There was a point I didn’t wake up early just to plan my social media posts.
There was a point where the idea of having a “red day” plan seemed totally inconceivable. Because I was just a guy on the net doing a thing, no one of real consequence. But having made one, I spend an evening explaining what it is, how it would happen, and who is in charge of what with the moderators of my chat server. I jokingly tell them it would be “my greatest trick”, a disappearing act that would take a grand total of thirty minutes to complete. I kid because otherwise, the reality of having to even think of such a thing will hit me and for all of a second fear would take over. They all agree. Then, they politely remind me in turn to be safe.
Every time I get a new follower, a new comment on something I’ve created, I look at the person’s profile. I go through their media, I check out their likes. I see how they interact with the world at large. To some this looks like paranoia. And you know what?
For anyone else, you’d be absolutely correct. But for me, for my field, for the kind of content I create? It’s literally the difference between a fan and a stalker. I don’t want to do this. I have to.
When someone DMs me or begins interacting with me more frequently, I keep a mental ticker going in my head. Are they overstepping? Am I sending mixed signals? It’s the usual social dance we all do on steroids because of audience projection. One misstep and someone will try to send nudes I didn’t ask for. One trip and someone is assuming I’m romantically interested in them. All the while, I have to keep “dancing”. I have to keep smiling-because I’m a professional, and the show has to go on regardless of if the stage is public or private.
That’s before we get to actually making real friends. That’s before we get to questions of “you say we’re buddies, but-”. Every interaction, every affirmation you give gets thrown into speculation.
Two years ago I never would have even dreamed any of this was necessary. This dance, the way in which I’m forced to be guarded. All these plans, all these extra security measures. But I’m on the stage now. With the spotlights bright and hot against my skin. Breaking even a single bead of sweat could be disaster. Much less, letting anyone see me bleed.
We’re in an era where celebrity culture is deification. A thousand-thousand self contained cults within bubbles, adherents ready to rend flesh from bone if necessary. With quarantine going on still and moods in the red?
It’s a rough time to be a content producer.
Finding Normal
I’ve a saying when it comes to creation:
“Do it because it’s fun. When it’s not, stop”.
I like that phrase. Because it’s simple, because it’s true. People produce content for a multitude of different reasons. Foremost among them though is passion. Maybe you want to make something because it would make your friends laugh. Maybe you are part of a fandom, like our last article. Regardless of the route you took to get here, passion guided you. You wanted to give the world a part of yourself it wouldn’t have had otherwise.
That’s no small feat. It’s not something to make light of. Creating content is inherently to trust, to open up the secret parts of yourself you keep stowed away. Sometimes people resonate with that, sometimes they don’t.
It’s always fun in the beginning. It’s liberating to give those parts of yourself away. There’s a rush with seeing a thing you made up somewhere. If that’s all you ever do, if you close out of your browser after and never read the comments-it stays this incredibly pure feeling. Hello, serotonin. So you do it again, and again-and would you look at that. You’ve a small group of people following you now. Cool.
Having an audience can be fun.
Audiences can give you ideas and lead to discussions you otherwise never would have had as a creative. Every single addition brings more to your creative process than you had before. It keeps demand steady. It keeps the conversation about your work ongoing, which leads to more interest. Past a point, an audience can ever serve as free advertisement for your work. It’s an open-source path to the creative process and it’s beautiful. It alleviates the dying embers of your creativity by keeping the sparks coming.
I want to make something very clear right now: There’s no way in hell I could have gone on for four years, thousands of pages and almost a thousand episodes (not counting commissions and guest spots on other projects) without my audience. There’s also absolutely no way my mental state and physical well being could be as good as it actually is without all of you. Every kind word, every suggestion, every quality criticism and friendship I have made doing this has helped build me into the man I am right now. I think of where I’d be without all of you sometimes, and I go pale. I dread leaving the stage. I assure you, that won’t be any time soon. Ever if I can help it.
But with having an audience, especially as a massive introvert, comes that aforementioned dance.
With it comes testing the lights, the walls, and when to call the curtain.
With it comes understanding who is a friend, who is a fan, and who is a threat. It’s not always easy. Frankly speaking, it’s damned difficult and squicky and there isn’t a single part of it that feels good. It sucks on a level I can’t even make a proper metaphor for. Yet it’s this thing you now have to do when you’re a performer. For your safety, for your sanity.
It completely changes every aspect of your social circles. It totally, often irrevocably, changes what you can and can’t say. Every post, tweet, picture and video is being watched. In an always online society, you’re never truly away unless you quit posting entirely. In sex work, an inherently intimate profession, it also means treating everything you do with a mind towards personal security and liberty first.
In the modern era, it’s not just your work that comes under scrutiny. It’s you. You’re the commodity people are after. And if you’re not careful, they’ll take absolutely everything.
I’ve seen careers ended in a single day. I’ve watched people get doxed for having a single tweet be taken out of context. I’ve watched people get swatted for their skin color, for being trans, for being in the wrong conversation at the wrong time. I’ve seen people stalked, harassed. Both have happened to me. I’ve watched as fans and stans produced content of people they never consented to in any fashion. Head canons between creators. “Shipping wars”. Ego Raptor (save your groans, please) even once literally had to ask fans to stop producing pornographic content of him-not a character, literally him. Fans were actually angered by this to boot.
Just recently, some had a meltdown when they discovered Joji and Filthy Frank were the same person. I wish I was joking.
