About Eve Poetry – This is my story.
Deanna Ramirez is the creator of Eve Poetry and Eve Poetry Magazine.
Deanna lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband and three children. The photo above is from a recent family vacation to Disneyland. Photo shows Deanna, her husband, and two daughters.
Creation of Eve
In June of 2018, I selected the pen name Eve Poetry. I created a new Instagram account with this handle, and began dedicating some of my free time to writing. The pressure valve of my soul was about to blow, and Instagram was a solution for the creative outlet maintenance that I needed. The name Eve Poetry would effectively hide my identity, so that I could keep my writing a shameful little secret, too embarrassed to admit my heart’s desire (like so many other writers and creatives – you know this is true!). Sharing my poetry in this way enabled and empowered me to fully convey a message or feeling and fit my words on small square post size that is permitted on the Instagram platform. It was a natural starting point for me.
My Story – Why the name, Eve?
Why the name Eve? There are a few reasons I chose this name. The Oxford Dictionary defines the word eve as: the day or period of time immediately before an event or occasion. Seems fitting, right? Creating the Eve Poetry Instagram account was the eve of my acknowledgement. The acknowledgment that I am a writer, and that writing is what I want to do with my life.
The name Eve means to breathe or to live. Penning and sharing poetry, and writing my first novel, feels like a most fulfilling inhale and exhale. It gives me breath. Owning and acknowledging myself as a writer is me living.
Finally (and I saved the best for last), a reason that includes my husband. I met my husband in the fifth grade. We attended a small private Christian school in California (a school I only attended for two years). I was the only fifth grader at this tiny school until Reese showed up just before Christmas break. Fast forward to our sixth grade year, and it seemed like he and I were repeatedly paired together for skits and school plays. In one such play, Reese and I were selected to play Adam and Eve. Never in a thousand years would this sixth grade girl imagine she would one day marry Adam. Fortunately, Reese and I reconnected many years later as adults, and married in 2017. That’s the short version (you’re welcome!).
Last New Year I shared my resolutions with everyone. I listed five things I wished to accomplish in 2019. I’ll break each down and share how I did.
Resolution 1: Read my poetry in front of an audience.
When I wrote this I had already practiced reading poetry on Instagram Live. It was my practice ground for the real event – a live audience. People in a crowd staring back at me – a scary thought for most people. Me included.
Luckily, I live in Portland, which proves to be a GREAT location to live for a writer. Portland has amazing resources and groups dedicated to supporting writers and the art form of writing – whether it be poetry, short stories, novels – it’s all covered in PDX.
In downtown Portland, Literary Arts hosts workshops, runs the Portland Book Festival, and they also host Slamlandia once a month. The first event I attended at Literary Arts was a Slamlandia Open Mic.
I attended the Poetry Slam intending only to get a feel for it. Figured I would watch and it would warm me up to getting up one day when I felt ready. I sat down, then something inside urged me to get up and add my name to the list to read something.
2019 New Year Resolutions shared on Instagram
I’m so glad I did! That small tug to get up came from knowing myself. That if I only attended this first time, I may never get up and read. I envisioned myself settling into a habit of staying in my comfort zone as an audience member and knew I needed to rip off the blanket right out of the gate.
Reading and breaking through the fear I had to read my work in front of a live audience was empowering in all the best ways. I highly recommend it. The validation by fellow peers, the relief from the fact that you don’t spontaneously combust when you speak in front of a crowd of strangers, all of it leaves you feeling a sense of satisfaction you can only understand when you get up and read for yourself.
If you’re reading this and haven’t attended an open mic yet – and you’re a poet – I challenge you to add it to your 2020 New Year Resolution list! If you’re in the Portland, Oregon area and wish to attend an open mic- let me know when you go and I’ll try to attend with you!
Because of limitations on time – that there just isn’t enough hours in the day – I focused much of my effort on the Instagram group. The Facebook group exists and continues to grow, but has yet to receive the attention it deserves.
