Fanfic writers get no respect

March 7th, 2010

Okay, some of it’s deserved. There are lots of people who want to write who have no clue about grammar, spelling, punctuation or story-telling. Some are beyond hope. Some will never be able to write; grocery lists are stretching their capabilities. Many of them find fanzine publication, and many grow to think they’re SOMEBODY at last; there their immortal words are, in solid book-style form, and a heady feeling it is. I know this feeling. I know it’s not like professional publishing for a number of reasons, not least of which is editing is usually sloppy at best.

But there are gems among the sewage and fanfiction is a good place to stretch one’s abilities and learn the craft of writing. And it is a craft, no mistake, even if the gift is there.

Fanfic writers are a quirky lot, by and large, and I include myself. Our egos can get out of hand. Some fanfic writers have an enlarged sense of their own importance. Some of us think because our fellow writers and fans of our work have applauded us, We Can Do No Wrong. Much of this perceived ego, however, is actually a disguise for fragility. Most of the writers who do not expand to original writing have a real problem with actual, real criticism. This isn’t just a function of being in a closed world of Someone Else’s Universe; one sees it in crafters v. fine artists, in crochet v. knitters, in sewing v. design and sewing, and many other creative endeavors. Most people want to create. In an ideal world, everyone’s free to, but lord and lady, some of us have no talent. Some people who love to sing have no ear. (My father was one of those. I loved his voice, throaty and deep, but the man couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it. It was years before I found out Abdul Abulbul Amir had a tune. He had the sense to not want to sing in concert, however. Some people never learn this.)

So it goes. But as I say, there are gems. At the worst, it does no harm and provides a creative outlet. At its best, it can teach the craft. There are professional writers’ groups who do teach, such as the coveted Clarion West Workshop, but most of these are beyond the financial affording of the average fanfic writer. The worst danger in fanfic, in my never-to-be-humble opinion, is the myopia of thinking one has crafted something wonderful while in truth, the story has gotten lost in the excitement of creative frenzy. And this is where fanfic has its greatest danger: writers who say they want criticism when what they really want is for someone to tell them how wonderful they are.

It’s a trap easy to fall into. There’s another, the other jaw of the bite, if you will, the fear of stepping out to the rejection of mainstream literature and mainstream publishers. You’ve polished your baby, and dressed it in  a gorgeous dress, and many, many people have told you how lovely it is, and you’re afraid to send it out into the world where someone might say, “Sure, I’ll buy it. And let me lop off this here, and change its clothes, and gods, that funny haircut must go!” and before you know it some editor has taken charge and cut some of your favorite Purple Prose. It’s not your baby anymore. (Welcome to the Real World.) Or someone in publishing may send you the polite rejection that underneath the polite “not suitable for us at this time” tells you, “Who are you kidding, you, a writer? Go back to grocery lists, honey, You Ain’t Got No Talent.”

Likely will, many times.

Yes, it takes years to get published. One very talented writer I know online, who has gotten co-written or stuff published and self-written stories published said she has a ms. she’s been schlepping around for five years. And you aren’t going to get rich becoming a writer or an author. I know many a Nebula award winning author who works for a living aside from their well-deserved awards. Very few writers make a living at their novel writing, fewer yet get rich. The odds are against you. And me.

Which may be part of the reason why some  longtime fanfic writers with real story-telling talent don’t want to venture beyond their comfort zone.  They have their awards from the community, and their own levels of recognition. They make no money, but their writing is for love and for the passion for the universe they’ve borrowed, and its creatures. Sometimes it’s to say “What happened after the Canon Story was told.” Sometimes it’s to see woman-centered erotica (and make no mistake, slash is woman centered erotica in its purest form, even though usually the characters are two males and sometimes men write it and/or read it.)  Sometimes writing fanfic is how one validates one’s own talents, which one is sometimes unsure of. (Am I really brilliant, or just insane?)  And sometimes it’s simply an expression of writing in its purest form. “I write because I have to write.”

Why then not write original characters?

Some do go on to do this. Some who do try to hide their fanfic roots. I see this in artists and writers both. Some go to fringe publishing or self-publishing. Personally I have less respect for self-publishing than I do for fanfic fanzine publishing, because a fanzine editor can still reject one’s story or novel. (And sometimes they should.)

