Things I Have Learned From Fandom
So back when we were planning the LiveJournal writing contest, I offered to be the one to do all the logistics, the preliminary judging, the coordination, etc. And we were all sitting around in our weekly management meeting, and we were setting timelines and schedules, and our Marketing Guy said to me: "How long do you think you'll need, after submissions close, to get all the preliminary judging done so we can put it to community vote?"
"Two weeks," I said.
"Two weeks?" he said. (I cannot properly convey the tone: a mixture of admiration, dubiousness, and some je ne sais quois that would only go into words as "I think you're trying to be helpful, and I know you're very good at what you do, but are you really sure you're not underestimating things here?")
"Two weeks," I said.
"What if we get a hundred submissions?" he said.
"Two weeks," I said.
"What if we get a thousand submissions?" he said. "At -- what's a thousand words, three pages? Four? How long would it really take you to read and judge four thousand pages?"
"Less than a week," I said. "The extra week's just for padding."
I run into this a lot. And I finally realized what it is. It's not that I'm Superwoman or anything. It's just that I've been in fandom for a very, very long time, and -- well, you know, fandom gives you some very weird talents.
And so, mostly for amusement on a sleepy Wednesday morning, I present to you: Things Fandom Has Taught Me. (Either directly, or by watching other people.)
Fandom has taught me how to organize an event for a ridiculous number of people, with little to no notice, often with things going horribly wrong at the last minute, and still manage to smile graciously and avoid letting people know how close we came to disaster. Fandom has taught me not to expect anyone to appreciate it except a relative few, mostly the people who've done it before.
Fandom has taught me that when organizing said event, one must also remember to take into account restrictive food allergies/eating habits, bizarre sleeping schedules, relative level of ability or disability, various levels of social comfort and awkwardness, and a myriad differing definitions of tolerance, and somehow do so in a way that everyone feels welcomed.
Fandom has taught me that some people will be looking for a reason to complain anyway.
Fandom has taught me that everyone's got a different opinion, and mine's just another voice in the crowd. Fandom has taught me how to recognize when I'm right, dammit isn't going to get me anywhere and I should just shut up and let things happen.
Fandom has taught me never to forget that not only am I not a beautiful and unique snowflake, nobody else is, either. Fandom has taught me that when people forget this, someone always ends up on Fandom Wank.
Fandom has taught me how to write something in such a way that a hundred different people, all with differing opinions, will all read it and nod along thoughtfully, then go along on their way and consider what I've said. Fandom has taught me how to express strong opinions with conviction and confidence, but also with manners.
In fact, fandom has taught me how to write, period.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, people you think are your friends really aren't. Fandom has taught me that sometimes, people you think hate you are really just shy.
Fandom has taught me that people are capable of stunning acts of kindness and generosity, sometimes in the same breath as moments of unspeakable cruelty.
Fandom has taught me how to break any organizational problem down into its smallest parts, and which of those parts need to be addressed and which will just work themselves out if you leave them alone long enough.
Fandom has taught me a mastery of small-group dynamics unsurpassed by any book, website, training course, or academic institution I've ever seen. Fandom has taught me how to use those skills to the group advantage, and avoid using them to the group disadvantage.
Fandom has taught me there is nothing so great that someone won't hate it, and there is nothing so awful that someone won't laud it as the second coming.
Fandom has taught me that I should keep a constant list, somewhere in the back of my head, of the talents and skills and areas of expertise of all the people I know, because next week I'm going to find that I need information on sixteenth century Nicaraguan folk dances and Google isn't turning up anything, dammit.
Fandom has taught me how to evaluate the relative merit of a piece of writing within the first few hundred words to see whether or not it's worth it to keep going. Fandom has taught me to have standards as a reader: it has defined both "amazing writing" and "awful writing", by example, over and over again.
Fandom has taught me that any group of N people will have N+2 opinions. Fandom has taught me that one well-connected person with one well-constructed argument can reduce that to N/2, or sometimes even just two: the arguer's position, and the counter-position. Fandom has taught me when it's not worth my time to try to be that person.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, it's okay for it to be all about the pretty, and sometimes, it's okay for it to be all about the content, and in the long run, it'll all average out.
Fandom has taught me how to speak so people will hear me, rather than tuning me out. Fandom has taught me how to evaluate any potential audience, whether that be one person or a hundred, to figure out what will reach them and what will turn them away.
Fandom has taught me that any time you bring money into it, people are going to start getting weird.
Fandom has taught me to always have a backup plan. In fact, have three. Or four.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, you just need to whine.