My goal for 2020 is to delegate the workload to the writing group members and empower them to create challenges, contests and other fun activities for the Facebook group. The group format on Facebook provides easier ways for people to interact and work together.
So if you’re reading this and have an interest in helping with Writers and Poets’ Cafe, please let me know!
Resolution 3: Finish my first book.
Done and done. I wrote my first novel and completed the publication of the first poetry anthology for Eve Poetry Magazine! Woot!
Publishing the poetry anthology was a huge learning experience. I made some mistakes though, like accidentally excluding a writer who I meant to include in the book! Ack! I appreciate your continued patience with me as I learn and grow.
That said, I’m pleased with the finished product. My hope for the next one is to include short stories and more writers, making it a bigger book. I’ll release Volume Two’s theme in February 2020.
Resolution 4: Make plans with close friends & family more often.
Wish I could say I achieved success on this one. However, resolutions onethrough three consumed my free time, so this resolution remains on my list for 2020.
Resolution 5: Leave room in each day to breathe.
Well, at least I’m 3 for 5! Three successful New Year Resolutions. Two that move to the top of the list for 2020.
My 2020 New Year Resolutions
I’m keeping my list concise. It consists only of two items: Make plans with close friends & family more often and leave room in each day to breathe.
Not to say I won’t have professional goals. There are many things I wish to accomplish in 2020 with writing, etc. They just need to move down in priority.
My principal goal in 2020 must be for self-care and reminding myself to breathe. Allowing myself downtime to clear my head, to rest more, and give myself permission to recharge and be still. I failed miserably at this in 2019. Took on too much. Wore myself down. Felt guilty when I became overwhelmed.
That’s just not healthy. Our health is foundational to everything else. It must come first. Duh, Deanna! **smacks forehead**
Hand-in-hand with self-care are the close relationship we [should] cherish. When we rush around, too busy to nurture relationships that matter, we lose touch with ourselves. In 2020, I aim to prioritize my time for my children, husband, and making plans with family – my sisters, brother, cousins, and close friends.
Last night, at my Grandfather’s celebration of life, I saw family members for the first time in YEARS. Many of them live only five or ten minutes away. It’s a shame to waste time this way.
What are your 2020 New Year Resolutions?
Please comment and share! I’d love to hear yours!
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Thanksgiving 2019 | Family, Loss and Forgiveness by Deanna Ramirez
Trigger Warning: Touches on childhood abuse and death.
Last night, I learned my grandfather passed away. I said my goodbye on Monday morning. His eyes, narrow slits, peered at me briefly. I think he saw me, though I don’t know for sure.
I haven’t seen my grandfather for nearly two years. He and my grandmother lived with my aunt. She and I had a falling out years back. She doesn’t like me around. So I’m no longer invited to birthdays or holiday celebrations.
Family history
I come from a family of enablers. Many family members who protect and huddle around those who do bad things. It’s a systemic issue, starting at the top. That’s how disease is. It begins at the pinnacle, then spreads as far as it’s allowed to reach. If nothing fights it. If no one uses antibiotics or anti-viral practices, it spreads its infection everywhere.
The vicious cycle of abuse continues in families so long as enablers are present. So long as enablers don’t acknowledge their part in it. This cycle distanced me from most of my family. Family that I moved to Oregon to be near.
Silence
I wrote a micro-poem months ago and shared it on Instagram: “Silence. The most underrated weapon.”
I know this to be true. Sickness. Evil. It flourishes with silence. In abusive families, it’s silently demanded. My experience with this broke my heart. My family rewarded the silence and shunned the truth when I spoke out. Speaking out, talking about it at all, met with discomfort, curiosity, judgment, and nothing at all.
As a child, I experienced the worst violation. Never did I speak of it. Guilt and shame kept me quiet. Confusion and the inability to understand why it happened kept me silent too. I’ll spare you the unnecessary private details and include only those aspects surrounding it.
Breaking my silence set me free. And it didn’t set me free. It was not an instant band-aid. Speaking the truth was messy and confusing in ways I couldn’t expect.
