This is why people think fanworks creators are doucheweasels
So, I wrote this thing about fanworks over on my quasi-pro blog, and got a response from someone who's apparently a big Fanfic is Legit!!! crusader.
Oh, dear.
Her attitude, going by the LJ post she linked to, is emblematic of a huge problem I see among some fanworks creators (primarily fic writers, but I've seen it in other media): the notion that they're somehow on a creative par with people who create original works largely from scratch.
Ehm. No.
(Good) fanfic takes effort, of course (hi, may I show you all ~200,000 words of fic I've written?) but it's simply not the same thing as creating original characters and worlds from scratch, and it's also not even the same thing as creating a truly derivative work (as I explained in my comment, one that strips down a story to its component parts, and reassembles it into something largely new.)
There is, of course, virtually nothing out there that's wholly original. Most plots are variations on the hero's journey or boy-meets-girl, and most settings and characters can be boiled down to a handful of archetypes. Yet, there's still quite a lot of work that goes into world- and character-building when creating a new piece, even if you're using an existing template. If you're skipping over that step, and using worlds and characters someone else made as-is, you're simply not putting in the same amount of effort as someone who has--and you do NOT deserve the same amount of credit, creative respect or--FSM forbid--pay.
Many people who are new to storytelling, whether as creator or audience, mistakenly believe that the art of a story is in its plot; they believe that the important part of a story is what happens, rather than who it happens to, where and when, and how those things change from the experience.
For instance, see the shitstorm that happened with the Lost finale. Apparently, thousands of people thought they were watching six seasons of a big sci-fi mystery, and they wanted Answers, Dammit! at the end of it all. They completely missed the point that the show was not about the island or how/why people got stranded there, but about the castaways themselves, and how their experiences changed them.
Think about the stories you love the most--the ones that evoke strong emotional reactions. What is it that really spoke to you about them? The whodunnit? Or the experiences of the people in the story? Did you fall in love with the story of the Ring getting to Mordor, or the story of Frodo going from innocent boy to broken shell of a creature?
There are, of course, some who have problems relating to others who don't find character-based stories compelling, but for most of us, getting to know the people in these stories, and developing relationships with them, is the reason we keep going back to the screen or page.
What that means is that if you're not making up your own characters and the immediate environments they exist in, you're not actually telling a new story. You may be writing a new plot. You may even be writing a plot that's very different from one you'd see in canon. But if you're not writing new people, you're not writing a new story. Plots write themselves. Characters are a different kettle of onions, if they're to be anything more than just prefab paper dolls with different names and clothes. Characters are an audience's best friend, host and companion on the journey they're taking. They are the avatars through which we experience these plots. If they're not original and compelling, then neither is the story.
As I pointed out in my comment, the reason people read fanfic is because they love the characters and worlds of the original work, and want to see more of them than they got in canon. On rare occasions, a fic writer may create something that's wildly AU and populated entirely with OCs that gets attention, but generally speaking, most folks aren't going to bother with fic that doesn't contain those recognizable, well-loved elements. There's way too much shit out there you'd have to sift through to find the good stuff. Much easier to use the convenient quality-control gatekeepers of professional editors and publishers if one wants to read original fiction.
Would people still read my giant, trashy Primeval novel if I'd written it about three co-workers at a pencil factory in Ohio? Unless I got that sucker professionally published somehow, I seriously doubt it. I'm quite proud of that story, and I think it's largely well-written, but I'm not kidding myself that my l33t writerly skillz are why people read it. They read it because they like the idea of Abby, Becker and Connor punctuating moments of canon-inspired maudlin angst with sweaty puppy piles. Hell, I wrote it because I like that idea, not because I wanted people to think I'm Captain Awesome for writing it. I like positive feedback as much as any fic writer, but I also know I didn't put half the effort into that thing as I did into my two original novels, and I therefore don't deserve even half the credit an original author would.
And therein lies the key problem with fic writers who think they're on par with pros: they're not writing because they love these characters, and love sharing off-screen adventures of them with other fans, but because they love basking in reams of positive feedback, and mistakenly believe that feedback is solely about them. They see the attention that professional storytellers get for their creations, and want some of that for themselves, so they go about trying to do basically the same thing, and expect the same adulation. Just like people who impersonate celebs on Twitter or FB and lure in followers, they don't get that the attention they're getting from this act is truly about someone else, and not themselves. It's like winning a medal for a race you didn't run. Sure, you have the medal, which is cool, but it's not really yours now, is it?
Now, of course I'm not saying there's something wrong with fanfic or the people who write it. The vast majority of fic writers and readers are perfectly awesome people, and I'd have to hate myself if that were not the case. I'm also not saying that people who write fic are inherently bad writers. On the contrary, some are incredibly good at what they do, and many have also gone on to create some great original works. But fic itself simply doesn't take the same amount of skill and effort as creating a work with original characters and worlds, and therefore those works simply don't deserve the same amount of creative respect as ones that do. Yes, a 50,000-word fic takes effort, but it's just not the same as creating a 50,000-word novel from scratch, so don't expect the same kudos, yeah?
Fanworks serve a wonderful purpose in helping fans to immerse themselves further in a world they love. It's audience participation in its purest form. But it's important for us to remember that that's what our role is: audience. We are there to experience something that someone else made, and we create and consume fanworks as a way of experiencing that on a closer, more intimate level. We make what we do as tribute to the people whose work we love, not as a way to get attention or to make ourselves seem important to other fans. Those who spend much of their fanworks time worrying about feedback or arguing that they're making Art! are missing the point.
