

“It’s just a name, Star,” Robin interjected.

“A terrible one,” Raven said, to no one in particular.

But to Beast Boy, the statement had felt unnervingly personal.

“Gar...field?” Starfire repeated again, testing the two sounds together as one.

Beast Boy stood silent, hoping his silence would go unnoticed.

It didn’t.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cyborg asked again, leaning over and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a...moment,” Beast Boy said, forcing a laugh. Doing so made his stomach turn. “Guess my brain tripped the off switch for a sec,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll just drop it in the junk drawer for now,” Robin said, waving his hand dismissively and beckoning the two back over to the table.

“Yeah...” Beast Boy said again, placing the letter face down in the top drawer and sliding it firmly shut.

***

As much as Beast Boy had hoped it would, the pit in his stomach didn’t go away.

During training that afternoon, he had literally transformed into a fish out of water...twice. After lunch, he had consistently lost to Cyborg and Robin in Mario Kart, Smash, and every other game on the shelf. His two friends had even managed to bully Raven into playing, and losing to the worst player in the household (twice) had ultimately sealed his fate. In frustration, he’d resorted to watching the third season of The Office for the seventh time from the safety of his room. When that didn’t work, he switched to Vines. So many Vines. Too many Vines. And yet somehow not enough. Later that night, as he’d shuffled some tofu in a pan on the stove, he caught himself glancing over at the corner drawer every few minutes. Unable to shake the feeling of thick cardstock in this hand, he mindlessly dumped a fistful of soaking wet soy squares into the pan before him, showering himself with droplets of hot oil.

As he yelled out in surprise, there was a laugh from the other end of the room as Cyborg made a joke about the bathroom mirror Beast Boy had clumsily knocked over a few days ago.

“Seven years is a long time, man,” Cyborg laughed.

Beast Boy frowned. For once, he would have gladly attributed today’s mishaps to something as simple as bad luck.

In the darkness, the thoughts only got worse. Now that he’d had ample time to ruminate on who the letter had been addressed to, he shifted his focus to what the letter itself could actually have to say. Every thought that passed through his mind made him shiver, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight it. So he kept them all in equal circulation with a sort of morbid, torturing fixation.

Finally, he leaned over and grabbed the clock off his nightstand.

3:23 am.

He shoved it back into place and stared at the blank ceiling above him. Then he kicked off the covers and got out of bed.

Opening the huge metal door to his bedroom silently was virtually impossible, but Beast Boy managed to get through with just one shrill squeak. Before him, the hallway was completely dark and still. He pulled out his phone and switched on the flashlight, carefully navigating the short walk to the kitchen. In the main living area moonlight illuminated the hollow room with a lifeless glow.

Pausing between every step, Beast Boy made his way over to the fateful drawer and reached out a hand to open it. He bit his lip as he weighed the pros and cons of what he was about to do. A small voice in the back of his head screamed out, telling him to go back while he still could. This voice of course didn’t have any more of an idea of what the envelope contained than he did. But it at least had the sense to know that opening anything address to...well, Garfield...was asking for trouble.

But while his mind hadn’t yet finished arguing with itself, his body had already made up its mind. One minute his hand was on the drawer handle and the next it wasn’t. One minute his hand had been empty. The next, he found himself rubbing his thumb against the wax seal over and over, as if to test its reality.

He took a deep break and closed his eyes. This time he moved his thumb under the seal instead of over it, the sound of paper ripping ever so gently under...

“Beast Boy!”

Beast Boy’s gaze shot up as he instinctively clenched the letter tighter. Two glowing green eyes met his own from the other side of the room. He froze instantly.

The shadowy figure blinked several times before, with a short gust of wind, it came to a dramatic halt a foot from his face. Decked out in a robe, face smeared with some sort of expensive looking cream, and her hair tied up in a messy bun, Starfire stared down at him disapprovingly

“I was--I’m just--” Beast Boy fumbled.

“Just what?” She whisper-screamed, yanking the envelope out of his hand and wagging it around in the air. “Opening the mail that is not belonging to you is illegal!”

Beast Boy threw his hands in the air and took a step back. “I know, I know. I’m...sorry.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Starfire said, shaking her head.