In fact, breaking my silence at twenty-six years old led to the destruction of a marriage and my family as I once knew it. Instead of relief, it filled me with a fear of people “knowing”, and many unexpected emotions for me to process. I didn’t process them.
The problem with silence is that in its power, it creates a habit of it. I became great at burying my feelings. Making them go away completely. It wasn’t real. I needed to believe that. When things aren’t real, they can’t hurt you.
Cousins and Truth
A few years ago we had a “cousin retreat” at the beach. I’m the eldest of eighteen cousins, most of which live in Oregon. We rented a large beach house. Many of my cousins and their families showed up, and all was fun and light-hearted. Until…
One cousin asked me about my childhood. About the thing I kept silent about. My stomach flipped when she asked. But I saw her eyes. I don’t know how long ago she learned of it, but she had questions and concern and I could see she needed answers. I did not owe her answers. But I love my cousin and don’t want her to speculate on details of that nature so I answered each question she asked. Other cousins trickled into the room we occupied. They had questions too.
The next day, a family member that wasn’t part of the private discussion said something to me at breakfast. He felt it was inappropriate that I talked about my childhood trauma during our happy gathering. He seemed to think I started the conversation and offered the gory details of my childhood unsolicited. His side remark punched me in the gut and I felt embarrassed and ashamed.
An aunt who joined our cousin beach retreat stepped in to comfort the family member who shamed me. “If you want to talk about it, for some perspective,” she said, concerned. She ignored me standing there in the kitchen. Standing there in disbelief. Everyone else quiet, eyes down at their breakfast.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that day. It hurt me deeply. Instead, I’ve only screamed in dreams. Vivid dreams where I screamed everything I never knew I wanted and needed to say. Just writing this – the pain is there still.
Family Shame
Remembering that moment at breakfast with my cousin, whom I love, still makes my heart ache. It chokes me up. How could he not understand? How could he blame me? Why would he shame me by scolding me like that?
It wasn’t his fault. My aunt shielded him from the truth. A family of enablers protecting the wrong people. In doing so, many of my family members had the wrong information. Can’t fault them for that.
Still, it hurts. No family member outside my immediate family (except for one aunt who sent a text message) expressed compassion for what happened to me. No sympathy or empathy. Only judgment, questions, and now, separation and exclusion. No invites to Thanksgiving dinner.
And I buried it. For the past few years, I have replaced disappointment and hurt with anger and no shits given.
I’ve spoken of the beach house incident twice to family members. Or tried to. Always, it came out in this feverish, don’t-know-how-to-say-it way. I searched earnestly for an understanding response. A sign of support. Both times, it left me feeling worse than I did before. Sorry, it was inappropriate of me to bring it up.
Now, I save this topic, in any capacity, for my entrusted circle. It consists of few people. They know who they are. (My sisters, especially. I love you!)
This is my first time writing about it. My vague it. Because I still don’t like to call it what it is.
The reason I share now, with you…
Because Thanksgiving is a time for reflection. My grandfather just died and my brain is on my family. As death does, it claws reality up to the harsh surface and forces you to face it.
My whole life, people preached grace and forgiveness to me. “Forgiveness sets you free.” “Forgiveness is for you, not for them.” My small, developing brain hard-wired itself to silence. As a child, the only way I could forgive was to pretend it never happened at all. “Forgiveness” is an enabler’s favorite tool. It’s evil’s favorite control device.
Not to say forgiveness has no place. However, if someone violates you, forgiveness is a default expectation. It should not be. We should not force forgiveness down throats of little girls and women, young or old. It’s confusing. It is harmful.
Thanksgiving 2019 – Empowerment
This Thanksgiving I’m taking back my power. Yes, it’s cliché, but dammit, it’s a good cliché!
I’m thankful for the family I have that supports and loves me unconditionally. My brothers and sisters. Mother and stepmother. My husband and children. They know my truth and never judged or shamed me for it.
