Tweet, Tweet, Who's There?

by Mandira Pattnaik

Souvik Banerjee

Suffice it to say that my last column on scribbled notes and trailing bogies of thoughts would remain incomplete, particularly in the current environ, without the mention of writers’ tweets, tweet length stories (#vss, #vss365, etc.) and tweet-based literary magazines (Cuento, Mythic Picnic). A tweet may be called the new-age, electronic version of random thoughts we often put on paper: A great idea, the seed of something that’ll become a story, a profound universal truth — all become a tweet or tweet series that is broadcasted by the writer herself, and in some cases by dedicated publisher accounts. It is free to read, open to all and often takes the reading community by surprise.

This open and unlimited field of amazing micro stories, vignettes and ideas, literally survives because there is Twitter. And, Twitter is the global talking point these days. People are discussing whether to quit Twitter ever since Elon Musk bought it, and the space is very clearly in doldrums. As I write this column, the proverbial sword hangs on the heads of hundreds of employees (Nov. 4) as they expect a YAY or NAY email in their work or personal inboxes, depending on whether they stay or go. Isn’t that similar to our decline letters? Except editors are far more courteous, it’s just one submission that’s in question and not what we spent years working on, and finally, it’s not the question of livelihood. At least I know of nobody living by the sums she receives by writing and writing alone, whereas Twitter’s ex-employees must start looking for jobs on a Friday evening. How weird is that!

Returning to our subject, so what exactly becomes of the continuity of those scrap notes aka tweet-length micro stories aka great ideas/beginnings/punch-lines if Twitter becomes a restrictive place or is gone altogether? This October 7, Cuento Magazine turned 12, and they’ve published Twitter-exclusive micro pieces every week. Whose domain do those pieces become? Obviously, writing a story in a tweet or several is considered publication. So someone definitely owns them. But who?

The strange part is that because Twitter has become such an integral part of our lives, the random scrap of thought gets to Twitter first, instead of on paper. It’s like giving the fleeting thought a permanence. Given the transient nature of all thoughts, it is perfectly understandable that writers use tweets as a launch pad, like an egg hatched to be incubated later. It belongs to the writer but also to everyone else, in which case tweet ownership becomes a complicated point. It’s as selfless the sharing of an idea or info as it can get.

“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.”

― Edgar Degas

Finally, the role of instant notes sent out into the void is realized when a work (not on Twitter, but existing elsewhere — in the pages of a literary magazine, whether print or online) finds favor. You’ll find it mentioned dozens of times on your timeline, and, as is the human brain’s inquisitiveness, you’re most likely to click on a link and find out and read it. No wonder, it boosts more creativity, more conversation and ultimately results in more art being generated. Of course there’s a downside as some lit community controversies (like an interview published in Hobart magazine recently) receive so many tweet-opinions that these become larger than themselves, transform into stories from where is drawn more articles, analyzing or explaining the case.

As multiple reports suggest that Twitter is unlikely to stay the way we see it now, given the new ownership and economic swamp it is caught in, would you miss the flashes of brilliance that you get to read for free everyday: prompts, quotes, anecdotes, jokes, and plain flagging of something crazy that happened to someone’s kid? Plus, of course, the announcements of acceptance and rejections. I’m sure most will.

Furthermore, this Social Media giant also has dedicated accounts that address the concerns of writers, including that of writing, craft, process, workshopping, submissions, peer groups, and open positions of reading teams. Is there a chance these will exist elsewhere? How would these reframe and reinvent themselves?

I’d hate to see Twitter go. I’ve participated in so many tweet-based contests, and surprisingly won some dollars too. I think the networking part is a bit overrated, as literary magazines and writers existed before Twitter, but all the rest — submission calls, sharing of a fellow writer’s joys and sorrows, helping out a new writer with kindness and info — these will be sorely missed. What many of us, particularly in the global South, will definitely feel the lack of, is the camaraderie we share with like-minded people from across the world.