And finally, fandom has taught me that no matter how organized you are, no matter how carefully you pay attention, no matter how much you think and plan and take things into account: you will screw up at least once along the way, and it will be blazingly disasterous, and you will want to climb under your bed and hide, but the best way through it is to stand up, and be honest, and do your absolute best to put things right.
What's your list? :)
"Two weeks," I said.
"Two weeks?" he said. (I cannot properly convey the tone: a mixture of admiration, dubiousness, and some je ne sais quois that would only go into words as "I think you're trying to be helpful, and I know you're very good at what you do, but are you really sure you're not underestimating things here?")
"Two weeks," I said.
"What if we get a hundred submissions?" he said.
"Two weeks," I said.
"What if we get a thousand submissions?" he said. "At -- what's a thousand words, three pages? Four? How long would it really take you to read and judge four thousand pages?"
"Less than a week," I said. "The extra week's just for padding."
I run into this a lot. And I finally realized what it is. It's not that I'm Superwoman or anything. It's just that I've been in fandom for a very, very long time, and -- well, you know, fandom gives you some very weird talents.
And so, mostly for amusement on a sleepy Wednesday morning, I present to you: Things Fandom Has Taught Me. (Either directly, or by watching other people.)
Fandom has taught me how to organize an event for a ridiculous number of people, with little to no notice, often with things going horribly wrong at the last minute, and still manage to smile graciously and avoid letting people know how close we came to disaster. Fandom has taught me not to expect anyone to appreciate it except a relative few, mostly the people who've done it before.
Fandom has taught me that when organizing said event, one must also remember to take into account restrictive food allergies/eating habits, bizarre sleeping schedules, relative level of ability or disability, various levels of social comfort and awkwardness, and a myriad differing definitions of tolerance, and somehow do so in a way that everyone feels welcomed.
Fandom has taught me that some people will be looking for a reason to complain anyway.
Fandom has taught me that everyone's got a different opinion, and mine's just another voice in the crowd. Fandom has taught me how to recognize when I'm right, dammit isn't going to get me anywhere and I should just shut up and let things happen.
Fandom has taught me never to forget that not only am I not a beautiful and unique snowflake, nobody else is, either. Fandom has taught me that when people forget this, someone always ends up on Fandom Wank.
Fandom has taught me how to write something in such a way that a hundred different people, all with differing opinions, will all read it and nod along thoughtfully, then go along on their way and consider what I've said. Fandom has taught me how to express strong opinions with conviction and confidence, but also with manners.
In fact, fandom has taught me how to write, period.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, people you think are your friends really aren't. Fandom has taught me that sometimes, people you think hate you are really just shy.
Fandom has taught me that people are capable of stunning acts of kindness and generosity, sometimes in the same breath as moments of unspeakable cruelty.
Fandom has taught me how to break any organizational problem down into its smallest parts, and which of those parts need to be addressed and which will just work themselves out if you leave them alone long enough.
Fandom has taught me a mastery of small-group dynamics unsurpassed by any book, website, training course, or academic institution I've ever seen. Fandom has taught me how to use those skills to the group advantage, and avoid using them to the group disadvantage.
Fandom has taught me there is nothing so great that someone won't hate it, and there is nothing so awful that someone won't laud it as the second coming.
Fandom has taught me that I should keep a constant list, somewhere in the back of my head, of the talents and skills and areas of expertise of all the people I know, because next week I'm going to find that I need information on sixteenth century Nicaraguan folk dances and Google isn't turning up anything, dammit.
Fandom has taught me how to evaluate the relative merit of a piece of writing within the first few hundred words to see whether or not it's worth it to keep going. Fandom has taught me to have standards as a reader: it has defined both "amazing writing" and "awful writing", by example, over and over again.
Fandom has taught me that any group of N people will have N+2 opinions. Fandom has taught me that one well-connected person with one well-constructed argument can reduce that to N/2, or sometimes even just two: the arguer's position, and the counter-position. Fandom has taught me when it's not worth my time to try to be that person.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, it's okay for it to be all about the pretty, and sometimes, it's okay for it to be all about the content, and in the long run, it'll all average out.
Fandom has taught me how to speak so people will hear me, rather than tuning me out. Fandom has taught me how to evaluate any potential audience, whether that be one person or a hundred, to figure out what will reach them and what will turn them away.
Fandom has taught me that any time you bring money into it, people are going to start getting weird.
Fandom has taught me to always have a backup plan. In fact, have three. Or four.
Fandom has taught me that sometimes, you just need to whine.
And finally, fandom has taught me that no matter how organized you are, no matter how carefully you pay attention, no matter how much you think and plan and take things into account: you will screw up at least once along the way, and it will be blazingly disasterous, and you will want to climb under your bed and hide, but the best way through it is to stand up, and be honest, and do your absolute best to put things right.
What's your list? :)