I believe in forgiveness. This Thanksgiving I forgive myself. The little girl who silenced herself to survive.
I forgive the young woman that broke her silence, changing the dynamics of her family forever. I forgive the single mother who believed she failed her children time and time again. A mother who wasn’t always emotionally or mentally present in the months and years following divorce.
My forgiveness of self won’t happen overnight. I type this and share it with you to make myself accountable. I have much healing to do and it won’t be easy. Not with the ease in which I fall back into the bury-it-and-forget-it mode. Not with the small hurts that occur from extended family who open up old wounds. My wounds require serious naturopathic therapy. Deep cleansing and flushing out of toxins.
Forgive yourself this Thanksgiving.
Now that I’ve shared personal information in vague detail, I hope to inspire you to contemplate forgiveness and what it means for you.
This Thanksgiving, I implore you to focus on YOU. To those who experienced abuse, for those who suffer in silent guilt, it’s not your job to forgive your offender. It’s our life’s work to forgive ourselves. To reclaim our power. Erase the stigma we have of ourselves. Practice true self-love. It’s the only way we can be free. And the only way we can truly give love to those around us who deserve it.
This Thanksgiving I’m thankful for you. Thank you for reading my words and my truth. Thank you for your support and love. xoxo, Deanna
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.
I wrote my poem Summer Haze last spring as an ode to my childhood in Somerville, Massachusetts. Raised in the Mystic Housing Projects as a child, I spent summer days playing outside from morning till night.
Fueled largely by free lunches delivered to our neighborhood. I had no clue as a child it was charity. I relished the convenience of not having to leave the parking lot where I played. And the free lunches always had chocolate milk!
We lived in a third-floor apartment and I didn’t even know what air conditioning was. Summers in the eighties were hot and humid, and I recall drinking in the moist air when it rained. We called them sun showers. The large raindrops splashed off hot rooftops, as depicted in my poem. I can still smell the rain.
Steam rose from the hot concrete. My friends and I played in the puddles that quickly became warm in the sun. The warm puddles felt soothing on my bare feet.
Richie’s slushies.
Richie’s slush truck visited the Mystics daily. He’d drive up, jump out of the driver’s seat, then open the back filled with white tubs of Italian ice. My favorite is still watermelon. Ma loved lemon. I think it’s still her favorite, too. Cooling down with delicious slushies is a fond childhood memory.
My mother put change in a small plastic baggie, if we had one. She’d drop the bag out the window after I yelled up to her asking for a slushie, “Ma, ma! The slush truck is here! Can I get one?”
If we didn’t have a baggie, she’d just toss change out the window! Richie’s truck didn’t waste time, and I rarely had time to run up two long flights of stairs to get the money.
The coins bounced off the concrete scattering, and I’d chase them down. I remember the immense relieve when my hands held my watermelon slushie. It tasted amazing in the blazing summer heat.
Summer Haze will forever hold a special place in my heart. I’m grateful to have a beautiful quality canvas, thanks to Canvas HQ, to showcase the poem.
Summer Haze Canvas Contest
In honor of Summer Haze, I’m having a seven-day writing contest. The winner will receive a canvas (same size as mine)! Keep reading!
Write a short piece (poetry or prose) about home. Write something that inspires thoughts of home through your eyes. It can be a new sense of home and belonging, or fond nostalgic memories.
Share your piece on Instagram using the hashtags #evepoetrycontest and #canvashq. Deadline is October 31, 2019.
Visit the contest post on Instagram. Like the post and tag two friends in the comments to qualify.
I’ll announce the winner on November 2nd.
I’ll announce the winner on November 2nd on Instagram. The prize canvas is the size shown in the photo of Summer Haze on canvas above. Dimensions are 24″ x 36″ x 1.5″.
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.
CanvasHQ special promotion.
Order your own canvas and receive 35% off plus free shipping and handling on US orders. Click here and use the promo code: eve poetry.
Follower hide-and-seek. Only ten percent of followers see your posts. 10%! Thanks to the Instagram (which includes Facebook) algorithm.
