The Digital Hook

“There is a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.”

Sharing our projects is easier than ever... right? Then why is it that, the moment I hit that cute blue share button on Instagram, all my confidence seems to disappear? One second I’m proud of my work, and the next I’m staring at analytics, wondering why no one is seeing this piece of my heart that I just posted. Five seconds of view time on a twelve-second video? What am I doing wrong? And more importantly, why am I even checking these numbers?

Social media "rewards" content that grabs attention instantly, while slower, more thoughtful work often goes unnoticed. This makes me wonder: has art always been about reaching the biggest audience possible, or is this something new? What do people really want? And do I even care what they (people engaging for one internet point) want from me?

Social media moves fast. If a post doesn’t hook viewers in the first few seconds, three, to be exact (that seems to be the golden rule social media gurus swear by) it gets buried under endless scrolling. That’s why quick, flashy content thrives: time-lapses, dramatic reveals, hyper-edited process videos with memes overlapped into them. Yesterday I saw someone holding their 32" ultra-wide monitor and slowly turning it to reveal a Blender screenshot, just to make it "engaging." Lol. What. Is. Going. On.

What does that mean for the way we create? Are we making art for ourselves, or for algorithms? And if it’s the latter, does that change the way we express ourselves? Is the goal to create something meaningful, or just to make something that strangers will click on? Are we telling stories because they matter to us, or are we trying to package them in a way that ensures engagement?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot while working on my short film. It’s a story about a boy stuck in a room, surrounded by doors that seem to lead nowhere. Only when he listens to his heart does he find the key to move forward. In a way, it reflects my own doubts. 

Does making a longer, more personal project even matter in a world of short, viral content? Some days, I genuinely wonder. The temptation to make something quick, something digestible, something that “performs well” is always there. But then I remind myself: I’m not making this film to go viral. I’m making it because it means something to me. Because I have the incredible privilege of sitting down and telling a story that feels true to me. 

Maybe there’s no single right or wrong way to approach this. Some very talented artists thrive in the fast-paced world of social media, adapting to its demands while still making meaningful work. Others create for themselves, detached from reach and performance metrics. At the end of the day, I think the most important thing is to stay true to why we tell this stories in the first place. Whether our work reaches a million people or just a handful who deeply connect with it, that connection is what makes art powerful. Do you also struggle with this? 

WIP Image from The Boy Who Found A Door