Rare is the writer who says, “Yes, I did this. Yes, I did this and wrote slash. Yes, I did this and went on to sell to mainstream sf  (and that I can type “mainstream sf” when there was a time when there was no such thing is sometimes a thing of great amazement to me.)

In the meantime, there’s me. Yeah, it always comes back to me. Why? Not really ego, but more because I have experience in how my writing has begun to shape itself. I look back on my first ventures–which are on my page, linked to the front page–and some of them are really terrible. Some of them, not so bad. One or two, brilliant. Some is finely crafted. So you get my fanfic, warts and all.

My fanzine work is new enough that it’s not yet up, but it will be, it will be. Actually, some of it is old enough, but I need to get another Round Tuit. And some extra hours in the day.

And I’m still working on Original Stuff. The germ of it came from another writer, a talented lady with whom I had a falling out. I won’t discuss that except to say some of the best of the collaborating was exhilerating and heady stuff, and therein was a danger–a fanfic novella that wound up published likely shouldn’t have been. I was proud of that for the first few days, then started seeing editing that needed doing. Argh! And storyline and plotholes that should have been spackled before publication. Again, ARGH! But for what it was, it was fun while I did it.

A writer can fall in love with hir own words. This is why we need editors. We need people who are not afraid to tell us our Purple Prose is too purple. We need reining in sometimes. Writers hate editors. (I have edited, and editing is a skill as well, quite different from the craft of writing. And sometimes more thankless.) But EVERY writer needs editors. Bar none. We may not agree as writers with our editors–but it’s good to have them look at our work.

Because as one of my writer friends says, “If one person says you’re an ass, that’s an opinion. But if twenty people tell you you’re an ass, it’s time to shop for a saddle.” Having someone not in love with your work look at it is gold. Having someone fall in love with it after reading is worth the possible pain of rejection.

But if you start in fanfic and you are not going to venture out beyond it, don’t let the pro writers look down on you. If you’re a slash writer don’t let the other fanfic writers look down on you. Enjoy it for what it is. If it’s only a creative outlet for you, and having less than a hundred readers enjoy it, that’s good. That may be excellent. It may be all you want is your name (or nym) in print.

And if you go out into Real World writing and authoring, be proud of your roots. I am. I may not be writing the K/S that taught me I have a gift, and then taught me how to craft a story, but I’m still reading it. I’m still trying to encourage other writers. Because fanfic is a genre all its own, and fanfic writers are a powerful group of people–mostly women–who craft feminist erotica, empowering fiction which gives us a voice.

And those of us who craft K/S have evolved from the roots of K/S and said, “There is a future world where people have full civil rights and acceptance of those rights including marriage, whether they are gay, straight, bisexual, gender-neutral, transgender, pansexual, with or without disability, or even intraspecies-related. And look, here are two very strong heroic manly men who have the hots for each other–but not only that, they are friends AND lovers. Deal with it.”

So it’s also a valuable social thermometer too. Women’s sexuality has always been second fiddle to men’s. And sexuality in the US has always been a thing we as a culture have been both fascinated with and horrified by. That’s a post for another time, but fanfic deals with these issues and more…and most important, is story-telling at its purest. Ted Sturgeon used to say that story telling (paraphrased here, from memory) was about putting the hero’s butt in a trap in the first part and spending the rest of the story getting it out. That’s the essence, but there’s more to it.

Fanfic writers are venturing into the muddy field and learning the craft. Let’s applaud them for owning their own creativity, not look down on them because they’re doing it with safety wheels first.

For some of us, the wheels come off. But we never forget our first ride.

Forwarded emails

March 6th, 2010

Well, here’s where my posts start getting a little meatier. I was on a favorite mailing list the other day and someone posted a forwarded email. Now I’m not talking spam or phishing–my whitelist has cut those down to practically zero. And I’m not going to name names or which email but this is the type.

It’s supposed to be funny. Says stuff about welfare and how no one can get it if they aren’t born lazy, don’t know their fathers, colored darker than some of us, and how well-deserving and presumably lighter colored people who work and know their full parentage can’t get government help. And of course the implication is that people on welfare are of color, are lazy, are stupid, are bastards in the legal sense, and living high off your tax dollars.