To those on the outside, it’s hilarious. Even on the inside, it’s hard not to laugh sometimes. As a content creator though, beneath the smirk you have to ask yourself:
Am I next?
Will I be forgiven if I am?
Can I really trust anyone?
The sad part is, there’s absolutely no simple answer to that. At all. Whatsoever. Especially given the nature of how media is consumed today. The only true way to guard yourself is to think.
Iron Will With Silk Curtains
If you’re reading this as a fan, view the following section as tips on how to interact with content creators you enjoy. It’s likely things you’ve heard before and a few things you don’t actively think about. I don’t recommend skipping it at all.
If you’re a content creator, I’m going to assume you already know about “stranger danger” and are smart enough to practice that in reasonable fashion. I’m also assuming you have direct control over your social media rather than a PR agent. If the latter is the case-what the fuck are you doing here? Jesus, go buy a mansion or something you fucking nerd. Likewise, I’m going to assume you’ve read my previous article on getting into content creation. If you haven’t, give that a read as well when you can.
Likewise, this is going to be with a mind towards sex work specifically, but can be universally applied to pretty much any creative field.
So, you’ve crafted a stage presence. You’ve found an audience. You’ve a basic understanding of how to interact with them. Wunderbar. Now what?
Enact All Available Account Recovery Methods:
You’re going to use two factor authentication, and you’re going to go set it up for all of your socials right the fuck now. Before you roll your eyes and say “I already have a strong password”, ask yourself if taking five minutes (if that) to set up something that will prevent random people from viewing your private conversations with individuals is worth it. Can your career and personal life afford that? Because remember-your career and self are intertwined now. Do it. Likewise, if you conduct business in private with clients like me, getting those conversations leaked in any fashion will absolutely and utterly destroy any credibility you have in the SW field ever again. You’ll always be the person no one can trust.
Likewise, use the email you set up your socials on just for that. Don’t use it for your taxes. Don’t use it to send mom a quick email. That way, even if someone searches for that email, nothing of consequence will come up save your socials. Use a recovery email that is likewise just for that. Repeat after me: redundancy is good.
Make Your Boundaries Firm and Simple:
Have “office hours”. First off, it will preserve your sanity. Second, it gives your audience an understanding of when you’re “active”. It greatly lessens the amount of messages you’ll get pinged with at one and two in the morning.
Have a clearly visible comm list stating what you will and won’t do. Learn to say “no”. Not “I can’t do that, sorry” or “nah, not my thing”. No, mother fucker. Learn to repeat it with prudence, even in the face of whining, needling, begging. Say no with the authority of a fast food manager dealing with a mediocre middle classed white woman. Don’t “make exceptions for friends”, because everyone will assume they’re as such even without a single iota of evidence. No is powerful-anything else gives wiggle room.
If someone, anyone, can’t respect No-well, we all know my favorite phrase, right?
Now, No has an occasional tendency to bring a very strong reaction due to unwarranted entitlement. Which brings us to our closing point.
Do No Harm, But Take No Shit
Time.
Time is the one thing we all have an incredibly finite amount of. When it’s gone, so are we.
How you spend yours is up to you.
As a fan of someone’s work, it takes seconds to upvote, like, subscribe, comment or RT someone’s work. I do this without thinking. People have done it for me countless times, and it’s led directly to Splathouse having any success at all. The best part is-like love itself-it’s free and endless. It’s a totally harmless way to interact with your favorite creator. And who can’t spare a few seconds to share a work they enjoy?
As a creator, setting aside time to interact with your audience in a proactive fashion is incredibly important. Every creator handles this in a totally different way. Some of my favorite artists almost never speak and only upload their content. Others, like this jackass, talk and interact all day long. Do what fits your schedule. Do what fits your mental health needs. Do what works best for you.
But keep in mind one very valuable element-the curtain.
Your “onstage” and “offstage” presence can be totally different things, and that’s absolutely normal. Intertwining the two, to some degree, is also normal. However, on occasion people will assume what you present them is truly how you are. Which can lead to very, very awkward interactions via projection. Especially in intimate fields like SW.
Remember your boundaries. Don’t be afraid to clarify. Don’t be afraid to say No. Don’t be afraid to tell people what they’re doing is making you uncomfortable. Don’t be afraid to take screenshots, just in case. If your gut is screaming there’s trouble, there is. If your head is telling you to handle something delicately, do so. Always, always remember the curtain. Remember you can pull away. Remember the show only goes on as long as you want it.
Which, by the way-you should have a “red day” plan.
A red-day plan is a last resort self destruct button. Yes, this is the internet and everything is forever. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult for people. Because the very people that would do you harm have something in common with you:
They’ve only a limited amount of time. Like you, they’re only here for so long-and the internet’s attention span is roughly that of the life cycle of a blue bottle fly. Disappear hard enough and for long enough, and you’ll be ancient history. History only remembers the heroes and monsters-and you’re neither of those.
Probably. Hopefully.
If not, even the most cunning machinations can’t stop someone from recognizing you on the street.
Speaking of curtain calls, before we end for the day I’d like to remind you of this phrase:
Memento Mori, Memento Vitae. Remember death so that you remember life. Don’t be afraid to remind people you’re human. Don’t be afraid to do what keeps you safe. Don’t be afraid to return to “a normal life” if things go sideways.
The hourglass stops for no one.