“Sorry...I just...I didn’t think anyone else was awake,” Beast Boy replied, realizing that the response didn’t exactly prove him any more innocent. He looked Starfire up and down again, trying to gauge how likely it was that she would tell Robin about this. But it was hard to take the disappointment in her face seriously behind all of the beauty products and the towel wrapped around her head. “What are you doing in the kitchen at 3:30 in the morning anyway?” he asked in a desperate attempt to change the conversation.

“I am here to obtain a smoothie before I partake in my morning routine of the blogilates,” Starfire said, arms crossed. She shot him a suspicious look—like the kind that seemed permanently glued to Raven’s face—but it was too comical to take seriously. “I would ask you the same question, but it would seem you have already demonstrated the answer.”

Beast Boy sighed and looked at the floor. He couldn’t meet Starfire’s eyes. “Sorry. I know this looks bad. I just...I really didn’t wanna have to…”

“Have to what?” Starfire questioned.

Beast Boy hesitated. He took a deep breath and managed to get it out in one sentence. “I didn’t wanna have to tell anyone.” He quickly shot her a knowing look, then glanced back off to the side again.

Starfire was silent for a moment.

Even though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, Beast Boy knew she was staring at him. After a moment her shoulders fell slack. Her jaw dropped, both hands flying to her mouth. She lowered them slowly just enough to speak and, after a minute, whispered, “Do not tell me... you are the Gar of Fields?”

An embarrassed half-smile crept onto Beast Boy’s face. “Kind of. I mean...I guess I am...or was. At least at one point in my life.”

There was a pause. And then Starfire’s expression did a complete 180. She gasped again, but this time with pure amazement--and Beast Boy wasn’t sure he liked this reaction any better.

“Oh, wonderful!” Starfire beamed, her eyes aglow in an entirely different light.

“It...is?” Beast Boy said, feeling a pit forming in his stomach again.

“Of course!” Starfire continued. “It must be that someone from your past is trying to contact you and inquire as to your well being,” she mused, a finger at her lips. “Perhaps it is a relative who wishes to hear of all of your daring heroic exploits? Or a childhood friend who has searched far and wide for you so that they may disclose their true feelings for you! Or a long lost sibling who yearns to be reunited with the brother they’ve never known?”

“Uh...I don’t know about all that,” Beast Boy said uneasily, still reeling from the emotional whiplash of their short conversation.

“Nonsense,” Starfire said, her voice growing more and more above a whisper with every word. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and began to pull. “Come! We must rouse everyone and tell them of the news!”

“Star, no, hold up a sec,” Beast Boy said, grabbing at his wrist, heels dug into the floor. “You don’t understand. You can’t tell anyone .”

Starfire came to an abrupt halt. She released his arm from her grip, and turned to look at Beast Boy, her brow now wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, glancing at the envelope in her hand once more. Beast Boy had never been a very good liar. And even if he were, it was impossible to lie to Starfire. So instead, he took a deep breath and told the truth without telling all of it. “Because… it’s embarrassing and weird,” he said. “I never really liked it.” At these words, his mind immediately jumped to the next logical thought. “Besides, if Raven or Cyborg ever found out they’d never let me live it down.”

“Hmmm,” Starfire hummed, tapping a finger on her cheek again. “Perhaps. But I still think it is a most interesting name and not embarrassing at all,” she smiled. “We already have two friends named after birds. Raven being one of them. My own name might even be considered strange. Raven has already observed that it somewhat resembles that of the equestrian cartoon characters she denies her admiration for.”

“Well, I guess the association with mine isn’t much better,” Beast Boy said, still anxious, but slightly relieved by the amusing predictability of his friend.

“What do you mean?” Starfire asked, puzzled.

“Well...Garfield isn’t really a popular name. The only thing people probably think of when they think of ‘Garfield’ is Garfield the cat. He’s like...a comic strip character or whatever.”

Starfire’s eyes lit up—literally.

“You share the name of a famous fictional feline?!” She exclaimed. “Oh, that is even better than the horses! I do not know how that could possibly be viewed as a negative. ”

Beast Boy didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the letter in Starfire’s hand.

