Since I have been interested in paintings from the Ross Antarctic Expedition lately, how about this painting done by James Ross himself? It’s much more of a suggestive rather than detailed piece, but I think it has a very somber mood to it that would have been appropriate for the occasion of reaching “Furthest South.”
So yet again, someone decided a fun thing to do on Twitter would be to invite people to give their “cancelable” opinions about fanfic and how so many things are terrible or overrated or not well-written or whatever (not gonna lie, a loooot of the criticisms have real big not-like-other-girls energy).
An author saw it, leading to them removing all of their fics from AO3.
The pushback to this author being upset has been along the lines of, don’t put your work out on the internet if you don’t want feedback.
I’ve been trying to understand why that response just falls flat for me, and here’s what I’m thinking. That feels very much like a capitalist consumer viewpoint. “Fic is a thing I consume and as a consumer, my opinion is IMPORTANT because you are marketing a PRODUCT to me. This is a transaction.”
And I realized, that’s not how I experience fic or fandom. For me, fic isn’t a thing that I buy and consume, it’s a gift given to me.
This is the example I keep thinking of. When I got married, we were given a wedding gift by one of my IL’s friends, a hand-painted bone china pitcher (think Spode or Wedgewood). Beautiful. Classic. Elegant. Like, entirely not us at all. You know what we did? We wrote a heartfelt thank you letter, expressing our appreciation of the gift, the thoughtfulness, etc. What we didn’t do, have never done, is tell them that it didn’t work for us. Because that’s just rude.
Engaging with fic, for me anyway, comes from this emotional space in my heart. So the connection between writer and reader for me, is much more a relationship, even if the relationship is simply that we’re both engaging in a fandom around something we love. It’s not a transaction.
Of course not all fic is for me; I doubt there’s any fic that every single person without exception has adored! And obviously I know my fics aren’t for everyone either! And that’s okay! Fic is such a gorgeous, lush, rich and realized landscape where so many different things flourish together, and I think that’s really beautiful. There’s something for everyone and there’s room for everyone at the table.
So absolutely, you can put your critical and negative opinions of the gifts others have given you out into public spaces, knowing that the people who have given you those gifts occupy those spaces with you. No one can stop you!
Personally, I’d much rather focus on the joy that fic has given me, and the gratitude I feel for people’s willingness to share their gifts with me and the world.
“How strange and yet also how logical it is that so many of our metaphors for storytelling are drawn from the discursive field of textile production. We weave plots, spin stories, fabricate tales, or tell yarns—a reminder of how the works of our hands produced social spaces that promoted the exchange of stories.”
“Seamen have always dwelt on the fringes of settled society. The Greeks hesitated whether to count them among the living or the dead, and eighteenth century Englishmen were not so much better informed.”
Rodger, Nicholas AM. The wooden world: an anatomy of the Georgian navy. London: Collins, 1986.
I love the Redwall series. It’s just: “And then Colonel Wollywosh, the fastest rabbit in all the land, committed a real ass war crime.”
“Oi no sah, I dunno if oi’ll do ‘at!” ahouted Snotfuck the rat as he tackled Pogwap the stoat, gouging out both of his eyes with his thumbs and biting off his ears and throwing his corpse into a lake
And then all the animals sat down for a picnic of the most delicious food you’ve ever heard described in a book.
to anyone out there who’s struggling with having no friends — wondering where you belong in this world, searching for a place to belong — you matter. you are so important. and you will find your people or maybe just a special person who feels like home. it may seem like your loneliness will last forever, but it won’t. it never does.
i need some of y’all to understand that being nonbinary is a complex relationship with gender and not just Binary Trans Lite™ like not every nonbinary person is gonna be ok with certain gendered terms in either direction and it’s shitty to assume we will
as literally incomprehensible as benji’s pov is for most things… nothing has made me feel as though my brain was getting treated like a yo-yo as much as rory cairo’s pov.
here have this silly excerpt from some dialogue from the only thing I’ve written all week lmao
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re not the first bloodthirsty rampaging vampire I’ve had to restrain because everyone in this house is an idiot.”
“I bit you in the arm,” Nat mumbled.
“Mm-hmm,” Alex hummed, mouth pressed tightly closed in a firm line.
“I tried to claw your eyes out.”
“Mm-hmm.” This time those pursed lips twitched, obviously and adamantly trying to shut down a smile.
Nat buried his face in his hands, mortified. “I was too short to reach.”
[id: a reference sheet of an original character. on the left a woman with light brown skin, hazel brown eyes and black, wavy hair tied in a low ponytail with a red ribbon, and a crocus flower intervoven near her bangs. she’s wearing a linen shirt, red and yellow beads, a brown furcoat and skirt, a red pleat apron and leather shoes. she’s holding a plant in her right hand. behind her is an antique illustration of the mountain knotgrass, the background is a white house with a brushwood fence and a pond in front of it. on the right is text that reads: RDEST. she/her, of around 20 springs. a spiritual leader and healer of her community; hard-working, patient and warm, but emotionally withdrawn and influenced by others a little too easily. crushed under her mother’s distaste for her, but slowly comes back around. rdest likes a crepuscular lifestyle, being most active at both dawn and dusk. her favorite places to spend time in are riparian buffers, flood meadows and her house. one of her favorite flowers is the great burnet. /end id]
ALT