I get 2% of likes to my number of followers. This makes me believe less than 10% of my followers see my posts in their feed. The alternative explanation is that my posts did not capture my followers’ attention. Therefore, not giving any likes.
What can I do to improve this? How can I get more followers to see my posts? If you research the Internet, these same general bullet points turn up to these questions:
Better photo quality
Publish consistent stories
Publish video content
Go live, and often
Answer DM’s
Craft better captions – add a call to action or question.
Have a contest or giveaway
Refine hashtag usage
Post when your followers are online
Avoid shadowban hashtags
I’ll share what I’ve learned on my Instagram journey from the perspective of an author and poet.
Instagram’s algorithm is unfavorable to words.
Did you know Instagram is unfavorable to words? When I created my Instagram account to feature my written work, I did not understand this!
In the beginning, it didn’t matter to me. I used my poetry account as a small creative outlet. I wasn’t thinking in terms of “likes” and “follows”. But once I took myself seriously as a writer, I looked at my use of social media differently.
I’ll address this unfavorable word topic below. But first…
Do you take writing seriously?
Do you call yourself a writer? A poet? An author?
If your answer to any of those questions is yes, GOOD! If it is not, why? Now, if writing is your hobby, then worrying about followers and likes is irrelevant and this article might not be for you.
However, if you care about this topic. If you want people to read what you write, you must resolve these issues. Admit to yourself that you’re a writer. Admit you’re a poet. Say it out loud. Tell someone. It’s okay.
Here’s a little secret – the people you think will judge you, don’t! The support surprised me when I told friends and family about my poetry and writing. You aren’t alone in hiding from shame.
You’re in good company.
This topic came up at a writers’ conference I attended. So many people admitted to hiding it. A keynote speaker encouraged everyone to say it out loud. I am a writer.
It was the best advice! I had already outed myself as a writer. But it affirmed in my heart something I had wanted to shout over Instagram, Admit what and who you are! Be proud! Embrace it!
Okay, now that you’ve admitted you’re a writer. Now, what? One of my college professors said, “You must market yourself as a writer.”
Writers must market themselves.
My professor was a published author who wrote an award-winning children’s book. She taught my Professional Writing class that writing success was our responsibility.
Unfortunately, I took this course prior to Facebook and Instagram. Authors then lacked concern for social media. Social media was irrelevant for writers then.
Swipe worthy marketing.
Today our world is different. The business of writing looks different. More competitive than ever. With the reader’s attention distracted by other, new stimuli offered immediately at their fingertips. People favor fast fulfillment. They want posts impressing them in ten seconds or less.
This century’s writers must capture readers in a finger swipe. As I write more on each point, keep this in mind. Ten seconds. A finger swipe.
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.
Quality matters.
Poor quality, spelling and grammar errors, and anything visually displeasing turns off fast eyes scanning an Instagram feed.
Use a spellcheck! Capitalize. I see a wave of people using lowercase EVERYTHING. Please, for the love of words, cut it out!
This is a fad that will fade, then die. As it should. It’s lazy. If your art is words, become a master of words. You can’t move from apprentice to master when you’re too lazy to capitalize and use proper grammar.
Now, I didn’t say perfect grammar. No one is perfect. Books make it to store shelves with mistakes in them. But this is the exception, not the rule. Accidents happen. People forgive happy little accidents. (Side thought: Could I become the Bob Ross of writing?“Let’s make this lowercase i into an I. There, now that’s better.”)
Help abounds.
Feeling rusty? That’s okay. There are tools to help you. We’re all using them!
Google Docs corrects your spelling and grammar for free. I use ProWritingAid. It made revising my novel possible. ProWritingAid catches spelling errors. It flags repeat words, or if the writers used too many glue words. It catches passive voice versus active voice. It’s freaking amazing.
Using ProWritingAid is like taking a refresher English course. In fact, I’m using it to write this article.
Highly recommend ProWritingAid, or Grammarly. Both offer free services. Use their free grammar checks. Try both free. I heard multiple authors say they use both during the revision process at my last writers’ conference.
