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There was a time...
There are ugly thoughts behind the tag, so read it at your own discretion. I've also taken the liberty to screen the comments, so that I can delete them when they are being hurtful, before anyone else would read them. I don't feel up to dealing with public abuse. Sorry.
There was a time when I could discuss story ideas and plot development with my so-called friends in the Tolkien fandom. Not necessarily because they would have been really interested in what I was doing but because I was useful for them as a sounding board. Until I was no longer, or until they found someone they thought would be more useful. Then they dropped me like a hot potato.
The fact that I no longer have contact with them is small comfort, because really, with friends like that who needs enemies?
It seems to be a tendency, both in various fandoms and in real life, that people take my friendship and support for granted, without the idea of reciprocation occurring to them. In real life, I don't care. But in fandom, I find this the greatest discourtesy I can think of. Right after using my ideas and world-building work without giving credit. Apparently, being big name authors excuse someone from the rules of common courtesy.
The problem is, that there were only a handful people who ever read my stuff to begin with. Now when these so-called friends either wandered off to other fandoms or decided that they no longer need me because they had enough sycophants already, I've practically lost the major part of my readers, too.
And I lost the chance to talk about writing to anyone. I really miss that. Despite the circumstances, it was inspiring. Back in the Stone Age, when I was writing original fantasy, I regularly discussed my Grand Epos (TM) with a real life friend, and it was very helpful. Until she no longer needed me for keeping her suicidal tendencies at bay and walked out on me - not clearly and dramatically, just in secret. It took me months to realize it.
In a manner, the same thing happened to me in the Tolkien fandom as well. Only that it's a lot easier to marginalize someone in cyberspace. The walls of silence grow around you invisibly , and after a year or two or whatnot you suddenly realize that you are practically nonexistent. You've become an insignificant footnote and nobody gives a shit about you.
It doesn't matter whether you've learned a lot about writing or not. Whether your English has become better or deteriorated while you were absent from the fandom. It doesn't matter whether you start a new story or pick up a long-overdue WIP. It's irrelevant in which genre and age you write or which characters feature in your story. You're invisible, and nobody cares, beacause you never belonged to any of the influential cliques within the fandom, and without the secret handshake, you simply don't exist.
Not even for the people who once pretended to be your friends. Especially not for those people.
If I didn't have so many unfinished WIPs, I'd probably turn my back on this fandom entirely. But I tend to finish things that I have started; besides, I still believe that my stuff is good and worth reading, even if I'm the only person left on this planet who does. So they will be finished. I'd just like to ask those people who always accused me of writing for the reviews and the attention only: how the f*ck am I supposed to do that? For that, I'd need to actually have reviews and attention, right?
And no, getting a few nice comments on the MEFAs don't count. Even if the people on my own mailing list don't forget to alert me that they've started. They're the exception, not the rule, and between two rounds nobody will give a shit again. That's not very... inspiring, to be honest.
Every writer wants readers. It's that simple. Those who say otherwise are lying. So why is it a crime when I dare to hope for the same? Why should I be ashamed for wishing for a little support, encouragement and appreciation? Why am I supposed to be grateful for nitpickers and mean-spirited reviewers (which is the major part of what little feedback I get), when nothing else comes?
Okay, I know it wasn't very coherent. I actually lost my track somewhere mid-way. It doesn't matter. I needed to get this off my chest. I don't expect anything to change in the near future - or in the far future, to be honest. I've learned my lesson; this is not a recent phenomenon anyway. I've just reached a point again when I needed to vent my frustration.
Oh, and I've done a little more trimming on my friendslist. I'm just done with caring for people who don't care for me.
There was a time when I could discuss story ideas and plot development with my so-called friends in the Tolkien fandom. Not necessarily because they would have been really interested in what I was doing but because I was useful for them as a sounding board. Until I was no longer, or until they found someone they thought would be more useful. Then they dropped me like a hot potato.
The fact that I no longer have contact with them is small comfort, because really, with friends like that who needs enemies?
It seems to be a tendency, both in various fandoms and in real life, that people take my friendship and support for granted, without the idea of reciprocation occurring to them. In real life, I don't care. But in fandom, I find this the greatest discourtesy I can think of. Right after using my ideas and world-building work without giving credit. Apparently, being big name authors excuse someone from the rules of common courtesy.
The problem is, that there were only a handful people who ever read my stuff to begin with. Now when these so-called friends either wandered off to other fandoms or decided that they no longer need me because they had enough sycophants already, I've practically lost the major part of my readers, too.
And I lost the chance to talk about writing to anyone. I really miss that. Despite the circumstances, it was inspiring. Back in the Stone Age, when I was writing original fantasy, I regularly discussed my Grand Epos (TM) with a real life friend, and it was very helpful. Until she no longer needed me for keeping her suicidal tendencies at bay and walked out on me - not clearly and dramatically, just in secret. It took me months to realize it.
In a manner, the same thing happened to me in the Tolkien fandom as well. Only that it's a lot easier to marginalize someone in cyberspace. The walls of silence grow around you invisibly , and after a year or two or whatnot you suddenly realize that you are practically nonexistent. You've become an insignificant footnote and nobody gives a shit about you.
It doesn't matter whether you've learned a lot about writing or not. Whether your English has become better or deteriorated while you were absent from the fandom. It doesn't matter whether you start a new story or pick up a long-overdue WIP. It's irrelevant in which genre and age you write or which characters feature in your story. You're invisible, and nobody cares, beacause you never belonged to any of the influential cliques within the fandom, and without the secret handshake, you simply don't exist.
Not even for the people who once pretended to be your friends. Especially not for those people.
If I didn't have so many unfinished WIPs, I'd probably turn my back on this fandom entirely. But I tend to finish things that I have started; besides, I still believe that my stuff is good and worth reading, even if I'm the only person left on this planet who does. So they will be finished. I'd just like to ask those people who always accused me of writing for the reviews and the attention only: how the f*ck am I supposed to do that? For that, I'd need to actually have reviews and attention, right?
And no, getting a few nice comments on the MEFAs don't count. Even if the people on my own mailing list don't forget to alert me that they've started. They're the exception, not the rule, and between two rounds nobody will give a shit again. That's not very... inspiring, to be honest.
Every writer wants readers. It's that simple. Those who say otherwise are lying. So why is it a crime when I dare to hope for the same? Why should I be ashamed for wishing for a little support, encouragement and appreciation? Why am I supposed to be grateful for nitpickers and mean-spirited reviewers (which is the major part of what little feedback I get), when nothing else comes?
Okay, I know it wasn't very coherent. I actually lost my track somewhere mid-way. It doesn't matter. I needed to get this off my chest. I don't expect anything to change in the near future - or in the far future, to be honest. I've learned my lesson; this is not a recent phenomenon anyway. I've just reached a point again when I needed to vent my frustration.
Oh, and I've done a little more trimming on my friendslist. I'm just done with caring for people who don't care for me.