How my article about young adult literature opened a debate about journalism on Twitter

I went on vacation last week. Before I left, I filed one of the most innocuous stories I have written in my career: a selection of 15 Young Adult books I thought readers of all ages (meaning, adults and teens alike) might enjoy.

The story went live after I touched down in Norway. A couple of days later, I woke up to a few Twitter notifications – not a huge number, but enough to warrant a double take. I took a closer look, and it turned out that people were upset. The books on the list were too American. They weren’t recent enough. I hadn’t included any “genre” YA – surely the result of snobbery.

Now, I could explain why I made all these editorial decisions, and why they weren’t, in fact, motivated by malicious intent. But it would feel unfair – and, frankly, kind of petty – to give such a response on this website, when people were, after all, just expressing their opinions on Twitter. Nevertheless, the incident did result in enough personal discouragement that I seriously considered quitting Twitter for the first time in my journalistic career.

When you communicate something – anything – to a large number of people, you’re guaranteed not to get through to at least some of them. It comes with the territory. But on social media, those who disagree and/or dislike what you say are more likely to voice their opinion than those who agree. Journalists are familiar with that process: negative news makes headlines much more often than positive events. Bad news is news. Good news? Not so much. The same applies when reading an article. The content fits your views? Good. Things are as they should be. It doesn’t? Something’s wrong.

As a journalist, I do make an effort to stay open to constructive criticism when it arises on social media. Rightly, I question myself when a significant number of people make the same comments on my work: perhaps they have noticed an oversight I wasn’t able to see myself. But on Twitter, where outrage is such a powerful driving force, it can be near impossible to sort the wheat from the chaff. And as a journalist, I need to preserve my self-confidence. In order to be of service to my readers – in order to ask tough questions, to take an idea and run with it, to be as creative, accurate and thorough as possible – I need to trust my abilities. Social media is of no use to me if it makes me question my every move.

So I haven’t left Twitter. Journalists should never write in a vacuum, and the platform remains an unequalled way to connect with readers. But people might not realise how important – and how rare – positive feedback can be for a writer. I know I’m at fault too: when I read an article I like, I will most often nod appreciatively and close the tab. But after my incident with YA fans, I took two pledges: one, I will never again frantically search for wifi in the streets of Oslo in order to watch a tweetstorm unfold. And two, I will let other writers know when I appreciate their work.

Positive feedback sometimes gets a bad rap. We’re not supposed to need it. We’re just doing our jobs. Can’t we just tough it out a bit? But praise isn’t always about vanity. It can also contribute to painting a more accurate picture of reality – one where negative feedback doesn’t exclusively drive the conversation. And so today, I take a pledge: I will never again be a silent happy reader.

Yours,

Clémence Michallon

US culture writer