RANT

Do I Really Need You?

Hell, yes. So please follow me.

Yesterday, I was hit with a virtual brick to the head. And it knocked me for a loop.

First off, I was reeling from the news of all the “underground warehouse parties” that the cops have had to bust up, many of them in New York and Los Angeles, according to CNN. Skin-on-skin brawls attended by the truly ignorant among our population, who care only for themselves and their need to get trashed and then laid by strangers. Factor in this breathtaking example of how selfish we can be with those folks who refused to stay home over the holiday and you can bet this virus is going to hang on for dear life.

In other words, we are fucked.

I was also struck by another, equally-disarming need: The need for writers like myself, to amass followers. A lot of followers. Why? For validation? Partly, but the real reason is more basic than that. We need readers to hit that “follow” button so we can make some cash. Boom.

Now I know it’s not only we scribes who crave and depend upon followers, as we live in shallow times and the notion of having “depth” is a foreign concept to many but today, my focus is on people like you and me, people who write our hearts out, not just because we love it, but because we all have bills. And those bills need to be paid. And the more followers we gain, the more readers who profess to like us, the greater the likelihood that we won’t be left floundering at the end of the month.

I am as guilty of this pandering as anyone and I am starting to question what the hell it is I want my life to be. What am I trying to achieve? Who am I trying to impress?

For once, I’m not putting the focus on this platform but on News Break, the relatively new place on the block for us desperate-to-impress, to flock.

Perhaps that sounds a bit strong, but, even though I am happy to test the waters in the hope that my reliance on Medium will wane, something feels not quite…right.

I joined the Facebook group dedicated to the News Break writers and there was a “follow-for-follow” share thread, as we need to gain something like five hundred followers in our first month, to make some serious bread.

Please don’t quote me or take the above as gospel as I admit: I haven’t scoured the agreement like I probably should have. I gave it a look to make sure I wasn’t getting royally screwed and then jumped in, feet first. All systems go!

Note: I said “royally” as we writers are routinely screwed, so much so that we’ve come to expect that ole’ kick in the ass. But, much like with sex, there are different levels of screwing,

Dutifully, I followed as many profiles as I could. I mean, I have a life, guys, like everyone here and there's only so much sitting on our asses in front of a computer we can do.

Unless you’re one of the writers pulling down 10k a month and can afford to pay someone to wash your dirty laundry and sweep the dust bunnies out from under your bed.

But they’re not here reading this piece, because those folks never read nor follow me. They’re too busy cleaning up in a different way. And I have too much self-respect to follow them.

So back to the FB group. As I stated, I followed a shit ton of people who posted their News Break profiles, most of whom didn’t reciprocate. I was trying to be nice…helpful, you know? But, as of this writing, I have thirty-two followers. Pitiful.

Not only does this frustrate me, and yeah, piss me off, but it makes me sad. Sad that I even need these people. I don’t want people to jump on the follow bandwagon for the sole purpose of my returning the favor, I want my words to resonate. But that said, I’ll take the “shallow follow.” Especially if that means I can experience a decent payday for the first time in two years.

And I’m ashamed. Ashamed that I need something so…vapid and self-serving.

This is what I am happy about: The writers here who have become my friends. Who follow me because they enjoy my ramblings and who I follow in return, because I enjoy theirs. They do not factor into this story as this is not about them.

I have to wonder, when the hell did we become so needy? Why can’t we be successful on our own merit? When did the times shift so dramatically that our greed for slavish devotion trumps our desire to be the best we can be and fuck the rest?

Even as a screenwriter, I can’t get by on great material alone. I need to find people who will pony up the dough to make my script. I need to find bankable talent. Yes, that is apparently the writer’s responsibility now. I need a manager who is as hungry as I am. I need a lawyer. I need an agent. I need.

I don’t like to need. I like to do. To achieve. To slay. You know? Yeah, I realize, “no man’s an island.” But in a way, we are indeed “islands.”

Plus, the way we’re all “connected,” pissing off just one person on Facebook or Twitter can set off a chain of ugliness that can shut us down like that. Island-dweller, or not. Been there, done that, so I know. You can be an asshole as long as you’re a PC asshole.

As for Medium, I’m still confused as to what constitutes “success” on this platform where I’ve been working my butt off for over two years. Things keep changing, the algorithm keeps shifting and it’s hard to know where we stand.

At the end of the day, what is the single, most impactful catalyst to earnings? Claps? Apparently, not. Curation? I don’t even know if that’s still a thing as I’m NEVER curated. Oh, I have a few under my belt but it’s been so long, curation hardly seems relevant. So what is it? Views? Reads? The tides? The rotation of the Earth? What in the hell is it?

I just read a story this morning offering up tips for going “viral.” What the hell? I’d have to catch Covid to go viral. I am both amazed and repelled by these individuals. There are so many bright, talented writers here who never get a crack at the “big time.” I don’t get it. And I guess I never will.

All these numbers. All these analytics. Where is the human factor, here? Is that where followers come in? At least they’re flesh and blood, something we can understand. Never a mathlete, I prefer to deal in words, not numbers. Give me something I can feel.

And then, there are the folks who unfollow you if you don’t respond in kind within a ten-minute window. For sure, you know they don’t give a damn about your blood, sweat, and tears. All they want is a return follow, aka, “The Human Centipede.” Must-see friends, if you’re up for the most disgusting film ever produced. But fun, if you’re up for anal.

I always wonder who ponies up the money for movies like that, while screenwriters like myself, are banging our heads on Hollywood’s door to no avail.

“Hey, whoever of you nimrods financed “The Human Centipede,” can you shoot me an email, please? I have a script I’d like to sell you.”

Anyway. I wanted to share my feelings with you because I want to know, am I crazy for feeling like this? Does it get to you, too? That niggling feeling of being so damned needy?

Whoever follows me, I do want to make the point that I am deeply grateful, whether you impact my earnings or not. That is the truth.

And I want, no I need, even more of you to follow me. And that, too, is the truth. I’ll probably hate myself in the morning for writing that, but “morning” is hours away. That said, I only want your follow if you enjoy reading me. And I will happily reciprocate.

Hey, “people who need people,” right?

© Sherry McGuinn, 2020. All Rights Reserved.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

Thanks for reading, guys. If you enjoyed this, I’d love for you to check out the following, as well as my newsletter, Sherry Raw.