The very first thing I was a fan of as a child was Robin Hood*. I thought about the world constantly. I read the stories over and over again. What would I do if I got lose in the woods and found Robin? How would I help them rob the rich to feed the poor? Why was there only one woman in the stories, and how come I had to be pretend to be her literally every time we played Robin Hood at school? (I far preferred playing it at home, where one of my sisters would jump at the chance to be Maid Marion and I could finally be someone else–like Robin himself, or Will Scarlet.)
After that, it was Star Wars. Not just the original trilogy–although I so loved that trilogy–but the books as well, the expanded universe that just opened my mind up to the possibilities that were contained within the worlds that Lucas had originally created. There was just so much out there, so many things we could possibly be. In my imagination, I flew X-Wings, I joined the Jedi Academy with Jacen and Jaina, I stared in awe while Luke Skywalker taught us to use the Force and helped us build our lightsabers. I read all of the books I could possibly get my hands on (yes, even that one. I read that one a lot.).
And from there, it was onwards, through the Belgariad and Mallorean into Stephen King and Anne Rice. I fell out of love with Star Wars when the Phantom Menace came out, and went through a brief period where all I read was Robin Cook**. and it was just after then that I started writing for myself.
Even though I’d spent most of my childhood imagining making my own lightsaber (interestingly, I don’t remember any of the colours of the blades, though I’m sure I had many), when I started writing, I started with original work, and I mostly kept that up. I read a little bit of fanfic here and there, but not much of it, and I definitely didn’t have any need to write any of my own. And fanfic was hard to find, then–Google existed, just barely, but I never knew where I was supposed to go to find the things I was looking for, and it was hard for me to find decent stuff. Livejournal was able to provide for a while, but strikethroughs kept happening, and it was difficult to trust that content would always be there.
Then Mad Max: Fury Road happened, and it changed everything for me.
I wanted–no, I needed–to read everything about it. When I ran out of reading the things that were actually canon, I went back to fanfic. And lo, in the time between when I was a child and now, Ao3 now existed, and there were tags, and there were categories, and everything was beautiful.
After Mad Max, there was The Force Awakens, and my love for Star Wars blossomed and exploded so hard in my chest it was like it had never faltered to begin with. And there was Hamilton, and Leverage, and Stranger Things, and it is so beautiful and amazing that there are so many artists out there that are offering up their visions of what they think, what they see, what they extrapolate from the art we’ve been given to weave their own beauty on top of what we already have.
My family and I went to Sask Expo this weekend, and it was so great. There was cosplay, and there were artists and writers, and there were quilts and stuffed animals and the Ghostbusters car, and it was just so amazing to see everyone out there, showing us all what they love, showing us how much they love it.
I really love fandom, everybody. I really, really love it.
I started writing some of my own fanfic this year, actually putting things down on paper instead of just keeping them in my head. I don’t know what I’ll actually end up doing with it–but hey, I have feelings to explore, and I can explore them in the context of some of my favourite art. That’s a pretty great opportunity to have.
*Yes, the animated one with the fox. That one.
**I tried to get from Robin Cook into Tess Gerritsen, and still remember the nausea winding around my guts as I tried to get through the start of one of her books, the horror beautiful and compelling and definitely too much for me at the time.
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