Now I’m not going to say there aren’t people milking the system. Of course there are. There always are going to be some people who milk the system. But…I was on welfare when my kids were small and I could not work. Was I well-off? Heck no. I could pay my rent only because rents in those days were fairly low in most parts of Seattle. But I had to scramble for quarters for the laundromat. I had to shop very smart (yeah, I know that’s not correct grammar, sue  me) in order to feed my kids on around a hundred or so bucks’ food stamps. I had to babysit under the table to have any kind of money left at the end of the month (and we are talking five or ten bucks, here, not much) and sometimes buy my kids snow boots or rain boots or sandals for summer or even thrift shop clothes. I”m pretty sure not much has changed except it’s harder for single parents to get welfare, now called “Temporary Aid for Needy Families” and capped. For a lifetime.

So the email is mean-spirited. There’s a lot of that going around. Not all of it is against poor people. Some those emails assume everyone is Christian. Now I know a lot of fine Christians who don’t try to convert me, but do try to follow their Christ. Fine. But the assumption there is that if you are Christian and you don’t forward this email (whichever it is) to everyone you’re not a True Christian ™. Nevermind that the Christians have been duking THAT argument out for two thousand years or so. I mean which one of them is the Real Deal. And the other assumption is that every worthwhile person is going to be a Christian. Ya know, not everyone on the Net is. Some of us are pagans–and very religious. Some of us are atheist. Some are Jews and Muslims and other types of Peoples of the Abrahamic faiths. There are Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists of many flavors, Bah’ais, New Agers, and those who don’t feel the need to have or share any kind of religious belief, as well as numberless other pathways. And we tend to not want to make waves, but every bit of email we get that implies this kind of thing grates.

Then there’s the knee-jerk USA patriotism. Hey, I live in this country. I was born here. But my mother was Australian born, a war bride (WW2 that was) and my father born and raised in farm country, Potter Valley, California. Before him, most of our family was immigrants to one country or another. We don’t choose where we’re born. I have a brother who lives and is a citizen of Canada. If someone invaded the US, disabled or not, I’d want to be fighting for her. I value the ideals we have, not always lived up to. But.

I hate knee-jerk ANYTHING. I’m not a flag-waver just to get along with the crowd. It ain’t the flag, folks, but the Constitution the flag is a symbol of which is important.

Yes, honor the services. Volunteer men and women all, many of them give their lives and or limbs or health to serve, in return for a smallish wage and clothes (uniforms) and some well-earned benefits–if they live to claim them and Congress doesn’t gut them before they qualify. But remember, folks, war should be a last resort, not a “glorious first” of any kind. And opposing a war some of us see as illegal and immoral is not the opposite of patriotism and it’s not a condemnation of the services. It’s the epitome of what the US is supposed to be founded upon.

And remember, the Internet is international. We have, in Pogo’s words, “met the enemy, and they is us” in a very real way, along with friends and allies. Humans are a quarrelsome species. We foul our own nest, and then argue over whose sewage doesn’t stink. Well, guess what, folks, it all does. Mine, yours, theirs and ours. We aren’t all going to get along, whether it be politics, food, religion, favorites in foods, colors, actors, hobbies, whatever.  But we can minimize the frictions by less resort to mean-spiritedness and a little more recognition that in the words of the fictional Surak

Cherish our differences, folks. And quit circulating emails which do an “Us against Them” theme as its main focus.

Oh, and quit sending me stuff that is easily checked on snopes –and implies that if I don’t I’ll get hives and I hate Jesus. Oh, and Disneyland will fail.

(And a quick clarification. The folks that send these are not mean-spirited, and usually they’re posted to mailing lists these days but they arrive to those folks via email. And they don’t think before they post ‘em, when they themselves get a chuckle. And let me say I am not highly Politically Correct. I laugh at political incorrectness. I laugh at death and black humor and my chronic pain. I’m not easily offended. I’m just sayin’ enough is sometimes too much.)

Please.

That is all.

Unrelated. My weatherpixie is down–but I did find out Tamsin, the wonderful woman who makes them, is having server problems, which should be resolved soon. So I’m not going to remove the broken link, trusting that eventually it will work again.

Also unrelated: Migraines suck. Having not enough migraine meds because Evercare has cut them (poor people can be in pain, it’s okay, we don’t count) sucks even worse. Don’t get Evercare as your medigap or medicaid provider. They are part of (in)Secure Horizons and they suck AND blow. I am still researching to find a better provider. I think that really is all.

