Pop Culture

Algorithm & Blues

After months of writing, editing, and strategizing, the internet decided it preferred me lip-syncing with my kid instead. I have questions.

Heather Papovich

19 Feb 2026 — 6 min read

What does earnest effort even mean when it seems algorithms run the show now?

Nearly a year ago, I bought myself a little patch of internet and started a website. It was meant to be a small blog - just a place to dump my thoughts and process a lot of real-life drama (some still unfolding, ‘cause the party never stops).

It has, however, evolved into an actual platform, which sounds impressive until you learn the hard way that “platform” is just a fancy way of saying you now have ten more jobs you have no experience in whatsoever.

I had NO idea how much more it would be beyond “just” writing.

There are coding things you don’t understand, fixing things you didn’t even break, paying for tools you didn’t know you needed, and Googling things like, "Why are this week's analytics exploding with bots from somewhere definitely not in Wisconsin?"

You've got SEO, marketing, site tweaking, product development, pitching, networking, and endless little decisions that feel all big and important until you realize nobody even knows you’re making them.

And of course, the oft-used tool of social media for connection and promotion in a space where introverts like me prefer lurking from the shadows.

Some days you feel like you’re treading water instead of gaining momentum. It can be frustrating at times, and all you can do is keep taking blind leaps of faith in order to keep going.

But we do it because we love the challenge, and we believe in the work, right?

And because the analytics don't lie (I hope), I recently (finally) took another blind leap and started a TikTok account for my site. The reality is, artistic success eventually requires a willingness to be a little cringy and put yourself out there.

I’m a writer. I HAAAATE the concept of making a video of myself with my phone. HATE it. I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of person, hence the medium I chose as my outlet.

I don’t know why it feels so uncomfortable.
Actually, yes, I do. It feels invasive. Like you’re exposing yourself.

Now, I’ve done a couple of reaction vids on my daughter's page, which felt safe. I could pop in, be mildly amusing, and disappear again. But creating videos on my OWN page felt much more…uncomfortable? Complicated? Out of character, perhaps.

So, I did what any reasonable person does when trying to avoid discomfort: I posted photo slides instead. It felt safer and like I had more control over the process. The results were…meh. My best one got around 1,600 views, but no real engagement.

The algorithm, however, prefers video.

So I procrastinated and told myself I had more important things to learn, which IS technically true. It’s also avoidance.

I’m nothing if not somewhat self-aware.

Then, just a few nights ago, after a long, crazy day, right as I was about to go for an after-dinner walk with The Balkan Storm, my daughter said ‘Hey, come do a TikTok with me real quick.”

No way, I’d said. I was a mess - no make-up on, hair doing its own thing, wearing my comfiest baggy sweater (i.e., not flattering).

She said, “Oh, just come do this real quick, it's FINE. Nobody’s gonna see it anyway.”

Yeah.

As of this publication date, that video has over a quarter of a million views, 60 thousand likes, and thousands of shares and saves. Thousands.

What did we do?

I lip-synced about thirty seconds of Salt-N-Pepa’s Shoop while she watched me with mixed reactions.

Seriously, that was it.

A throwaway moment that had no planning or carefully engineered hook designed to drive metrics. We were just...goofing off!

I’ve spent a year writing, learning, optimizing, and questioning every life choice…and this is what takes off?

Don't get me wrong, I’m beyond thrilled that so many people are enjoying it so much – I’m just at a complete loss as to why.

Last weekend, I got to hear author and speaker Carlos Whitaker; he began by talking about a family video of his that went massively viral years ago.

His takeaway was that people crave authenticity. Which, yeah, but I think it’s a little more complex than that.

Of course, I believe people crave authenticity. I know I do, and I strive for that every time I sit down to write.

But writing is still just that: writing. Even if it’s painfully honest, it’s been thought out. I constantly check myself and cut the parts where I’m rambling (which is often) to help make my actual point.

That doesn’t mean it's fake; it’s just been refined with good intentions.

A thirty-second video in a schlubby sweater doesn’t have that sort of effort or refinement.

And the weird thing is, authenticity has kind of become its own category online. Everyone talks about “keeping it real,” but a lot of times it looks like a carefully planned version: bad acting, camera shots that definitely took multiple takes, everything timed perfectly for peak engagement.

I'm not criticizing - that's just the reality of publicly creating. The second you know you’re being watched, some level of performance sneaks in. It’s human nature.

What I think I do differently (or at least what I try to do differently) is start with the story instead of the reaction. Writing always lets me think it through first.

I can sit with an idea for as long as I need to figure out what I actually mean before I post it to the internet. The video, on the other hand, had none of that.

There was literally no intention beyond “fine, I’ll do this real quick so my daughter stops asking.” And maybe that's part of why it worked.

I learned this week that algorithms don’t reward effort.

I am now fully aware that one unplanned thirty-second clip will outperform three weeks of overthinking. I do not have to like this reality to acknowledge it.

They reward moments.
And moments usually happen when you stop trying so hard to create them.

Which is both infuriating and strangely comforting.

Because it means all of this unseen work of writing, learning, and tweaking is important. But it also means sometimes people just want to see a fellow human doing something a little ridiculous on a whim with their kid on a random Saturday night.

What I'm seeing in the comments is interesting, though. A lot of people aren't just reacting to the video, but to the song. Many are talking about their memories of their moms, their childhoods, car rides... overall, a simpler, easier time of life, all tied to that song for different reasons.

Which means this little throwaway moment may have tapped into something bigger than I realized. And from what I can tell, that’s important too.

So I’m taking the hint.. I’ll keep on writing and experimenting and (begrudgingly) showing up on video.

I will say this much: I loved that moment when it happened, and I'm enjoying it even more now knowing it has sparked something for so many others.

That connection is why I started all of this in the first place. It's what makes those obstacles worth it. I don't take that for granted.

If you want to see what the algorithm decided to run with this week, you can judge for yourself here.

I also still have no idea what I’m doing over there – I barely have it together here. But if you’re already over there and have thoughts on what you'd actually like to see next, I’m listening. (You can find me on TikTok:@justunfinishedbusiness.)

Just know there’s zero guarantee I’ll be camera-ready when it happens. As I’ve learned the hard way, the best moments tend to happen when you least expect them anyway.

And the algorithm can do with that what it will.

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