Fanfic and flying under the radar
Oct. 20th, 2004 03:01 pmBeen thinking more about this. What makes it [fanfic] not public is the attempt to fly under the radar of the Powers That Be, right? Or at least not actively draw their attention? Though how much that's done varies quite a bit from creator to creator. I know of at least one mailing list, read and posted to by the author, where fanfic is simply labeled "fanfic" so she can avoid reading it, but there's no attempt to pretend that it doesn't exist.
I've been thinking more about it as well. This is less an answer to your question than it started out being, but it is a more methodical examination of my own reaction.
What makes it less public is twofold, for me. Radar is part of it, but not by any means the whole. Let me try to express it. Let me take a whole new post to do it, because I've outrun my word limit. Again.
PART ONE
Fanfic is not a critique, nor is it a review of what exists; fanfic writers are certainly capable of doing book critiques/reviews or movie/tv critiques/reviews, but no one calls those fanfic. Both critique and review consider the text at hand (or the show at hand), assessing what's there, and giving their (hopefully but not always) informed opinion on it. There is a dialogue of sorts between some of these reviewers and the creative person(s) at the other end; there is a dialogue of sorts between some of these reviewers and the fans of the work in question. But if the review has some heat or love at its heart, it's still about the work as a whole. I don't consider this a dialogue in the standard sense; I'm now using dialogue in the sense that you used it originally, so if I stumble in that, bear with me.
In some instances, I think there are parodies or even satires -- but I don't consider those to be fanfic, and this could be because my definition is way the heck too narrow, i.e. I'm ignorant. Parody usually reflects the original work as a whole, and some understanding of the original is necessary in order for the parody to work at all; I consider parody a broad commentary, because that's the point of parody. Well, and also to make fun of the audience reaction. Digression.
Fanfic, rather than being a (theoretically) objective form of that dialogue or response, is much more of an emotional dialogue; it exists first between the reader and what they draw out of the primary work, and second, in the text they create. It explores other possibilities and permutations (if I understand what you've said correctly) that the original work did not -- or hasn't yet. Or never will.
But much of fanfic is essentially fiction, with serial numbers, and its aim is the aim, in many ways, of the original work, because if it didn't have some of that same feel or tone it wouldn't be fanfic. Because of the serial numbers, there is a need to fly under the radar. I would argue that it's that need that allows fanfic to thrive, although it does keep it out of the public eye to a greater or lesser extent. If you don't know anything about it, it's invisible; once you do, it's everywhere. Okay, I really have to stop with the digressions.
Having said that, let's go back to the need to fly under the radar. This is partly necessitated by legal convention, and as the copyright holder, I cannot outright decry it, for a variety of reasons, one being, I have some attachment to my copyright.
What happens under the radar is of less concern to me than what happens above the radar. There are things I would not want my characters to say or do. Obviously, when I'm writing, I have say in this (although, creative process being what it is, not 100% <wry g>). If someone is writing fanfic based on my characters or in my universe, what they want the characters to do is part of their emotional response. And -- beneath the radar -- this is a valid exploration; it's a little like daydreaming in public, which, in many ways, is where the heart of many stories start. The work comes after.
But if you remove the protective layer, which we'll call the radar level, I would feel a lot more ambivalent, because there are ways in which I would not want my characters to be represented to my readers, many of whom still don't own computers (I know, I always find this a bit shocking; it's stranger, to me, than not owning a telephone or a television but I digress, as always). In the public sense -- in the way my vision is present as my vision to the universe, or the small slice that reads my books <wry g>, and speaking with no delusions of grandeur (although I can't speak for other types of delusions), I can clearly state that I want my vision of my creation to be the canonical vision. I realize that's a lot of genetive use there.
Let me sum it up in a less unwieldy fashion: I do not want other writers defining canon in a universe I create.
PART TWO
But part of the difference in my reaction, part of the sense of "public" or "legitimate" stems, in part, from the medium through which the original property is first presented. Joss Whedon approves of fanfic, but he's doing Television, and I bet he'd be a lot less happy if fanfic writers were to get together and produce and air their own version of Buffy. A lot, as in lawsuits and really ugly things, and I don't think he'd be hands-off at that point.