Friday already!

March 5th, 2010

Week running by. Rent is paid. Have a ton of stuff to do, not least of which is to write. Now that I’m no longer distracted as much by the predicament of another disabled friend with guardian issues (which for privacy reasons I can’t go into right now, but will probably blog about later) I will hope the muse comes back. I will, no doubt, have to prod her or sacrifice something chocolate, or both.

In the meantime, the world goes on. And on. Haiti is still trying to recover from its disaster–and will need assistance for some time to come. PEACE (thepeacefund.org ) is helping there, so if you want to donate, feel free to. Chile, with better infrastructure, is coming through its quake much more prepared.

And I will tackle meatier issues in the time to come. I promise.

In the meantime, I hope everyone stays well. I’ve had friends hospitalized, friends die, friends suffer homelessness, and lots of other nastiness this winter. Here’s hoping this year will be a good springtide. My violets are blooming, at least. That is a plus.

I’ll try to blog more during the weekend.

I need to update more often

March 2nd, 2010

Been a long winter but it looks like it’s nearly over. Thank goodness.

Hey, any of y’all want to find me on Facebook, I’m Celeste deSchatten there. Long story short, was going to be my pen name. I’ve settled on Astrid Varjo (Varjo is Finnish for shadow–hence, Starshadow.) But Facebook does not like Starshadow nor any variant thereof. They want real names. There is no one to explain to that Starshadow IS my real name. They have really good software to ensure people don’t use nyms. So it has to LOOK like a real name. And my real name doesn’t. I’ve tried sending emails offering to prove it’s my real name but no one ever looks at email there, apparently.

So for now, I’m stuck with Celeste deSchatten. Which looks real, but isn’t. Feh.

Anyway, here I am on my new to me laptop, trying not to hit the wrong keys on a smallish keyboard. Nearly full sized, but I keep hitting something with part of my hand which tries to insert letters a few lines back. Dunno what it is but it’s annoying.

Unfortunately, as a touch typist, I can’t watch and repeat the mistake. Another “feh.”

But hey, find me on Facebook. I’ll try to write some insightful articles sometimes here. On twitter, I’m starshadow666.

Happy March, everyone. Soon it will be orange Irish day. No, orange and green. For reconciliation.

I’ll be wearing both.

Christmas is over

December 27th, 2009

As usual, thanks to the family, I made out like a fat rat. When did slippers and socks get to be an exciting gift? I remember one Christmas morning one package got labeled for me accidentally that was actually for my father. I must’ve been about –um–I wanna say nine or ten, not sure. Anyway, the package was a bunch of white socks, the kind Daddy wore, and Mum said, shamefacedly, it got mislabeled. I wasn’t too upset, because that year I got a number of gifts (though what they were I cannot now say) but I remember thinking that socks for Christmas was a terrible gift.

And here I am happy with mine.

I also got clothes, tops and a nice warm cardigan, some art supplies and some money which is pretty much gone now for ink.

Oh, and tea, and a hot air popcorn popper–that will be my snack treat when I start, in spring, to decide I need to lose some of the pounds that are not helping my body’s utter revolt against itself.

Facebook has sucked me in. I’m there under the nym Celeste deSchatten which was going to be my pen name. Now, mind you, my pen name is not for purposes of hiding my illustrious fanfic slash past. It is simply and solely to get two salable looking names on a cover. It may change. I am not entirely happy with “Celeste deSchatten” but not yet inclined to change it…will decide soon, I guess. Maybe Astrid desOmbres or something like it. I kind of like Astrid. Hmm, wonder if I could find something in Swedish or Norwegian that means “of shadow” and not too impossible to say?

We’ll see.

On the book front. Nearly finished purging most of my former co-writer’s contributions (which are mainly some characters’ names, a lot of words for plants and animals, and some other words and such, plus the concept of the flying horses and the title that appended to them) from the first novel nearly complete in the Cerean saga, formerly Hyperion. I was never entirely happy with Hyperion simply because Dan Simmons has a fantasy novel series out with that title, and I wish to avoid confusion. So it’s changed to “Ceres.”

