Truth, Trends, and the Power of Representation: What Are We Writing For?
MeShanda Deason
In today’s literary and artistic landscape, two forces are shaping creative expression in opposite but deeply connected ways; the growing demand for genuine representation and the increasing pressure to create for algorithms. We're witnessing incredible boundary-pushing work from writers and artists who are expanding what representation can look like. However, social media often rewards content that is short, trendy, and easily shareable, sometimes at the expense of depth, truth, and diversity.
Representation in literature and the arts is about more than surface-level diversity or token inclusion, it’s about giving underrepresented voices the power to tell their own stories in authentic, challenging, and innovative ways. Writers like Jesmyn Ward, who captures the complexity of black southern life, Ocean Vuong, whose blend of poetry and prose explores queerness and memory, and Ling Ma, who uses speculative elements to critique capitalism, labor and alienation, demonstrate how form and content can work together to deepen representation.
Think of bell hooks, whose essays and cultural criticism insist that art and literature are not just aesthetic practices but political acts of liberation. hooks’s work, particularly on love, race, and media, redefines how modern generations understand representation, identity, and self-worth. Likewise, cartoonist Keith Knight uses humor and visual storytelling to confront racism, police brutality, and everyday microaggressions. Through comics like The K Chronicles and The Knight Life, he invites readers to laugh, reflect, and see the world differently.
These creators further prove the success of writing for truth, as it can educate and entertain simultaneously. Their success shows that when creators are allowed to speak freely, art can change how we see the world and ourselves. Furthermore, their success reminds us that diversity in literature and art isn't just aesthetically pleasing, it changes lives, opens minds, and broadens what stories are told and who gets to tell them.
At the same time, we’re living in a digital age where the algorithm has become an invisible editor. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Substack shape what kinds of writing get seen and celebrated. Writers are usually forced to ask themselves “Will this go viral?” not “What truth do I want to tell?” The result is a new kind of tension: while social media has opened doors for marginalized voices, it has also created a system that can flatten complexity in favor of catchy, digestible work.
Writing for the algorithm reshapes how we think, feel, and express truth. Because digital platforms reward immediacy, writers learn to capture attention within seconds, favoring brevity and emotional punch over nuance and patience. The algorithm amplifies what is instantly legible and reactive, so emotion becomes performance—pain and joy stylized to provoke engagement rather than reflection. As audiences grow conditioned to scroll past anything demanding depth, creators internalize these habits, mistaking visibility for value. In the age of algorithms, “you are what you eat/consume” gains new weight: every click and share refines not only what we see but how we see. Our digital diets train us to crave speed and simplicity, weakening our tolerance for complexity. The result is a feedback loop where the algorithm doesn’t just shape art or media—it shapes consciousness itself.
We see this in action on TikTok where people are constantly consuming simplified or sensationalized portrayals of love, conflict, or identity. Where people are beginning to internalize those patterns in their own lives: for example, repeatedly watching content that glamorizes toxic relationships can subtly normalize manipulation or jealousy, shaping how we approach intimacy and conflict. There is an importance to represent all types of love. However, it's important to not dilute the diversity in love representation and not glamorize the negative. Over time, readers and creators alike risk mirroring these habits, prioritizing the drama and style of what’s popular over reflection or authenticity. In this way, the media we consume doesn’t just influence taste—it molds behavior and even our sense of self, making mindfulness in consumption crucial for preserving integrity and agency.
I know how the modern age takes value in quick, easily digestible media. So, before you leave this blog page today here are a few overall recommendations for readers and creators:
1. Take a step away from social media. Reconnect with the joy of creating for yourself rather than for metrics.
2. Read and support underrepresented voices. These voices can be from small presses, literary journals, and independent artists who are redefining what art can be. This will not only entertain you and give you information about diversity, it will also inspire you to create meaningful content. Remember “You are what you eat/consume.”
3. Challenge yourself to write for truth, not trends. Ask what conversations your work adds to rather than what attention it earns. Does your truth surround sexuality, race, navigating relationships, religion, government, nature or even society as a whole?