~~ pathetic, I know.
Jan. 8th, 2004 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaPartly, it's that I feel so weird about being on all these BNF-watcher/lister journals. I suppose it's just... the idea ruins my little dream of community, since my not feeling left out and marginal and misunderstood and lost is always such a precarious thing. I cling to the people who I like and who seem to understand me, and the sheer -publicness- of the BNF-label judgement bothers me. It's hard to find the balance between what is "fandom" and who are people who like -you- and who are "fandom acquaintances" who see you as part of the mass and would leave without saying goodbye (and when you take one for the other, oh, therein lies angst and disappointment, especially if you tie all this to the lj flists).
I've felt like I was part of a community-- not exactly of friends-- more of peers. Which makes me not-quite-comfortably halfway between two camps-- the people who watch (and gossip about the mass of the fandom) and the people who're just friends, hanging out. I suppose people listen to me, but it feels precarious because I'm don't often talk normally to people. I'm like... fannishness personified. In a way, that's plebish and dorky (and well, not true of me, even though 1 and a half years later, I'm -still- obsessed with H/D fic). I both take it too seriously for the average fan (regardless of intelligence or dedication to ship or fandom) and not seriously enough for the fandom scholars, I'd think.
Somehow I find myself in the ridiculous position of wishing I was more "real", which means less fannish, probably...? I mean, I'm not here for the intellectual discussion by any means. It's just. Frankly? Squeeing reeeeeally bloody annoys me. There you have it. Mass squeeing, anyway. Hate. It. Makes me hate the source, too. Like, I have to actively look beyond a piece's popularity on order not to have a knee-jerk hate reaction. Like. The `Peter Pan' movie. I really enjoyed it, though I had serious issues with the romance aspects & the ending. But I'd have been much happier with the movie if everyone and their brother didn't squee about it. 'Cause. It's -mine-. It's been mine for -ages-. And now. It's -public property-. Delusional as this whole train of thought is-- it's just how I feel.
Still. I know that's the foundation of fandom. This is why I'm not in a bunch of fandoms, see. I pretty much can't stand fannishness. Of anything. Ha. I realize how hypocritical this is, since I so passionately adore so many things. It's just-- doing it publically & en masse just gives me shudders.
And yet. You know. Fandom is such a great social engine-- because that's what ties people together, isn't it? Common interests, common passions. And in the end, whether you're "in" or not depends on whether you -feel- like you're in or not, whether you want to be enough to project that outwards. People seem to respond to being wanted.
I think the key to "breaking in" or whatever is just to see the people who make up any given mass as -individuals-. If you pay attention to people on a per-case basis while noticing the threads that bind them-- ie, who are they friends with, what are their common friends with another fan, who do they admire, who admires them-- then you see a community and you can join it in one of three ways (at least)--
- You can talk individually to the people that fascinate you or seem most interesting;
- You can do things that attract group attention, like posting things on mailing lists, starting fests or communities or websites or what have you, or writing (currently in demand or just really good) fic.
- You can squee with them at the things they squee at, or alternatively, squee -at- them, repeatedly, till they remember you, and eventually think of you as an individual they talk to.
I've found that the people who feel left out have a certain MO.
- They care about writing quality rather than squeeful fannishness, thus they have little in common with most of the louder segments of fandom;
- Or alternatively, they are content with the fannish reading and don't see their squeeing as something that needs to be actively broadcasted. (I'm not sure how this works in smaller fandoms with these people-- maybe you can whisper "yeay" and be heard, so it's just a loudness difference.)
- Somehow, they don't see -individuals- as being part of the fandom, and only see the group as an entity they're intimidated/bored by (this one's the clincher). Thus, BNFs! They're not -people-, they're like-- aspects of the mass! It's the many heads of the mindless beast! Figureheads, so to speak, heheh. Brass godlings. Although if the brass godling seems to -see- themselves that way, it's wanky and pathetic, because this BNF meta-image has something of a negative connotation because of its association with exclusion and jealousy (however arbitrary).
Ironically, people who -leave- the fandom, especially after being well-known in it, have a parallel profile--
- They see people outside of their peer-group or circle of acquaintances/friends as a "group" they don't care about or feel intimidated/bored by. It's not "fandom" at all, anymore, just a very focused group of individuals-- so fandom becomes -redundant-.