With a sigh and a smile, Starfire gently placed a hand on his shoulder, handing him the letter. “Have not the worry, friend. I will keep it the most deepest of secrets if that is what you wish,” she said solemnly.

Beast Boy sighed and looked up at her. “Thanks, Star.”

Starfire stood there only a moment more before she quickly grabbed two granola bars off the counter and turned to make her exit. “Well, I’ll leave you alone then,” she smiled. “I do not wish to intrude upon your communications via the mail of snail.”

Beast Boy managed a weak half-smile back which she matched just before she turned to grab a protein shake and head down the hallway.

Once Starfire was out of sight and well on her way to her destination, Beast Boy made a beeline back to his own room, letter in hand. Just as carefully as he had made his initial exit, he closed the door behind him with only the smallest of screeches. Although he felt a bit silly doing so, he locked the door behind him for good measure.

He turned on the small lamp next to his bed and, very aware of how out of it he was, plopped down on the center of the mattress. The lamp illuminated a few lines of elegant cursive lettering adorning the front of the envelope, the individual letters shining with a subtle reflective glint.

‘Garfield Mark Logan ’

He flipped the envelope over and after a moment of hesitation, ripped the wax seal off as fast as he could, like a band aid. The thick paper inside was folded with geometric precision, and unfurled itself in an almost mechanical fashion. The script inside was written just as carefully—by hand he could tell. With a deep breath, he tried to relax as best he could, and he began to read:

Dear Garfield,

I know that the arrival of this letter must be wholly unexpected and draw many questions to your mind. You likely do not remember me, as we were only acquainted for a short time when you were very young. Ideally, the information I hope to relay to you now would have been communicated some 3 years ago, on the advent of your eighteenth birthday. However, I will admit that it took longer than anticipated to contact you.

Though I may be a stranger to you, I am not so to the Logan family. And I feel that it is time you were made aware of several family matters which presently concern you. I know that the loss of your parents resulted in the loss of the remainder of your blood relatives. But I hope that you may entertain the idea that family runs deeper than blood. I wish you all the best and look forward to seeing you very soon.

Sincerely,

your friend,

Dr. Nicholas Galtry

#teen titans #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy #raven #dc

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morganhazelwood · 7 years ago

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A Starter’s Guide For Fiction Writers Trying To “Establish A Social Media Presence” Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3: Short-Form Social Media and Hashtags

Two weeks ago, I shared my descent into social media and my guiding philosophies for interacting with others on the internet. Last week, I discussed the generals about creating a website and starting your own blog.

Now? Let's talk about the rest of the social mediums.

https://youtu.be/KMcXYO9nMYU

ALL OF THEM. Or maybe I'll hit 2000 words before I've finished with Facebook, and Twitter, and Hashtags, oh my!... Looks like there's gonna be a Part 4 after all.

Facebook

The granddaddy of all social media these days. With 'friends', 'followers', and everything in between.

What is Facebook

In case you've been living under a rock: For Facebook, you sign up, and your "profile page" shows all your "posts"-- anything you want to share from 1 liners to links, to long-form notes. You 'friend' people and they friend you back. Your 'feed' consists of what you and your friends post. It's often sorted by 'Top Stories' - i.e. things that others have been commenting or 'liking' (hitting the thumbs up button on) a lot.

But, you can switch it to show the feed in chronological order as well.

Groups and Privacy

There are privacy settings of 'public', 'friends only', and you can create your own custom lists, or share in groups. Groups are facebook pages with members and their own privacy settings. You can search for groups based on your interests, or just wait for people to invite you. If the group is private, the posts can't be shared externally, and can't be seen by other people. This doesn't mean people can't screenshot them, though. So be considerate of what you post. Your Facebook page is where you can announce things to everyone you've ever known and their 2nd cousins. (Unless they're under 13.)

One Thing. Teens are catching on about that whole object permanence thing. They're moving off Facebook, to places their parents don't supervise. To places where the message is erased right after they send it.

How to use Facebook and Improve Your Visibility

Personally? Most of my followers, writing groups, and blog share hits come from Facebook. Despite the teen-flee, it's still super useful and a great way to connect.

