A group of published UK-based authors and illustrators of picture books, children's and YA.


Perfect lives. Everyone has them but ourselves. Or at least, that’s how it seems when we view people’s Facebook or Instagram posts.

How come? Because we’re all being highly selective with the information we share. We only post the cute dog pictures, not the poop bags and hairy-drool trails. We only share the best sunsets, not the average grey and dusty days. We show off our best chocolate cakes, the Walton-esque family photos, our good hair days and five-star reviews.

The problem is this highly stylised version of semi-reality isn’t doing us any good. In a 2014 poll of around 1,500 social media users by the charity Scope, 62 per cent said these sites made them feel inadequate about their own life or achievements and 60 per cent said they make them feel jealous of other people’s lives. We all tut-tut about airbrushed models in magazines, but we constantly air-brush our own experiences – even though it’s likely to have the same inadequising (I may have made that word up!) effect on others. There’s a fine line between the social media post and the social media boast.

It’s not surprising that writers are particularly good at this ruthless editing to create the image of a perfect life. Many authors are also particularly skilled at that subtle but insidious interaction, the ‘humble-brag’ – as in: ‘I’m such a flake – just can’t decide between my two publishers!’ or ‘Eek! About to talk about my book on national TV! So nervous!!’ Grrr.

I’m not saying writers have to be perfect, model citizens, of course. But on social media some of us become a Mary Sue (or Marty Stu): defined as ‘a poorly developed character, too perfect and lacking in realism to be interesting’. We as writers should know better than this – and yet on Facebook and twitter we turn ourselves into an impossibly sweet, relentlessly positive ideal of who we really are.

But writers, of all people, should be leading the charge against this kind of thing. Why? Because although our job is to make up stories, the purpose of making up those stories is actually to get at a kind of truth. We’re trying to make connections, to have a reader recognise themselves or relate to the characters we create. We write about dystopia in order to expose what’s wrong with society today. Characters who don’t tell the whole truth, in children’s fiction, usually get what’s coming to them. The golden, popular kid is never the interesting one and very rarely the hero.

I may have posted the odd sunset in my time. Guilty as charged. But anyone who follows me on social media knows that I am more likely to post my fails than my successes and that I am frequently given to grumpy comments. Because that’s what I’m really like. Hashtag:NotPollyanna.

So writers: let’s stop this sunsettery and humbugginess. Let’s become more honest and rounded on social media – and let’s confine our ruthless editing to our fiction. We’ll all feel better for it.

Bea Davenport is the author of The Serpent House (Curious Fox) and My Cousin Faustina (ReadZone Books). A former BBC and newspaper journalist, she holds a Creative Writing PhD. She teaches journalism and creative writing and lives in historic Berwick upon Tweed. Her YA novel The Misper is out on submission.

About barbarahenderson

Degree Programme Director, Multimedia Journalism, Newcastle University. Former newspaper and BBC journalist. Commercially published novelist for adults and children.


This entry was posted on May 19, 2017 by .

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