I promise these resources will help you become a better writer. Remain a student of your craft and it will shine through your words.
Have out-of-focus posts turned you off? I’ve read well-crafted poems I didn’t feature on @evepoetrygroup because the words were fuzzy. Well written but “blah” to the eye. You can’t do that on Instagram and expect follower growth. For good reason, too.
It’s all about aesthetic these days.
Don’t know how to make eye-catching, beautiful posts? Good news! You don’t have to be a graphic designer and a great writer. Use apps. They’re awesome. They make life easier.
My recommendation is Canva. You can use Canva for free. Upgrading to Pro opens access to premium gorgeous fonts and stock photos. But again, you’d do just fine with the free version too.
Pick a look for your feed. Brand yourself. If you create a look and feel and decide you hate it, change it. That’s okay too. I’ve gone through a few phases of testing different looks.
Your brand.
Creating a brand is a process. You, the writer, have a brand. Make it look and feel you. Your brand is the message you wish to send. It should look the way you want your audience to feel.
Test things out. Change your mind. Eventually you’ll find your aesthetic. Your brand.
Do this, and people will follow you. They’ll like your posts more often. Because they will instantly recognize your post in their feed from your branding. It will happen. You’ll get there.
How often do you post?
Consistent posts are important for account growth. Anywhere from one to four posts per day are okay. Too many posts will flag you as spam.
Find a happy number that works with your schedule. There is no magic number of posts. Bummer, right? Consistency is key. Not posting all day long.
People desire reliable Instagram accounts that post consistent, quality material. Bottom line, yo! (Sorry, on a Breaking Bad kick ever since El Camino came out.)
The what. Words, Words, Too Many Words.
More words on an Instagram post (or caption) means fewer likes. That’s it. The short and sweet. And it sours your tongue, right?
How do writers deal with it? Keep reading. This may cause debate. But if you want to be a professional writer, you need to throw away any purist notions you have about sharing your work on social media.
First thing to understand: They created Instagram for people to share photographs. It has a simple scroll feature for this purpose. This feature, by design, is unfavorable to posts filled with words.
The why. Why do they hate my words?
Casual scrolling is lazy. Reading is work. Casual scrolling and reading a post, then reading the long caption that goes along with it, doesn’t mesh super well.
Avid readers (who read books, not Instagram posts) or your supportive writer friends read your longish posts. However, you’re not capturing followers in droves because you’re not thinking of your audience’s mindset.
The who. Know your audience.
Mothers, fathers, teenagers, baristas, foodies, the Kardashian’s, white collar business men looking for love, every race, religion, and creed. Just about every type of human is on social media. Except people with something to hide. But I digress. That’ll be a different, festive article.
Your audience is a beautiful mix of people who log on social media for moments of escapism.
They check Instagram in the bathroom at work. Yeah, that’s right. They read your flowery sonnet squatting on the toilet. Sitting in traffic (not safe, but you people do it!). Social media checks occur in line at the grocery store or in a doctor’s waiting room.
Short wisps of time. That is your audience’s mindset.
Make your follower smile in the short 30-seconds you have their attention. Make them giggle. Embarrass them while they wait in line at Starbucks. Cause them to snort with laughter from the brilliant photo you picked to illustrate your short narrative.
Keep it brief. Little word appetizers. Teasers. The happy hour menu. Make them want to stay for dinner. Now I’m getting ahead of myself.
The How.
Create posts incorporating everything mentioned above. If your poem is long, include a portion of your poem in the post. Ensure the stanza or portion you include displays in high resolution.
The post should be crisp and clear. Dazzle the eyes. Use resources like Canva to do it.
Include the full poem in the post’s caption or guide people to your website for the full read. Use the post as a teaser. But be sure the post itself is complete. It should stand on its own.
Break it down.
It’s okay if they read, like and scroll on. A few dazzling nibbles later, the reader will read further. They’ll investigate your profile.