However, if people don't interact with you, Facebook will stop showing them your posts. Especially blog links or Patreons, assuming they're all spam.

So how do you make Facebook show your friends and followers your posts?

Don't just talk about your writing! Post things from your life, upload pictures, share memes (stock images, with quippy text).

If you have pets? The internet is 50% cat pictures and videos and people still love them.

You can share personal information without sharing private information. You'll see me talking about my life and interactions, but only rarely do I discuss details or name names.

Facebook Pages?

These are sort of like a Group but typically owned by one person or a business. They're for professional use only. If you're an author, it's reasonable to establish one. But, don't count on anything here being seen unless you have a large group of active followers, or you pony up some cash. They have the lowest priority in Facebook feed because Facebook wants to earn some money off you. Another way to get seen more is to post videos or pictures. Facebook prioritizes these. Especially facebook videos, but I'm not quite ready for live-streaming...

Twitter

This one can be very polarizing. Some people love it, some people hate it. A lot of it is in how you use it and what sections of twitter you hang out in. This is one I'd REALLY advise caution when wading into socio-political issues.

What is Twitter

Here, you chose a username, add a brief description, then share text or images, up to 280 characters long (it used to be 140 characters). Remember to think about brand consistency. You can change your profile name, but the username, i.e. the '@whatever' part will stay the same FOREVER.

How To Use Twitter

There are no 'groups', per se. And everything is shown on your feed chronologically. Which means, after you've followed a couple handfuls of people, it can be hard to keep up.

I like to create lists. Mostly based on why I followed them (agents/publishers), or where I know them from (Writer support group A or Support Group B). That way, when I see a comment in my feed, I can associate it with the right people.

I have to admit, unless your profile picture is of you, or your name is in your username? I have a hard time keeping track of who is who on twitter. And... I kinda don't even try.

If you like a post, you can 'heart' it.

It's perfectly reasonable to respond to a tweet directed at you with a GIF--and Twitter has the GIF library to support it (before facebook!)

If you want to share a post, so your followers can see it - it bumps it in THEIR follower’s feed so they have a better chance of seeing it. You can either 'Retweet' or 'Quote Retweet'. Quote retweet lets you add your own comment to the reshared tweet, and means they won’t get notifications for everyone who comments on it. You can @mention someone in your tweet, so it shows up on their notifications. Just type @[their username] and they'll be notified.

Confession?

I spend a lot more time tweeting and looking at my notifications than I do looking at my main twitter feed. When I do want to see what my friends are saying, I'll go to specific lists and look. The rest of the tweets? I only see what Twitter suggests as "your friends are liking this post" or "did you miss this" from people I interact with a lot.

Why Writers Should Consider Twitter

Twitter offers a lot of opportunities:

A writing community

Make sure you look at the 'Latest Tweets', not the 'Top Tweets' tab that's the default, or you may be seeing posts that are months old

Twitter Pitch Contests:

Essentially, boil your Manuscript's pitch down to about 240 characters, add the relevant hashtags

The contest name: #pitchWhatever

Your manuscript's genre: #f (fantasy) #r (romance), #litfic (literary fiction), etc

Twitter Contests:

Some are for Mentors:

#AMM - Author Mentor Match

#PitchWars

Some are for Query critiques

#sunVsSnow

Some are for first page/chapter reviews

Many agents and Editors are active on Twitter.

#MSWL (Manuscript wish list) can help you find agents who are looking for your manuscript.

Looking at their feed can give you a good feel for their personality, and if they're a good fit.

WARNING: Do NOT go back 5 years worth of tweets, gleaning for every crumb you can, liking all their posts. That's creepy. Just look a couple weeks back, or look at a specific tag.

Hashtags

I just referenced a lot of hashtags, but they require their own discussion.

Twitter is one of those places where hashtags are important.

Hashtags often give context to a post. But also, they can be ways of finding related discussions, or groups. And are useful for searching a person's posts, for a specific topic.

Just because you're a member of a group, doesn't mean all of your tweets are related to that topic. But if you hashtag it with the group's hashtag, everyone can find it.

NOTE: DO NOT MISUSE HASHTAGS You will annoy people, or get remembered...for the wrong reasons. People use hashtags to find related posts and if you use them improperly, the search will be cluttered with off-topic posts.