Many of the people who watch the show will never read the licensed spinoffs, and they'll also never read the fanfic. Both the spinoffs and the fanfic fill a smaller role than the original broadcast did. It's accepted that what happens in the textual presentations or the comic books or the fanfic, etc, licensed or not., are not canonical; they can be ignored or changed or overturned at the whim of the licensor. In a sense, the spirit of generosity that allows the fanfic to exist can only be generous, in my view, because of that -- the other works are not canonical. They don't change anything. They don't touch or mark or move the original, and they don't open or close the avenues the original series can move in. The creator feels free to ignore them entirely.
When you're dealing with fanfic based on written work, you're suddenly dealing with the exact same medium, which is why I think more tension exists.
I don't know any writers who hate filksongs inspired by their works. I don't know any writers who hate art inspired by their work. Or costumes. Many would be perfectly happy to have RPGs or Television shows based on their works (if they were paid <g>).
But none of these media are the primary medium for the creator -- the text, in the case of books, is.
Knowing that canon is decided by me (and knowing that some people won't always be happy with the decisions I make) gives me the same comfort zone that someone producing television shows would have. Reviews, critiques-- these don't really change the way people view the original. Are they public? Yes. But in some sense they relate to the canonical work.
They make no attempt to change the work; they can savage it, they can praise it, they can dissect it for meaning -- but they're not there to rework to it; at most, they can shift the way we view what's already there. In this sense, the work is the point of the discourse. And as all writers know, once something is published, it's public, and people can say whatever the want about it. We're prepared for that. That's the sense of "public" I assume when I see the word.
In the case of fanfic, the work is the stepping stone, the foundation, the thing people stand on while they branch out; the anchor to which they tie their own skills, developing their own voices and abilities. At this point in time, one can sort of assume that readers and writers of fanfic have read or watched the originals, so there's a certainty of informed creation, even if the creation is not canon.
But were the fanfic based on novels to be published as novels in their own right -- without any vetting or interference from the original author -- there's no guarantee that new readers would be so informed, and the canonical understanding of a creation that originated elsewhere -- like, say, me -- could shift radically. A book, after all, is a book, and it sits on the shelf, like other books.
And I'm sorry if it makes me sound hideously selfish -- and I'm aware that it probably does -- but the right to set canon is incredibly important to me.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-21 07:04 am (UTC)I will -- I'm thinking of little else these days. It's just such a new revelation for me that I don't really know how to address it. Though having a specific person sincerely request that I finish a specific original piece because they want to read it seems to work as a temporary kludge, at least for short stuff.
I find writing to an existing audience vastly more constraining and more stressful.
Wow, we couldn't be more different, could we? That's another thing that makes sense now that you say it but I wouldn't have thought of on my own. I'm learning a lot from this conversation.
but it's not an audience that I can easily quantify.
*nods* I'm still at the stage where I can name a fair fraction of my readers. I don't necessarily know what they want, or predict what they would like, but I do know who they are. Although really I just need one. Everyone else is gravy.
The audience that exists for, say, Buffy or Valdemar, has expectations of a work -- and with some reason -- that places the onus on me, as the writer, to get it right. To get the tone right for the audience, as opposed to for the story; I don't have the latitude to shift tone hugely, to change the way characters talk or think, to let them grow organically.
The first and last wouldn't be true for fanfic, BTW -- tone changes are part of what people look for in fanfic because they aren't getting them from canon, and letting them grow organically is the whole point. But I understand that it's not possible in the official stuff. The "can't change the way characters talk or think" is still the same, at least in theory.
Communication being what it is, there's no guarantee of success; I can't objectively look at anything I write and say "this works for this audience". Any certainty I have, I gain after the fact, when, in fact, nothing can be revised or changed .
*nodsnodsnods* I get that.
I have no idea who my audience is when I write my West novels. I truly don't.
And you find that freeing, yes? I would like to get to that place. Right now I find it paralysing -- like being slapped in the face with my own presumption. This is also where writing process crosses over into therapy process, to my frustration and embarassment.
This ignorance on my part gives me the freedom to be true only to the story itself. The world can twist and events can change and characters can die as the story demands -- and there is no part of me that stops to think "this will offend the audience"
That's funny -- I never think that, even when I'm writing Spike and Buffy in the library with the candlestick to Jane Doe's specifications. They set the parameters, and I just go from there.
