Getting to knoooooow youuuuu...
Gacked from
erinm_4600.
Comment and I will ask you to explain seven of your interests. Post your answers in your journal along with these instructions.
Marvolo not Gaunt: Way back when I was deep into the cult of Harry Potter, my fandom had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Villain whose full, given name was originally "Tom Marvolo Riddle". According to book two (CoS), he was named after his father (Thomas), a muggle, and his grandfather (Marvolo), a pureblood wizard who had presumably disowned his daughter when she came home pregnant with a muggle's child. Now, since "Marvolo" is a REALLY STUPID given name, the issue sprouted a fanon tidbit that it was originally a surname, and it was given to Tom as a middle name in the way that was often done in Old Money Families of Ye Olde England Towne. Or so that he'll remember who he is. Whatever. Along with this came fanon that the Marvolos were a rich, important, old family. This was borne up by the canon that Tom was the last descendant of one of Hogwarts' founders, all of whom were Very Powerful and Important in magical society during their lives, and became famous historical figures after their deaths.
Well, in book six (HBP), the fanon about Voldemort's family got Jossed royally. Marvolo, it turned out, was his grandfather's given name. His surname was "Gaunt".
Marvolo Gaunt.
Oh, there's more. This "Marvolo Gaunt" and his two kids were not a Proud, Moneyed, Old Blood, Aristocratic Family. They were not even a Proud, Impovrished, Old Blood, Aristocratic Family. The were the Ewells. They were extras from the set of Deliverance. They were unwashed, disgusting, stupid white trash bigots who were distinguishable from animals only by their blood and their pride, which, by now, was justified by absolutely nothing.
Many of us in HP fandom, who thought Rowling's rendering of moral issues puerilely black and white (or green and red) left after book six. We felt that the books had become a rather dull hagiography of the traits Rowling admired, and a very childish invective against the ones she didn't. This is also the source of much of my attitude towards the concept of "Canon" and the Cult of the Author.
So, in fine, my interest in "Marvolo not Gaunt" is my way of saying, "Jo, ur doing it wrong," and my assertion that I can say it, and that people who say "canon is wrong" are not dumb, entitled or delusional. Just because the author did it first, doesn't mean s/he did it best.
Wordplay: I loves me some wordplay. All kinds: high-brow, low-brow, limericks, puns, and malaprops, double, triple and single entendres, be they whimsical, cynical, satirical or ironical, from Shakespeare or Ambrose Bierce or Douglas Adams or Charles Dickens or Winston Churchill. I have a soft spot for the Reverend Spooner. And I love the English language for being so obliging with the homonyms and synonyms.
Tough love: This is mostly with respect to beta readers and editors, I think. There is something of a latent convention in fanfic writing to choose ones betas from ones circle of friends, and thus to create a sort of built in fan club/claque. I think this is kind of a shame, because when a friend tells you that you've written something that sucks, s/he will have to live with the fallout, and therefore will probably not tell you. It also inadvertently creates something of a culture of permissiveness in fanfic beta reading, which makes otherwise tough betas reluctant to advise writers frankly and thoroughly, which I think is also a shame, because it deprives both the writer and the beta of an opportunity to learn and share all sorts of cool stuff about the language in which they're writing. This is why I originally put out a call for Betas to a group of complete strangers, and why, now that complete strangers are somewhat hard to find, I try to give my betas to understand that I am a Big Girl, and that I do not harbour delusions about being the next Margaret Laurence, and therefore, I can Take It.
Gaslamp fantasy: "Gaslamp fantasy" is a phrase coined by Phil Foglio to describe more accurately the genre formerly known as "steampunk". He points out that the term "steampunk" was originally derived from "cyberpunk," and that, though the two genres share certain fannish roots, they have little in common otherwise. For one thing, there is very little punk in steampunk. Hence, gaslamp fantasy.
Gilgamesh Wulfenbach: Gil is the love interest in the aforementioned Phil Foglio's wonderful gaslamp fantasy comic, Girl Genius. He is short-tempered, brilliant, and slightly insane. Everything a love interest should be.
Heterodyne: Heterodyne is the family name of the heroine and titular character of the aforementioned Girl Genius. She is, as you might have guessed, a girl, and a genius. She's also slightly nuts. She hails from a long line of slightly nuts geniuses with a proud and storied history of wreaking havoc on the feudal lands of AU Europe from their stronghold and family castle (also brilliant, also insane) in a cheery and demented little town called Mechanicsburg.
Cornish: Alas, I don't know very much about Cornish, since there is very little in the way of free Cornish resources round about the internets, but it was the language to introduce me to two concepts I find really cool. The first was the idea that English has "cousins" within its language system, that are constructed upon almost identical phonetic, morphological and syntactic principles. See, previously, my experience with other languages has included only ones that engender, in the learning and speaking thereof, a complete shift in frame of reference. They had different structures and different first principles form English and from one another, and I always felt myself beginning to think differently when I studied them, or heard them spoken. But when I first heard Cornish spoken, I almost felt as if I ought to understand it. It seemed so... familiar.
The second was the concept of a dying language. I was familiar with extant languages, I had knowledge of dead ones, but this was my first encounter with a system of communication that was actually going extinct. Something about that just changed the way I view language and communication. Everyone who spends much time thinking about How People Talk has probably had this epiphany, but it was Cornish that got me to think about language as a dynamic, living thing that grows and evolves and dies like any organism. But I still won't split an infinitive. :P
erinm_4600.