Hashtag Do's

DO participate in Twitter Pitch Events such as: #PitchSlam, #pg70pit, #pitmad, #SFFPit, #PBPitch, #FaithPitch, and #IWSGPit

An agent "like" on a twitter pitch during these contests is ONLY a request for a query. Add the contest hashtag to the subject line of your query and submit as normal, unless the agent has previously tweeted that you should do otherwise.

DO read the #MSWL (Manuscript Wish List) tag is for agents (and Editors of publishing houses) to share what they're looking for.

If they're looking for something that's a VERY CLOSE fit to the manuscript you're actively ready to query, go to their agency website and submit while adding a reference to the #MSWL item to your query.

DO join in on weekly hashtags like:

#1linewed - there's a theme each week, search to find it

#WIPjoy - Work In Progress joy - a line that makes you happy that you recently wrote

#FF - follow Fridays, where you tag friends or writers you'd recommend others follow

#mondayBlogs

DO use hashtags like #askagent to communicate with agents

DO use hashtags like #amwriting, #amediting, #writersLife, #writeTips, #writingTips, #5amwritersClub, #9pmwritersClub, and #nanowrimo to connect with other writers!

Things To Avoid

DO NOT pitch directly to agents. Outside of twitter pitch contests, Twitter is NOT for pitching.

DO NOT ask an agent if they like the sound of your novel.

DO NOT DM (direct message) them.

DO NOT stalk and act like you're suddenly besties.

DO NOT tweet on #10queries, #tenqueries, #MSWL, etc. These are for AGENTS and Editors of Publishing companies

DO NOT flood weekly hashtags with a stack of tweets.

DO NOT use #askAgent for anything google can tell you in 2 minutes

Don't ask what genres they represent, take 2 minutes to look at their literary agency website.

When you go to add a hashtag, on the app (unfortunately, not on the computer), it'll show you the hashtag's frequency. It can be 250 tweets in the last hour, or day, or ever.

The more popular a hashtag is the more people who might see your tweet.

Or, it might get lost in the crowd.

If enough people like or retweet your tweet, your visibility will skyrocket. If not, it can sit there in obscurity.

The #trending tab can show you what a lot of people are actively talking about

Personally? I like to go for regularly used hashtags, that aren't currently over-saturated.

But the funny thing about social media? You can get insta-famous for something you tweeted 3 years ago if it goes viral.

How to Get Followers

Check out posters on hashtags you like.

Follow them.

It's as easy as that.

Many people auto-follow-back anyone who follows them.

If you get added to someone else's list, and you like the company you're in? Click on the list, find the 'view members' option from the menu tab (the 3 horizontal lines), and then click 'follow' on all of them.

Interact with your followers.

Twitter loves GIFs and has a button and a library to add them to tweets. (I like to caption stuff so people who can't see the image know what's going on) And they did the GIF thing LONG before Facebook did.

DO NOT be the person who Direct Messages everyone who follows you, many of us hate that and want to unfollow people who do that.

When people follow me, I like to vet them. I don't like people who are all advertisements or click-bait for 2 full screens. I'm picky if I don't see an original tweet from them for 2 full screens, or if their profile picture is empty and they seem to be adding only pretty girls, I back away slowly and pretend I was never there.

Although, if someone DMs me their website or whatever after I follow them? I've started sending mine back at them.

Tip: If you're curious when someone followed you, your followers' list is in order from most-recently-followed down to your first follower.

WARNING: Some people will go around following tons of people and, after they follow back, unfriend them!

ANOTHER WARNING: You can only follow a certain number of people a day, and you can't follow significantly more people than people who follow you. The limit goes up as your follower list goes up. But, I think it maxes at 250 people in a sitting.

All-in-all, twitter can be a great place to connect with other writers, editors, agents, and people involved in all stages of publishing. It can be a great place for indie-authors and small publishers.

One Last Thing

Make sure to keep your brand consistent from site to site. You don't have to reshare everything from Twitter onto your facebook, but you should still feel like the same person.

Check back next week, where I'll take on Tumblr, Instagram, and more.

#writeblr #writer tips #amwriting

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