Oh, dear.
Her attitude, going by the LJ post she linked to, is emblematic of a huge problem I see among some fanworks creators (primarily fic writers, but I've seen it in other media): the notion that they're somehow on a creative par with people who create original works largely from scratch.
Ehm. No.
(Good) fanfic takes effort, of course (hi, may I show you all ~200,000 words of fic I've written?) but it's simply not the same thing as creating original characters and worlds from scratch, and it's also not even the same thing as creating a truly derivative work (as I explained in my comment, one that strips down a story to its component parts, and reassembles it into something largely new.)
There is, of course, virtually nothing out there that's wholly original. Most plots are variations on the hero's journey or boy-meets-girl, and most settings and characters can be boiled down to a handful of archetypes. Yet, there's still quite a lot of work that goes into world- and character-building when creating a new piece, even if you're using an existing template. If you're skipping over that step, and using worlds and characters someone else made as-is, you're simply not putting in the same amount of effort as someone who has--and you do NOT deserve the same amount of credit, creative respect or--FSM forbid--pay.
Many people who are new to storytelling, whether as creator or audience, mistakenly believe that the art of a story is in its plot; they believe that the important part of a story is what happens, rather than who it happens to, where and when, and how those things change from the experience.
For instance, see the shitstorm that happened with the Lost finale. Apparently, thousands of people thought they were watching six seasons of a big sci-fi mystery, and they wanted Answers, Dammit! at the end of it all. They completely missed the point that the show was not about the island or how/why people got stranded there, but about the castaways themselves, and how their experiences changed them.
Think about the stories you love the most--the ones that evoke strong emotional reactions. What is it that really spoke to you about them? The whodunnit? Or the experiences of the people in the story? Did you fall in love with the story of the Ring getting to Mordor, or the story of Frodo going from innocent boy to broken shell of a creature?
There are, of course, some who have problems relating to others who don't find character-based stories compelling, but for most of us, getting to know the people in these stories, and developing relationships with them, is the reason we keep going back to the screen or page.
What that means is that if you're not making up your own characters and the immediate environments they exist in, you're not actually telling a new story. You may be writing a new plot. You may even be writing a plot that's very different from one you'd see in canon. But if you're not writing new people, you're not writing a new story. Plots write themselves. Characters are a different kettle of onions, if they're to be anything more than just prefab paper dolls with different names and clothes. Characters are an audience's best friend, host and companion on the journey they're taking. They are the avatars through which we experience these plots. If they're not original and compelling, then neither is the story.
As I pointed out in my comment, the reason people read fanfic is because they love the characters and worlds of the original work, and want to see more of them than they got in canon. On rare occasions, a fic writer may create something that's wildly AU and populated entirely with OCs that gets attention, but generally speaking, most folks aren't going to bother with fic that doesn't contain those recognizable, well-loved elements. There's way too much shit out there you'd have to sift through to find the good stuff. Much easier to use the convenient quality-control gatekeepers of professional editors and publishers if one wants to read original fiction.
Would people still read my giant, trashy Primeval novel if I'd written it about three co-workers at a pencil factory in Ohio? Unless I got that sucker professionally published somehow, I seriously doubt it. I'm quite proud of that story, and I think it's largely well-written, but I'm not kidding myself that my l33t writerly skillz are why people read it. They read it because they like the idea of Abby, Becker and Connor punctuating moments of canon-inspired maudlin angst with sweaty puppy piles. Hell, I wrote it because I like that idea, not because I wanted people to think I'm Captain Awesome for writing it. I like positive feedback as much as any fic writer, but I also know I didn't put half the effort into that thing as I did into my two original novels, and I therefore don't deserve even half the credit an original author would.
And therein lies the key problem with fic writers who think they're on par with pros: they're not writing because they love these characters, and love sharing off-screen adventures of them with other fans, but because they love basking in reams of positive feedback, and mistakenly believe that feedback is solely about them. They see the attention that professional storytellers get for their creations, and want some of that for themselves, so they go about trying to do basically the same thing, and expect the same adulation. Just like people who impersonate celebs on Twitter or FB and lure in followers, they don't get that the attention they're getting from this act is truly about someone else, and not themselves. It's like winning a medal for a race you didn't run. Sure, you have the medal, which is cool, but it's not really yours now, is it?
Now, of course I'm not saying there's something wrong with fanfic or the people who write it. The vast majority of fic writers and readers are perfectly awesome people, and I'd have to hate myself if that were not the case. I'm also not saying that people who write fic are inherently bad writers. On the contrary, some are incredibly good at what they do, and many have also gone on to create some great original works. But fic itself simply doesn't take the same amount of skill and effort as creating a work with original characters and worlds, and therefore those works simply don't deserve the same amount of creative respect as ones that do. Yes, a 50,000-word fic takes effort, but it's just not the same as creating a 50,000-word novel from scratch, so don't expect the same kudos, yeah?
Fanworks serve a wonderful purpose in helping fans to immerse themselves further in a world they love. It's audience participation in its purest form. But it's important for us to remember that that's what our role is: audience. We are there to experience something that someone else made, and we create and consume fanworks as a way of experiencing that on a closer, more intimate level. We make what we do as tribute to the people whose work we love, not as a way to get attention or to make ourselves seem important to other fans. Those who spend much of their fanworks time worrying about feedback or arguing that they're making Art! are missing the point.