- They care about writing but no longer -fannish- writing in this particular fandom.
And then there's me. Who hangs around uncertainly, too addicted to fanfic and too lonely to make up her mind :>
I've felt like I was part of a community-- not exactly of friends-- more of peers. Which makes me not-quite-comfortably halfway between two camps-- the people who watch (and gossip about the mass of the fandom) and the people who're just friends, hanging out. I suppose people listen to me, but it feels precarious because I'm don't often talk normally to people. I'm like... fannishness personified. In a way, that's plebish and dorky (and well, not true of me, even though 1 and a half years later, I'm -still- obsessed with H/D fic). I both take it too seriously for the average fan (regardless of intelligence or dedication to ship or fandom) and not seriously enough for the fandom scholars, I'd think.
Somehow I find myself in the ridiculous position of wishing I was more "real", which means less fannish, probably...? I mean, I'm not here for the intellectual discussion by any means. It's just. Frankly? Squeeing reeeeeally bloody annoys me. There you have it. Mass squeeing, anyway. Hate. It. Makes me hate the source, too. Like, I have to actively look beyond a piece's popularity on order not to have a knee-jerk hate reaction. Like. The `Peter Pan' movie. I really enjoyed it, though I had serious issues with the romance aspects & the ending. But I'd have been much happier with the movie if everyone and their brother didn't squee about it. 'Cause. It's -mine-. It's been mine for -ages-. And now. It's -public property-. Delusional as this whole train of thought is-- it's just how I feel.
Still. I know that's the foundation of fandom. This is why I'm not in a bunch of fandoms, see. I pretty much can't stand fannishness. Of anything. Ha. I realize how hypocritical this is, since I so passionately adore so many things. It's just-- doing it publically & en masse just gives me shudders.
And yet. You know. Fandom is such a great social engine-- because that's what ties people together, isn't it? Common interests, common passions. And in the end, whether you're "in" or not depends on whether you -feel- like you're in or not, whether you want to be enough to project that outwards. People seem to respond to being wanted.
I think the key to "breaking in" or whatever is just to see the people who make up any given mass as -individuals-. If you pay attention to people on a per-case basis while noticing the threads that bind them-- ie, who are they friends with, what are their common friends with another fan, who do they admire, who admires them-- then you see a community and you can join it in one of three ways (at least)--
- You can talk individually to the people that fascinate you or seem most interesting;
- You can do things that attract group attention, like posting things on mailing lists, starting fests or communities or websites or what have you, or writing (currently in demand or just really good) fic.
- You can squee with them at the things they squee at, or alternatively, squee -at- them, repeatedly, till they remember you, and eventually think of you as an individual they talk to.
I've found that the people who feel left out have a certain MO.
- They care about writing quality rather than squeeful fannishness, thus they have little in common with most of the louder segments of fandom;
- Or alternatively, they are content with the fannish reading and don't see their squeeing as something that needs to be actively broadcasted. (I'm not sure how this works in smaller fandoms with these people-- maybe you can whisper "yeay" and be heard, so it's just a loudness difference.)
- Somehow, they don't see -individuals- as being part of the fandom, and only see the group as an entity they're intimidated/bored by (this one's the clincher). Thus, BNFs! They're not -people-, they're like-- aspects of the mass! It's the many heads of the mindless beast! Figureheads, so to speak, heheh. Brass godlings. Although if the brass godling seems to -see- themselves that way, it's wanky and pathetic, because this BNF meta-image has something of a negative connotation because of its association with exclusion and jealousy (however arbitrary).
Ironically, people who -leave- the fandom, especially after being well-known in it, have a parallel profile--
- They see people outside of their peer-group or circle of acquaintances/friends as a "group" they don't care about or feel intimidated/bored by. It's not "fandom" at all, anymore, just a very focused group of individuals-- so fandom becomes -redundant-.
- They care about writing but no longer -fannish- writing in this particular fandom.
And then there's me. Who hangs around uncertainly, too addicted to fanfic and too lonely to make up her mind :>
