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Twitter can be an artistic platform for digital publishing. Broder seems to use the convention of the concise, 140-character tweet as an incubator for her more grandiose ideas, on which she elaborates in her essays. In addition, Broder utilizes the popular social media platform in a novel manner: to preserve her anonymity.<\/p>\n
The anonymous aspect of the internet-personality she cultivated is a particularly intriguing aspect of her philosophy. It was not until her Rolling Stone <\/em>interview<\/a> in May 2015, while promoting the highly-anticipated release of So Sad Today<\/em>, that she identified herself as the poet, Melissa Broder, and claimed her formerly-anonymous Twitter handle. In this way, her style of digital publishing is turning the established paradigm on its head and further blurring the definition of what exactly constitutes authorship and publishing in the digital age. As an author, poet, and essayist, Broder\u2019s fosters a distinctive style of confessional prose, published in a contemporary, digital format, from a (formerly) anonymous point of view.<\/p>\n In the essay \u201cI Don\u2019t Feel Bad About My Neck<\/a>\u201d (83), Broder turns Nora Ephron\u2019s satirical August 2003 essay inside out, most obviously by inserting \u201cDon\u2019t\u201d in to the title, but more subtly in subject matter and tone by replacing conventional notions of vanity with jarring sexuality in the ubiquitous obsession about aging, in lines such as \u201cI feel bad that my vagina used to be more pink\u201d (85), \u201cI feel bad that I don\u2019t have a dick\u201d (87), for example. Her rationale turns to assorted, abstract anxieties including maternal fantasies, \u201cI feel bad that sometimes I wish to just be struck pregnant\u201d (84), and gripes with systemic racism, \u201cI feel bad that as a white girl I can go shopping in certain store and won\u2019t be eyed, bothered, humiliated, kicked out, unlawfully arrested, or shot, and that the same is true for me of pretty much all places, institutions, and public parks. That\u2019s not true for all human beings\u201d (90). However, what is most revealing are the final two lines that perhaps encapsulate an essential truth of Broder\u2019s collection, if there is one to be identified, which is her sense of indelible humility. Preceded by a sentence in which she concedes her \u201cstruggle\u2026is nothing compared to other people\u2019s struggles\u201d, \u201cyet\u201d, she acknowledges, \u201cit still hurts\u201d, she admits:<\/p>\n \u201cI feel bad about this essay.<\/p>\n I feel bad about this book.\u201d<\/p>\n Perhaps, these final sentiments function as veiled responses to criticisms<\/a> that her aesthetic glamorizes mental illness, a topic which she is vocal throughout her essay collection, in her poetry, on her @sosadtoday Twitter, as well as on her personal Twitter<\/a>, and in interviews<\/a> (\u201cI see myself trying to patch a hole inside me that cannot be patched by anything external\u201d, So Sad Today<\/em>, \u201cI Took the Internet Addiction Quiz and I Won\u201d, \u00a073).<\/p>\n Broder manages to approach these complex topics with humility and unrelenting honesty, that goes beyond cringe-worthy, and she implores for the reader\u2019s attention as well as emotional and intellectual engagement to comprehend, digest, and respond to them. As Carlin Romano distinguishes \u201creading a book \u2026 requires concentration, endurance, the ability to disconnect from other connections\u201d, as opposed to digital engagement of social media. Therefore, Broder\u2019s use of Twitter increases the accessibility of the art she publishes simply because the platform in which it is published is interactive, and better yet, practically live. Followers can engage with Broder in the comment\u2019s section, favorite, retweet, interact and react to her ideas, concepts, and feelings. Arguably, this advent allows \u201cinterested readers feel engaged and involved with the publishing process of a title, [and therefore]they are more likely to spread their excitement to other users\u201d (Criswell, Canty). The reality of her parlaying an anonymous, existential internet-personality on a condensed social media platform into a published collection of personal essays is a testament to the digital culture we inhabit, and the evolving possibilities for the circulation of art on platforms such as Twitter in the future.<\/p>\n![\"screen-shot-2016-11-03-at-8-40-53-pm\"](\"http:\/\/www.digitalrhetoriccollaborative.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/Screen-Shot-2016-11-03-at-8.40.53-PM.png\")
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