What I’ve kept is one character’s name in particular–one I pretty much fleshed out from bare-bones, and so the end result is nearly all mine, in the end. I could wish my former friend’s and my collusion had ended on a better note, but it did not, and so I must continue as I feel I must and make this vision truly my own. I believe I’m gaining a better product in the end, thereby, so I suppose all is as it should be.

On pain: I don’t know if I overdid my errands or socializing or what but yesterday in particular my body was on pain overload. Rarely do I hit a ten–it’s usually more like a three to six level. But yesterday was a ten, shoulders, neck, back, hips, knees, arms, hands, legs and foot tops–a combo of fibro and of arthritis.

Last night was take as much tylenol and methocarbamol (a muscle relaxant) as possible, smear myself with “stinky stuff” otherwise known as Mentholatum Rub (and boy does it stink) and go to bed with a heating pad. Today my arms and the tops of my feet still hurt.

And somehow, I think I’ve managed to break or crack a tiny bone in my middle phalange near the webbing. I noticed it last night when I was typing, because the skin over my knuckles was darker, and I traced it to a bruise over the bone, which, when gently pressed, yielded the kind of pain I associate with a broken bone. Thank goodness it isn’t a place which will impact my typing, and there’s nothing to be done for it except let it heal, but it’s an odd place to break and I wonder how I did it.

The really great thing that has happened this year is reconnecting with old friends. Pam, Ann, Kjell, and a number of others. Relatives–my nephew, my niece, my great-niece, my cousin, my brother (well, we never lost touch but we didn’t talk much over the years.) My younger daughter. Online friends I’ve also known for years–Godfrey, in the Caymans. So many others.

It’s a blessing to be surrounded by so many that I love and who love me.

I hope all of you have a wonderful New Year to come, and may we see fewer of the troubles of 2009 rise up and greet us as we fare ever onward.

Blessings to all of you.

Nearly Solstice

December 18th, 2009

Went to Veg of Wa dinner last night, got to friend one of the Usual Suspects, a very nice fellow who has been kind enough to bring me some books which are very useful to a writer, from time to time. Very nice man. He has an iPhone, which is a great toy. Thinks I should write aps for it. Not my thing, but I may mention it to my wife. Might bring in some shekels.

About a third of the way through rereading my ms. of my first nearly-done novel, making sure I change the words that might have belonged to my former co-writer. The work was all mine, but she contributed some of the words, and those which do not fit my vision (most, actually) are being changed.

I’m keeping a few, but of the ones I’m keeping, I developed the backstory on them for the most part and fleshed out the bare-bones concepts, so I feel good about that direction.

Month is just streaming by. Redoing  my hardcopy glossary which is a lot of work, because I have to cover/remove old terms, but I think it’ll pay off in the books when I write more, so I’m gritting my teeth and just doing it.

On the plus side, am exchanging editing with a few people–barter works well for us poverty-stricken would be pro writers. One day I expect to have the “would-be” removed from that appelation, for all of us. We’re all gifted in those creative juices, and wouldn’t it be nice if all the hard work paid off in readership,publication, and even gelt? One day, maybe not too distantly in the future–with my body I feel like I’m galloping against time constraints and who knows how long the Fates have spun my thread.

But while I’m here, what a ride! Even the not so great parts are all grist for the writer’s mill.

Pain levels were at an all-time high early this week, but have leveled downward to manageable.

And by tomorrow, all those who did not get or are not going to get mailed out cards will have e-cards in their inbox, I hope.

Blessed Be!

Well, it’s December

December 10th, 2009

2009 almost gone..

Been an eventful year. Gained friends, lost friends. Some through death. Some through …well, let’s just say while all writers are crazy, some, apparently, are bugfuck crazy in a way that does not encourage keeping close ties.

Chalk it all up to a learning experience, however. And I suppose those should Not Be Missed. Or something.

Is not all bad. Had me some good times this year.

But what’s up with all the comment spam? I just had to kill better than a hundred “comments” which basically are from IPs which spam some bot trying to look like a real person. They tell some awful and corny punnish jokes, they are stupid, stupid, stupid, beyond stupid, and they’re trying to get people to click through to their viagra or cialis or how to make money fast or whatnot garbage. And I dunno if everyone’s blog is set up this way on wordpress, but MINE is set up so that every single comment  must be approved before it gets posted. I won’t delete negative comments from real people. But all of these are bots.