Using the caption for the full poem can be tricky. Someone may love a post but scares off by a lengthy caption. Short attention spans. Remember, the mindsets of brilliant people changes for social media.
Using Instagram’s carousel option works too. Breakdown your writing into two or three images for one post.
Use high-resolution graphics and smaller fonts. Poems appear more consumable to the eyes. It’s strange, yes. But it worked for me on my post shown below.
If concise wording is key in both post and caption, then a website is even more important for writers. Use social media to draw fans of your writing to your website.
Use your own judgement regarding the format you use. I’m leaning toward shorter posts and non-wordy captions and directing my followers to read my website content. (Except for contests, etc. That’s different.)
If you build it, they will come.
Don’t have a website? Why not? These days it’s super easy to slap a blog together.
Use your website to display your long form poetry. Then you can play around as much as you like. It’s your dang website! Instagram can’t tell you what to do there!
Plus, you can link all your social media channels to your website to solidify your brand.
Believe me, if I can start a website, so can you. Weebly is a great option.
You can’t buy popularity on Insta.
Many sources recommend paid promotions through Instagram when I researched increasing post reach. So I tried this theory. A theory that claims paying for promotions increases reach on the algorithm because it reassures Instagram that you’re not a bot. That you don’t sketchy things to gain likes or followers.
Instagram cracked down on scandalous tactics people use. Buying likes and followers: Don’t do it. Accounts disappeared in the past six months because of Instagram’s crackdown on fake likes and followers. Did you notice it too?
Many legit accounts (like mine and yours) suffer because people shirked the system. They bought social media popularity. It didn’t work out for them. Because of it, the rest of us must work CRAZY HARD for visibility. Changes Instagram implemented reduced our post exposure.
Paid Promotions
The process. First, I selected a post of mine to promote to test the theory mentioned above. Next, I set up the post and selected my target audience. I recommend picking your target audience versus letting Instagram do it for you.
In selecting my audience, I honed in on where I needed growth most. I picked locations where I wanted exposure. After making my selections, my potential reach was at 83,000,000. That’s huge!
Finally, they have you pick your budget and duration. I picked two days and ten dollars for the budget. Doing so reduced my reach. By a lot. Instagram will show you the number of reach in a range based on budget and duration.
It makes sense. Instagram provides instructions in their Help section, if you need them.
This process added to my awareness of the amount of control Instagram has on who sees our posts. If I pay more, they let more people see my posts. The more you spend, the more exposure they let you have. Otherwise, screw you, Eve Poetry! (Again, I digress.)
Once the promotion began, I received an email from Facebook. In fact, I received three emails from three different posts that I paid Instagram to promote.
The Instagram Rub
And by rub, I mean a real gnarly carpet burn. They informed me, “your image contains too much text”. In the subject line of one email, ” Your Ad Is Not Delivering.”
I’ve included screenshots of these emails below for your viewing pleasure.
Email received after trying Instagram promotion.
After the above promotion, I experimented with different text styles, font size, and the number of words. Adjusting the standards in ways I thought would please Instagram. Then I received another email.
Second email received from Facebook.
Want to know the worst part? Instagram won’t allow you to edit a post once promoted. Facebook emails telling you to fix the problem. Then Instagram won’t let you. Even after the promotion is over, you can’t edit the dang post!
On both posts, I opted to delete the promotion. Because I couldn’t edit my post. If I can’t “fix the problem” as instructed, I won’t waste my money.
Instagram (Facebook) blamed me, a writer promoting my art form, for using too much of my art in my post. Ultimately, they blame the user to create an excuse for the debacle that is the algorithm. The algorithm controls viewership. It’s censorship. They censor who sees what.
Censorshipin disguise.
In saying this, I realize there are reasons for their censorship. Many iterations of the algorithm were to protect people from harm or bullying. This is important. I respect safety. Online bullying is unacceptable. No one should be unsafe on social media.