I do worry about out of character because I didn't invent these characters and I do need to color in the lines. But I don't really worry about other people's opinions of it, just mine.
I have a freedom in that that probably is egotistical; it's me I have to satisfy first.
I don't think it's egotistical, I think it's healthy. Unfortunately I'm unhealthy enough that when it comes to me it feels egotistical. *wry grin* I still have to satisfy myself first as to whether it's good enough, but in order to write it at all I need to know that someone else wants to read it.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-21 09:42 pm (UTC)I will -- I'm thinking of little else these days. It's just such a new revelation for me that I don't really know how to address it. Though having a specific person sincerely request that I finish a specific original piece because they want to read it seems to work as a temporary kludge, at least for short stuff.
Pretend I'm a fan who is asking you to write a piece about your thoughts on the writing process in general, then <g>. You will have at least an audience of one, and I'd be happy to read it. Would, in fact, look forward to it.
I find writing to an existing audience vastly more constraining and more stressful.
Wow, we couldn't be more different, could we? That's another thing that makes sense now that you say it but I wouldn't have thought of on my own. I'm learning a lot from this conversation.
It's the other side of the coin. I think a lot of readers approach an original work without specific expectations, so if I write the story well, there's less of a chance that I fail to address a specific need.
The audience that exists for, say, Buffy or Valdemar, has expectations of a work -- and with some reason -- that places the onus on me, as the writer, to get it right. To get the tone right for the audience, as opposed to for the story; I don't have the latitude to shift tone hugely, to change the way characters talk or think, to let them grow organically.
The first and last wouldn't be true for fanfic, BTW -- tone changes are part of what people look for in fanfic because they aren't getting them from canon, and letting them grow organically is the whole point. But I understand that it's not possible in the official stuff. The "can't change the way characters talk or think" is still the same, at least in theory.
Good to know, and more to think about vis a vis what drives people to write fanfic.
I have no idea who my audience is when I write my West novels. I truly don't.
And you find that freeing, yes? I would like to get to that place. Right now I find it paralysing -- like being slapped in the face with my own presumption. This is also where writing process crosses over into therapy process, to my frustration and embarassment.
I find it freeing, yes. Because I can assume that those who like the books will like my particular take on a number of things; I'm not disappointing a preset set of expectations. And it's mine, and can be changed at will -- as I said, I set the canon, and then do my best to make it believable and consistent, which is sort of a pain <wry g>.
I have a freedom in that that probably is egotistical; it's me I have to satisfy first.
I don't think it's egotistical, I think it's healthy. Unfortunately I'm unhealthy enough that when it comes to me it feels egotistical. *wry grin* I still have to satisfy myself first as to whether it's good enough, but in order to write it at all I need to know that someone else wants to read it.
Ah. That makes more sense. I wrote the first books with no certain sense that anyone would want to read them -- but as I was trying to write something I thought I would want to read, I assumed that people out there who were like me existed, and that kept me going. More people watch Buffy, though <wry g>.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-22 06:40 am (UTC)*grin* Okay. In fact, it's already up -- the most recent entry in my journal. It's just thoughts about this part of the writing process, though, because my thoughts on process in general are long and disjointed and I have no confidence in them.
At this stage I am eagerly gobbling up the thoughts on process of people whose processes have, you know, worked.
It's the other side of the coin. I think a lot of readers approach an original work without specific expectations, so if I write the story well, there's less of a chance that I fail to address a specific need.
*nodsnods* That makes sense, intellectually at least.
I find it freeing, yes. Because I can assume that those who like the books will like my particular take on a number of things; I'm not disappointing a preset set of expectations.
*more nodding* I'll be getting a headache at this rate. *grin*
Ah. That makes more sense. I wrote the first books with no certain sense that anyone would want to read them -- but as I was trying to write something I thought I would want to read, I assumed that people out there who were like me existed, and that kept me going.
Huh. Interesting. I don't know what part of that logic chain I'm failing -- while I don't always write want I want to read, I would in fact want to read the current project. Maybe there are people like me part?
More people watch Buffy, though .
Hey, if your books were free and beamed into their living rooms, more people would read them too. Never underestimate the power of laziness.