They’ll never get through.

But boy, is it annoying!

Hope everyone’s up for the holiday season. I’m trying to enjoy it for what it is now for me–family and friend time. Was a time when it was pure magic. But I guess I’m gettin’ older and more tired.
Oh, well. At least I’m decorating my Farmville farm.

Hope to post more later this month.

I am very bad moody

July 15th, 2009

Not quite sure why, but it has to do partly with feeling curmudgeonly. I also feel like I really don’t get this human interaction thing. It’s something to do with my Asperger’s, I think, because other Aspies mention not picking up on social cues. It leaves me, when someone rejects communication, feeling like it’s somehow my fault. Many times the other person assures me it’s not, but at last three-quarters of the time they are doing what’s called “social lies.” They say this but it’s not true. So how am I supposed to know when it’s really true?

Sometimes I think the best idea for me to handle it is to just gently disentangle the threads of human connection from mine. No one would really miss me. This doesn’t mean I want to suicide, not at all. I just don’t feel like I will ever get over the twin feelings of neediness and personal rejection, and they really hurt when they come up. If I could find a cave with delivery and internet access, not to mention a ready supply of funds to keep up with what little I really need, that would be a really good solution. But that’s not possible either.

Will I ever get the hang of this whole trying to reach out thing without the other person feeling like I’m clinging to them nagging at them or otherwise being a pain in the tuchis without actually feeling like they can be honest and TELL me? They hang on until the resentment explodes and I’m left sort of bewildered, wondering what is WRONG with me that I don’t get it, the ordinary cues that ordinary people pick up and I just don’t.

It makes it worse that they are kind to me before the blow up. And then I feel like I should never have accepted their help or the gifts they’ve given.

So what to do? Will I ever get it or should I just give up trying?

June is almost gone

June 27th, 2009

Hopefully this will let me type and see what I’m typing.

It’s not unless I highlight it. I don’t know why. Technology is suddenly only partly my friend.

I am on twitter as starshadow666 if anyone wants to follow me.

More later if this thing ever works for me again. h

May is passing fast

May 23rd, 2009

And I’ve been rather preoccupied.

Still writing Chapter Nineteen. Just finished beta reading a wonderful big, thick and long K/S AU tale by Jeanne Marie Sosa, and  www.agentwithstyle.com is going to print it. It’s called Hunger For Mercy and it’s simply fabulous–when it’s available, if you love K/S buy it. You won’t regret it.

More tomorrow. I think I’m going to bed early; gotta get up and do laundry, but there is more art up at redbubble–follow the link on my front page, or just go to www.redbubble.com/people/starshadow  and enjoy.

I thought I’d gone ahead and posted this, as I wrote it a few days ago. A week. Mmm…

Finished chapter nineteen, working on twenty. Got my little SS stimulus money and so far have gotten art materials and a new swimsuit at Ross. Why are fat women’s swimsuits so damn UGLY? We’re already going to look like whales; why do we have to be polka dotted or loud tropical print whales? This one is tiny white polka dots on navy blue with a skirted bottom, a two piece thing. Oh, well. I guess I just live with the whale in polka dots look–for fifteen bucks (originally over fifty) I can’t complain too much.
There’s a post last month that is being hit by spammers galore. Comments are set to be approved, and if I find one in queue I go there immediately and approve if it’s a Real Person. These bots are a bit more savvy–they say complimentary things, hoping to get blanket approval for after spam–but what they don’t know is that ALL comments go in the queue.

Most of them are sellers of viagra-likes. Pfftt.

Okay, let me tell y’all again…if you want to support my hope of making money, please if you go buy from Amazon, simply go to it through one of my links at the bottom of posts, then search for what you’re buying and buy it. I’ll get somethin’ to help me stay afloat and you won’t have  had to donate or buy art to do it. But why wouldn’t you want art I did? Heh.

Back to my Saturday.  Pool will be open soon and I’m farken READY. It’s even warm weather this Memorial Day weekend.

And while y’all are picnicking or barbecueing or what not, take a few minutes to remember what Memorial Day really is. It ain’t just the start of summer. It’s a day to remember the men and women in the services whose lives were the payment for what we all enjoy in the US of A and indeed in most of the Free World.

Have a great one. I’ll try to post more in June.