About 10 years ago I read an essay by Alice Walker that hit close to home and has stuck with me through all these years. It was called “This That I Offer You” and began with the subtitle “People Get Tired; Sometimes They Have Other Things To Do.” It was about the baggage that comes with recognition and admiration, how it felt when she found herself appearing in the thoughts and fantasies of people she had often not even met. The process of dealing with this type of input and feeling compelled to explain herself became invasive and draining, yet to assuage imagined guilt she still found herself trying. She also relates her own experience on the other side. She had ongoing correspondence with a person she admired who was mentoring her. One time she wrote him and he did not reply. She immediately went into the type of panic we all go through when we believe someone has cut us off – asking herself if she inadvertently offended him, wondering if he decided her work was not worthy? In this case her letter had gone unanswered because the recipient was battling an illness. It wasn't anything she had done at all.

This happened long we before we became a culture of interactivity, immediate communication, and doing business 24/7. Think of it from the perspective of musicians and their fans in the internet era. Now anyone who attains any level of recognition has to seek a balance between interactivity, accessibility and the privacy they need to have a life, and practice their craft. Record companies have slashed their publicity departments and celebrity status is a rarity that is more likely to alienate than to attract fans. Artists are having to become proactive in areas of their careers that they left to others in the past. Suddenly they have to have more direct contact with the media, and their current and future fan base. Some find it easy, usually the ones whose careers have developed over the last few years. Others who got used to having several layers of buffers between themselves and their audience are wavering between culture shock and outright fear. Fans who are the beneficiaries of this accessibility aren't sure how much is too much, and when there is a miscommunication or misunderstanding that feels like a rebuff, hurt feelings and disillusionment can happen. Often when it shouldn't.

I hear a lot of stories because I've lived in the same place for a long time, worked in radio and music retail, and I often end up sitting behind merchandise tables at concerts and festivals, and occasionally someone I wrote about will give me a shoutout from the stage. So people walk up and vent. They're upset because Artist X didn't come out for the autograph session,  Artist Y hasn't updated his website in three years, or Artist Z set up an online chat, and it crashed and kicked everyone out of the chat room five minutes in. Someone has an encounter with a surly security guy or a mean-spirited person who said he worked for the musician in question and was just flat out nasty (and often not on the artist's staff at all!), or hit a fake MySpace site that without the aritst's knowledge is being run by someone on a vicarious power trip. I've been on the receiving end of crossed wires myself, often with starry-eyed contest winners in tow and no backstage passes at the will call window.  There are stories from the other side too - musicians talking about fans who have become energy vampires who ask for too much attention and get hostile when it doesn't happen. Fans who try to impose their romantic fantasies on someone, sometimes even to the point of harassing their significant other. For every one of those, though, there are a thousand more whose loyalty can become productive. They produce podcasts, join street teams, do websites or help with fan club gatherings. To assume every fan is a potential stalker is to throw all those babies out with the bathwater. Chances are that if you are an active fan, you will eventually and inadvertently dissed by someone you have a friendship or working relationship with. They may have new “people” who do not know you, or someone who was supposed to deliver a message may have either not done it or done it wrong. The artist probably doesn't know anything about it at all.

Some musicians feel comfortable with a lot of interaction. They participate in online forums and chats, they blog, and even answer private emails. A few are cutting edge enough to be creating additional ways to share with their fans. Others don't feel comfortable with this level of contact, and some would prefer to stay as far from the internet as they can. Every artist has to decide how much they want to do and weigh that against how much they realistically can do, then work within those boundaries and let people know what they are. It's better to do nothing at all than have a homepage full of plugs for things that don't happen, and better to not imply direct contact than list contacts if those who do make contact are going to be ignored.

I think not having an updated website is suicidal. On the other hand if fans encounter too many bells and whistles that don't work or “coming ups” that don't happen they will get frustrated and quit stopping by so in most cases less is more. I think anyone who believes they are such a star that they are  above any type of interaction with their fans, is a dinosaur headed for extinction.  I would urge that artists stay aware of who is representing them and how they are being represented. There are always ways to set boundaries without treating people badly. But that's just one person's opinion.  Everyone out there - musicians, media and fans - will have to explore this new territory and see what works best on an individual basis.

We all need our space, but in terms of survival there are places where our spaces overlap. Right now we are making it up as we go and we need to do this with a lot of creativity, empathy and understanding. After all, people do get tired and sometimes they have other things they really have to do. But we're all in this together too.

Alice Walker's essay “This That I Offer You” appears in the collection “Anything You Love Can Be Saved: A Writer's Activism.”

- Shannon West