Comment and I will ask you to explain seven of your interests. Post your answers in your journal along with these instructions.
Marvolo not Gaunt: Way back when I was deep into the cult of Harry Potter, my fandom had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Villain whose full, given name was originally "Tom Marvolo Riddle". According to book two (CoS), he was named after his father (Thomas), a muggle, and his grandfather (Marvolo), a pureblood wizard who had presumably disowned his daughter when she came home pregnant with a muggle's child. Now, since "Marvolo" is a REALLY STUPID given name, the issue sprouted a fanon tidbit that it was originally a surname, and it was given to Tom as a middle name in the way that was often done in Old Money Families of Ye Olde England Towne. Or so that he'll remember who he is. Whatever. Along with this came fanon that the Marvolos were a rich, important, old family. This was borne up by the canon that Tom was the last descendant of one of Hogwarts' founders, all of whom were Very Powerful and Important in magical society during their lives, and became famous historical figures after their deaths.
Well, in book six (HBP), the fanon about Voldemort's family got Jossed royally. Marvolo, it turned out, was his grandfather's given name. His surname was "Gaunt".
Marvolo Gaunt.
Oh, there's more. This "Marvolo Gaunt" and his two kids were not a Proud, Moneyed, Old Blood, Aristocratic Family. They were not even a Proud, Impovrished, Old Blood, Aristocratic Family. The were the Ewells. They were extras from the set of Deliverance. They were unwashed, disgusting, stupid white trash bigots who were distinguishable from animals only by their blood and their pride, which, by now, was justified by absolutely nothing.
Many of us in HP fandom, who thought Rowling's rendering of moral issues puerilely black and white (or green and red) left after book six. We felt that the books had become a rather dull hagiography of the traits Rowling admired, and a very childish invective against the ones she didn't. This is also the source of much of my attitude towards the concept of "Canon" and the Cult of the Author.
So, in fine, my interest in "Marvolo not Gaunt" is my way of saying, "Jo, ur doing it wrong," and my assertion that I can say it, and that people who say "canon is wrong" are not dumb, entitled or delusional. Just because the author did it first, doesn't mean s/he did it best.
Wordplay: I loves me some wordplay. All kinds: high-brow, low-brow, limericks, puns, and malaprops, double, triple and single entendres, be they whimsical, cynical, satirical or ironical, from Shakespeare or Ambrose Bierce or Douglas Adams or Charles Dickens or Winston Churchill. I have a soft spot for the Reverend Spooner. And I love the English language for being so obliging with the homonyms and synonyms.
Tough love: This is mostly with respect to beta readers and editors, I think. There is something of a latent convention in fanfic writing to choose ones betas from ones circle of friends, and thus to create a sort of built in fan club/claque. I think this is kind of a shame, because when a friend tells you that you've written something that sucks, s/he will have to live with the fallout, and therefore will probably not tell you. It also inadvertently creates something of a culture of permissiveness in fanfic beta reading, which makes otherwise tough betas reluctant to advise writers frankly and thoroughly, which I think is also a shame, because it deprives both the writer and the beta of an opportunity to learn and share all sorts of cool stuff about the language in which they're writing. This is why I originally put out a call for Betas to a group of complete strangers, and why, now that complete strangers are somewhat hard to find, I try to give my betas to understand that I am a Big Girl, and that I do not harbour delusions about being the next Margaret Laurence, and therefore, I can Take It.
Gaslamp fantasy: "Gaslamp fantasy" is a phrase coined by Phil Foglio to describe more accurately the genre formerly known as "steampunk". He points out that the term "steampunk" was originally derived from "cyberpunk," and that, though the two genres share certain fannish roots, they have little in common otherwise. For one thing, there is very little punk in steampunk. Hence, gaslamp fantasy.
Gilgamesh Wulfenbach: Gil is the love interest in the aforementioned Phil Foglio's wonderful gaslamp fantasy comic, Girl Genius. He is short-tempered, brilliant, and slightly insane. Everything a love interest should be.
Heterodyne: Heterodyne is the family name of the heroine and titular character of the aforementioned Girl Genius. She is, as you might have guessed, a girl, and a genius. She's also slightly nuts. She hails from a long line of slightly nuts geniuses with a proud and storied history of wreaking havoc on the feudal lands of AU Europe from their stronghold and family castle (also brilliant, also insane) in a cheery and demented little town called Mechanicsburg.
Cornish: Alas, I don't know very much about Cornish, since there is very little in the way of free Cornish resources round about the internets, but it was the language to introduce me to two concepts I find really cool. The first was the idea that English has "cousins" within its language system, that are constructed upon almost identical phonetic, morphological and syntactic principles. See, previously, my experience with other languages has included only ones that engender, in the learning and speaking thereof, a complete shift in frame of reference. They had different structures and different first principles form English and from one another, and I always felt myself beginning to think differently when I studied them, or heard them spoken. But when I first heard Cornish spoken, I almost felt as if I ought to understand it. It seemed so... familiar.
The second was the concept of a dying language. I was familiar with extant languages, I had knowledge of dead ones, but this was my first encounter with a system of communication that was actually going extinct. Something about that just changed the way I view language and communication. Everyone who spends much time thinking about How People Talk has probably had this epiphany, but it was Cornish that got me to think about language as a dynamic, living thing that grows and evolves and dies like any organism. But I still won't split an infinitive. :P