Using an algorithm to censor artists is not the answer either. Limiting how many people see our posts is censorship. They mask their censorship with their algorithm. That sucks. Nothing we can do about it but quit Instagram or learn how to use this tool, obstacles and all.
The obstacle is invisible, and writers have it worst!
The transition from what you’ve been doing to implementing any suggestions I’ve made requires patience. Be patient with yourself. Don’t try everything all at once. Practice self care. It’s frustrating. So be kind to you.
Take it in small bites. Just like the saying, how does a mouse eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
Try small changes and see if your likes increase or decrease. If they increase, keep doing it! If you don’t see improvement, adjust something. Small increments.
Did you lose likes? Something didn’t work the way you hoped? It’s not a failure. Don’t think you failed by trying something new.
Even recently, I’ve tried new things that failed. I expect it. I lick my wounds and try again. Licking wounds is gross, so I get a little better with each new attempt.
Unless you explode overnight and become the next Atticus, it’s a process. I have posts that bomb. I’m in a process. Still finding my groove for Eve Poetry on Instagram.
Comfort zones are danger zones.
Use Instagram Live. It’s another layer of exposure. All video features for Instagram help you increase reach. If you hate Lives, then make appearances through your Instagram story.
Don’t use Insta Stories only to share your posts. Change it up. Show a piece of your life. Connect with your followers. Be a real person. People want a connection.
Connection matters.
Recently, I saw Margaret Atwood on stage. I’m a huge fan of The Handmaid’s Tale. However, once I saw her live in person, I became enraptured.
My fan status jumped up a huge notch seeing and hearing her discuss her life and her work. She is wonderful. She was wholly herself.
My husband wasn’t a fan, but he turned to me fifteen minutes into her interview and said, “I want her to be my grandma!” This is a testament (pun intended) to the importance of connection.
What it’s all about.
Seeing someone. Hearing a voice. It creates a real connection. Connection creates real followers. Real followers create real engagement. Real engagement creates authentic accounts with real growth. Strive for this.
Comment with Questions
Don’t fear my dear, there will be more of these. This is long enough, yet there is still so much I need to tell you!
If I left something out, comment and I’ll include it in my next article! Thanks for reading. Please let me know if this helped. If you found it helpful, please share it!
It is though in those years⠀ I was lost at sea⠀ ⠀ Longed hard for love’s arms ⠀ to wrap warmth around me⠀ ⠀ Instead glacial glares ⠀ Frost dealt cold as ice⠀ ⠀ Left to tread frigid dread⠀ Just so you would play nice
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Lover you will not be the death of me ⠀ Never have I relinquished such power ⠀ Allowing you only the idea of it ⠀ Raving lunacy of self absorption with eyes to see ⠀ only what they wish⠀ My aura billows abundant radiant light⠀ consuming me⠀ And I embrace it⠀ ⠀ Ex Lover⠀ bound in darkness too blind to ever see the light
Forgiveness is not black and white⠀ For layers peel back in their time ⠀ A placid beast of delicate skins⠀ expose deep lesions ⠀ Wounds cannot forgive ⠀ Their sting stirs memory⠀ Only time can heal⠀ Never to forget ⠀
The little shed is painted blue with two old chairs for me and you We sit and talk till stars shine high Discuss wild dreams and sometimes cry The shed is dark and meant for tools but staged just right for dreaming fools One day we'll laugh and reminisce Having checked off goals from our shed dream list
The war in me for equality For equal pay Performing quality work in the same way And never needing to be told Cause I have integrity to uphold I do what is right Regardless of whose around or nowhere in sight In my skin, I have nothing to hide Living above reproach with family on my side Not the one's that you may think Most of them prefer that I fail and sink Please don't waste pretense to worry about me I know who to trust and hold close Those who are fake in due time, truth wins and their lies are exposed
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Stop allowing the fear of what others' think ⠀ subtract from your possibilities!⠀ You are not the sum of opinions⠀ You are not the sum of mistakes⠀ You are the sum of You ⠀ Holding whatever You want to be⠀ completely in Your hands
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising / referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.
