Dustin Goeller Kiss Me! wrote:
Reading Megane 6.7's short bit 'A Brief Look into the Mind of a
Fanfic Writer,' I realized that perhaps I'm not as different when it
comes to writing as I may have originally thought. And, it made me
ponder just what everyone else must go through when they write a fic.
So, I have decided to issue a semi-challange. Write a shortfic, like
Megane's, which depicts what you have to go through when you try to
write a fic. It can be exaggerated, but be careful. The object of
this is to get an idea of what horrors befall you when you write, and
not a self-ego booster. You can go about this in anyway you want. You
can do it like Megane, in first person. Or you can make it in third
person with a script format. Whatever you want.
I do have one request though. Try to keep it under 25k. I don't think
too many people would want to read a two hundred page story on how
your computer won't recognize the 'G' key. Other than that, your
pretty much free to do what you want. (Something tells me I'm going
to regret saying those words.)
Well, I wrote my little story and released it back in July. Since
someone decided to open it up again...
"Inside my heart is breaking,
my makeup may be flaking
but my smile still stays on."
-- Queen, "The Show Must Go On"
Leifker Presents...
A Real Fanfic Writer
A work of non-fiction by Nicholas Leifker
All rights reserved. I ask that you not do anything with any part of
this work without the author's permission.
************************************************************************
"Mackie looked down at herself, her brow etched with worry. She
felt so inadequate for this job, so unprepared for the battle to come.
In crises like these, Sylia always knew what to do, handling the
problems with her typical style and grace. All she could do was guess,
and hope for the best. Even the clothes she wore seemed wrong; Sylia
would have dazzled them with some haute couture outfit, rather than look
like a participant in the Mummer's Parade. To sum it up, the Knight
Sabers didn't need Mackie Stingray right now; they needed a legend - and
a miracle."
I look over the passage one more time, trying to find... something,
whatever little bit is in there that makes it sound so wrong. The first
draft of the passage seemed too short and abbreviated; this one seems
long-winded. I let the paper drop to the bed and prepare to pack up my
writing. I know I'm not going to write any more tonight.
*************************************************************************
Two years. Only two years ago, I was a burned-out, frustrated
college student just learning about something called "anime". I've
learned so much since then... including things I didn't want to know. I
am stronger than I once was, but more frightened than I ever imagined.
You see, I am a fanfic writer, one of many out there in the
electronic wastes. Like a majority of them, I focus on Ranma, though I
do not limit myself to only one title. I have ideas swimming in my
head, ideas barely born in the world... but could someday be so vivid as
to almost be tangible.
Two years ago... I searched through the ol' Web, looking for any
Ranma information I could find. Fate brought me to the fanfic guide...
and my imagination did the rest. There, stored neatly in one archive,
were some of the finest works of fanfiction available at the time, and I
stormed in like a man possessed. Biles made me laugh, Palmer made me
smile, but Benares did something far greater... he made me think.
Spurred on by such writings, it was not long before I tried my hand
at the craft. It is... when it is done right, it is very much like
riding a horse. You are in control... but only to an extent.
Oftentimes (and this is when it gets magical, people) the stories write
themselves, with only your hand to follow the path it takes. It also
takes some practice. My first idea was a bust; I didn't know enough
about the character of Akari at the time to make it work.
The second was a strange, artsy-fartsy idea. The first draft took
only a week, but it was a couple of months before "Sunrise" was finally
released.
Things seemed to blur from there. From a whirlwind of writing on
Easter Sunday to a month struggling over a Kodachi work, I weaved my
tales, finding voice for my soul in the written word. No idea was too
ridiculous (I once thought of "Circe Project" as such), nor any idea too
ambitious. While my own youthful immortality was fading, my soul
continued to fly on the edge, its love and sorrow like music in my mind.
To my surprise, I found my own voice changing as I continued to
speak. Honour took on new meaning as it saw life and death in the
stories, as did love, happiness, and faith. Demons sprang up, faults of
myself that I had to learn to overcome, making me stronger. From my
madness and ego I learned humility; from a rival-to-friend's patience, I
learned the value of the virtue; and from the many lives that form the
ML, I learned tolerance, something my younger self would have sneered
at.
Then it all went wrong.
Even months after, it's difficult to explain what happened, the
darkness I went through that time. I thought I was staring at someone
else... but found only a mirror there, a looking-glass into who I am.
To put it bluntly, boys and girls, I have seen the future, and it scares
the shit out of me. And, all through it, I had to carry a smile, and
not let the screams out into the open. Still... while I have almost
paralyzing fears, I have no regrets. I am who I am, and I can (and
will) live with this.
Now... for the moment, I am in limbo. I can't write exactly like I
used to; the tears are lessened, but closer to the skin. I've become
accustomed to writing by computer, so the pencil-and-paper method is
notoriously slow unless I am _possessed_ by an idea. Finally, I am not
quite who I was, and this is taking some getting used to. At least I
know the man I am now. Not many can claim that.
*************************************************************************
I look over at the clock, and frown. 12:30 AM. I prepare for bed,
as my 8-to-6 job (with overtime ^_^ ) calls, and I value my sleep.
Before I go, though, a strange impulse seizes me, bringing me to a
stack of printouts. I look through it, searching for one in
particular. Stuck in between "Bitter End" and "Putting Your Heart in
the Right Place", I find words sung with hope, and innocence.
"The young woman stood, katana at the ready, her body and mind in
absolute focus as the sun began to set, its fire dancing off of her
sword, shoulder-length brown hair, and black satin Mandarin-style
outfit. Her adult features, hardened by life but lacking the decay of
age, marked her in her mid-twenties, though the pain shadowed in her
eyes suggested a much greater age. A small amount of that pain escaped
as she and the small dummy before her became an instant blur."
The first fanfic words I posted - the opening to "Sunrise". The
work stays pure and raw in my mind, a beacon to show the beginning, and
how far I've come since then. There have been good times so far, with
people I consider myself honored to know and call friend, and I wouldn't
trade them for anything in the world - including the rough times.
They aren't over yet, I hope - not by a longshot.
*************************************************************************
Nicholas Leifker
stormwalker@airmail.net (now nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu)
http://http.tamu.edu:8000/~nwl9354
July 10, 1997