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I was cruising through the net, following the cold trail of one of the periodic “Is or is not Fanfic the Ultimate Literary Evil?” arguments that crop up regularly, and I’m now bursting to make a point that I never see made by fic defenders.
We’re all familiar with the normal defenses of fic: it’s done out of love, it’s training, it’s for fun. Those are all good and valid defenses!
But they miss something. They damn with faint praise. Because the thing is, when you commit this particular Ultimate Literary Evil you’ve now told a story. And stories are powerful. The fact that it wasn’t in an original world or with original characters doesn’t necessarily make it less powerful to any given reader.
I would never have made this argument a few years ago. A few years ago I hadn’t received messages from people who were deeply touched by something I wrote in fanfic. So what if it’s only two or three or four people, and I used someone else’s world and characters? For those two or three or four people, I wrote something fucking important. You cannot tell me that isn’t a valid use of my time and expect me to feel chastened. I don’t buy it. I won’t feel ashamed. I will laugh when you call something that touches other people ‘literary masturbation.’ Apparently you’re not too up on your sex terminology.
Someone could argue that if I’d managed the same thing with original characters in an original world, it could’ve touched more people. They might be right! On the other hand, it might never have been accepted for publication, or found a market if self published, and more importantly I would never have written it because I didn’t realize I could write. The story wouldn’t have happened. Instead, thanks to fanfic being a thing, it did. And for two or three or four people it mattered. When we talk about defending fanfic, can we occasionally talk about that?
FANFICTION ONLY EXISTS BECAUSE OF COPYRIGHT LAW
FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, “FANFICTION” WAS JUST CALLED FICTION
You know what, I’m going to stop apologising writing Fenbela because they’re just far too much fun. Some smutty jokes, fluffy feels and general fenbela goodness.
When they’d first learned of his predicament (with some amusement, Fenris suspected, at least on Varric and Isabela’s behalfs), Varric had suggested starting him off with reading children’s tales. But Fenris was not - as he’d reminded them quite pointedly (while at the same time wondering just how drunk Isabela must have gotten Hawke to wheedle the gossip of his illiteracy from the Champion) stupid, nor was he too young to make sense of close-written script or long words; he simply did not know how to link each letter with its associated sound, was not aware of spellings or how to hold a pen.
When he had demonstrated (with painstaking embarrassment) that he could indeed handle books written for adults, it had taken all of three seconds, one spilled drink and a transferal of Isabela’s hips from Varric’s lap to Fenris’s for her to offer to teach him to read from her… personal collection.
so Charlotte Bronte read Emma by Jane Austen and was really interested in this minor character named Jane Fairfax who was poor and would have been a governess had she not married well and then Bronte wrote her own novel exploring the plight of the poor governess who married this guy named Edward Fairfax Rochester in a novel called Jane Eyre and my point is don’t let anyone tell you shit about fanfiction.
hi! With Femslash February starting, I was wondering how you feel about fanfiction? I see you've got a lot of great fanart here, but I couldn't even find fic on Archive of Our Own, which is just made for Betty adventures. Are you fine with Rat Queens fic as long as we don't tell you, or just NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE?
Go for it. Wrap yourself in homemade Betty fiction and let it keep you warm at night.
BETTY MAI WAIFU
(and Sawyer mai husubando!)
Inevitably, Carver got an earful about Merrill from his police contacts.
Fenris worked on the fringes of the force – an informant and unofficial standover man for the trafficking division, a heavy hitter whom it was good to be on the right side of. Carver respected him immensely – his pursuit of slavers was relentless and deadly – but it would perhaps be exaggerating to call his company pleasant. Strangely, given his deep-seated and genuine disapproval of drugs (which never stopped him pulling out his “happy pills” in the middle of the Hanged Man to skull them down with a glass of pinot), he was a friend of Garrett’s, and avoided shopping him to the authorities.
“Garrett tells me you’re seeing the Professor,” he said, lining up the triangle precisely. Carver rubbed a bit of chalk on the end of his cue.
“The Professor? I mean, she’s a scientist, but I don’t think she’s a professor of anything… You wanna break?”
Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someone’s lips.
Sorry it took me awhile to get to this! I hope it’s worth the wait.
The last of the slavers toppled backwards, one of Varric’s bolts in his chest, and Bethany stepped out from cover to survey the scene. Ten dead slavers and three live companions, just as it should be, her sister already working over the corpses with Varric’s help. Bethany assured herself that they were both uninjured, and then she noticed Fenris, a few paces off the field, leaning heavily on his sword.
"Are you all right?" she asked as she came up to him.
so Bethris seems to be getting popular these days… I APPROVE
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