Wow, this got
really long. I guess I had a lot more to say about it than I initially thought. :)
Looking back on my fannish history, I realize that I was creating a smattering of fan-content years before I knew what to call it, and likely dismissed it as "just playing."
- It began when I was seven or eight years old, and received an NES for Christmas. Though it was technically for me, my parents and cousins quickly took to it, as well, and video games soon became a family affair, and trips to the video store were frequent. (Those were quite an adventure back then, since the only indicator of what a game was about was the information on the back of the box. Interesting choices were made. XD)
- In what was perhaps my first piece of fan content, my cousin and I designed a board game based on Super Mario Bros. 2. It was a meandering trail of squares across a poster board, with little illustrations of locales and enemies, and plenty of hyperbolic text to warn of dangers lurking ahead. We even incorporated my cats into the story – in particular, my snippy seal-point Siamese, Trixie, who stood guard outside Wart's chamber (she might have even breathed fire; I can't entirely recall).
- A few years later, I got an SNES, and was properly introduced to video game storytelling. My first experience with this was in A Link to the Past, where suddenly, I wasn't staying up way too late just to clear another level, but instead, to save poor maidens trapped in crystals. The little cinematic flourishes, like opening the swamp palace or Ganon's Tower, blew my little mind, and I was hooked.
- This was also the first time I ever cried during a video game. Playing the flute boy's song and watching him transform into a tree was devastating, especially considering his last words: "Please let me hear the sound of the flute, one last time." One last time. My tender heart shattered.
- (My mother, on the other hand, simply muttered that he shouldn't have wandered into the Dark World to begin with. XD)
My first significant video game fannish experience came soon afterward, when I developed an intense attachment to The Illusion of Gaia (or Time, depending on where you are). I loved the inclusion of real-world locations, the mystery of the Mystic Statues and the crystal rings, and yes, even the burgeoning, hazily-defined relationship between Will and Kara. I replayed this game over and over, memorizing lines of dialogue, collecting Red Jewels, trying to map Mt. Kress (I took the "cartographers will succeed where others fail" line from the manual literally), and crying over Hamlet.
- And then there was the music! In another first for me, I fell in love with a video game soundtrack. I remember crouching in front of the TV, angling my tape recorder toward the speakers, and trying to keep as still as possible as I recorded the (relatively lengthy) ending theme to play over and over at my leisure.
- I even tried to adapt the story into a stage play. I really don't have any idea why, other than that I was a total drama nerd at the time, and probably just wanted to combine my two most burning passions. XD
Several months before I played Illusion of Gaia, during the summer between sixth and seventh grades, I also discovered anime. Specifically, Sailor Moon – more specifically, the much-derided dub that ran on TV at the time. It didn't matter. It was the first time I had encountered an animated show with episodic storytelling. I stumbled across it one morning, and soon became hooked. I spent the rest of my vacation waking up at 6 am (the network did not adjust its programming for time zones, apparently), just to find out what would happen next. Unfortunately, once school started again, I prioritized an extra hour of sleep over Sailor Moon's adventures. But it left its mark, and set my imagination on fire. I drew girls in similar outfits, and gave them their own unique powers, partly as a way to expand on the glimpse of the show's universe I'd gotten, and party because, somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt conflicted about using an existing property for my own creative purposes.
- (This was, might I reiterate, before my Illusion of Gaia fangirling. I apparently had no problem turning existing properties into scripts of my own, then! XD)
And then, there was a break. Partly due to lack of time as I entered high school, and partly due to the desire to fit in. At the time, at least in my community, video games and anime were still seen as primarily boys' interests, and those girls who persisted in publicly sharing their love for them also had to socially arm themselves with a boatload of confidence (manufactured or not), and a healthy devil-may-care attitude. I had neither, and I seriously regret that.
After high school and a failed attempt at starting college, I drifted aimlessly for quite a few years. I worked part-time jobs, and slowly began to dip my toes back into fandom. I discovered Legend of Zelda fanfic, and got particularly interested in a rather dark take on Link's story, but I never considered producing any content for it, myself. I also slowly got back into anime, and discovered series that I absolutely adored – Witch Hunter Robin, Haibane Renmei, Mushi-shi, Fantastic Children. And then, I got back into video games, with Final Fantasy VIII.
- I had never felt such an intense attachment to a group of characters as I did to the FF8 cast. They made me laugh, they made me cry, they made me angry, they broke my heart. I will admit that I was just a puddle of tears during Rinoa's time in space, and the fact that I initially failed to catch her and was "rewarded" with a message saying that she was lost forever, only made the scene that much more intense for me.
I couldn't get enough. For the first time, I joined a message board, and shared in discussions of the Final Fantasy series. I played other installments and found more characters to love. I scoured the internet for fanart of my favorites and saved so many pieces to my computer. I pored over any and all info on FF8 that I could find, dissected character personalities and motivations, discussed story points and filled in parts that left me confused or dissatisfied. I was beginning to spin stories for these characters in my head, but the reluctance I'd felt during my Summer of Sailor Moon returned.
But now I had a name for it: guilt. I had always been a creative person, and frequently wrote original stories (well, original in the sense that the characters and settings were my own; they were definitely heavily influenced by other media I'd consumed). Writing stories about existing characters and worlds felt like using a creative crutch. It felt like cheating. It felt like admitting that I was not the creative individual I claimed to be. It felt like failure.
Another break, when I finally got around to college. This time, however, the distance between me and my fannish pursuits widened, mainly due to snobbery, on my part. I regret the years wasted.
But that snobbery got knocked right out of me during a particularly rough six-year period, during which I lost my father, developed anxiety and panic attacks (which resulted in several very expensive visits to the ER out of uncertainty), took on caregiving duties for my mother and aunt as they recovered from a car accident (while working full-time), and washed out of grad school a few weeks into my first semester. During this time, I began to gravitate toward the things that had brought me joy and comfort in the past. I spent my spare moments revisiting my favorite shows and games, clinging to them like a toddler to its blanket.
By 2017, the downward slide had stopped, but I was exhausted. Having relocated for grad school, I found a good-paying, if low-status, job in the city, and decided to stay. But my work schedule was (and still is) socially isolating, and I felt myself slipping into a dark place, mentally. Meanwhile, the stories of beloved characters began to swirl in my brain like never before, and keeping them inside became more distressing than any guilt I felt over using existing properties in my creative pursuits.
I spent New Year's Eve 2017 answering a call for "articles" for a project based on one of FF8's in-game magazines, and outlining a few little fics that had been nibbling at the corners of my mind.
A few days later, I dove right into fandom, submitting the articles and setting up my FFN and Tumblr accounts. Being able to share these stories with people who loved the characters and the world as much as I did was such a relief. And seeing the creativity of all of these fans was a revelation for me: fanwork is just as creatively demanding, and rewarding, as original work. It is by no means a crutch; it is a love letter to the properties that have brought us joy, brought us comfort, the properties that have intrigued and delighted and frustrated us. The properties that have carried us through the dark, and continue to buoy us through life.
I wish I'd realized that sooner.
And, perhaps the best part of my fannish journey is that it no longer stops there. The creativity and joy I get from writing fanfiction carried over into my original work, shattering the insecurities I had about it, and allowing me to finally start on the path to becoming the writer I want to be. I am forever grateful to the existence of fandoms, and the sense of community and creativity they provide.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deemoyza
no subject
Date: 2020-01-03 11:51 pm (UTC)I feel this is a common thread that we all share.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-06 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-06 09:10 pm (UTC)(And thank you for taking the time to read through this post! I got a bit carried away with it. :) )
no subject
Date: 2020-01-12 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-12 11:53 pm (UTC)