Revisiting Ameeya
May. 15th, 2017 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hollydbSo I’ve been quiet over here for the past few weeks, but I’ve remained busy in fandomy stuff. For one thing, I’m now approximately halfway through my edit of Harbingers of Beatrice (and it’s been difficult as, for reasons previously stated). I also completed The Longest Distance, my contribution for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
seasonal_spuffy. And yes, I have been plotting new stuff.
In the midst of this, I am also returning to Strawberry Fields. This story I’ve already edited (and it thankfully didn’t take long, as it was a later work) and will be updating on EF and AO3 once I actually add new words to it. But even though that story began under my other penname (Ameeya), it will be continued as Holly. Last night, Susan over at EF made that official by moving my Ameeya fics to my Holly handle.
And that got me thinking about things I haven’t thought about in a while—namely, why I started writing under a penname after I was already established as Holly. At first, I didn’t 100% recall all the circumstances that led to this decision, only that I hadn’t enjoyed writing and writing anonymously helped. I did know, though, that I had other reasons, and refreshed my memory with my coming-out post. Now, being more than ten years older, I believe it essentially boiled down to my putting too much pressure on myself as well as being too sensitive to the multitude of conversations were essentially arguing against particular fanon lore. It also had to do with my anxiety disorder, but I didn't know that at the time.
In my memory (meaning how I took it, not necessarily how it was), a lot of these conversations devolved into “The Things You Shouldn’t Do In Fanfic.” And one of those things I was definitely doing—that is, the fanon convention of claiming. I was very sensitive about this because I did it pretty much all the time. I also became involved in a few conversations that exploded into all-out arguments, which triggered my anxiety disorder (I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time, but I was way too invested in what was being said, in that it dominated my mind in an unhealthy way that interfered with work, school, and my personal time). Every time I found myself involved, directly or not, in a fandom wank, I became convinced that the thing I valued most at the time—writing these stories—would be taken from me as a result.
In case you’re curious, yes, I now know that’s a stupid thing to think. But anxiety can make you stupid. Not only that, anxiety is incredibly creative. It not only tells you what could happen but lays down a series of steps that, outlandish or not, seem perfectly plausible. And if I was hated in fandom, what joy would there be in writing for it?
Beyond the claiming thing, I was also hyper-aware of every freakin’ word I wrote as I believed I had developed a reputation that I wanted to uphold. As I said in that initial post more than ten years ago, I lost the fun in writing. I believed that what I enjoyed writing was Bad™ and I was Bad™ for liking it, that I alienated people for writing it, that I had alienated myself for being outspoken or getting into arguments, and essentially this escape I’d made for myself was gone.
I must remind you at this point that I was in my late teens/early 20s and in college. I didn’t have a social life—fandom was my social life. It’s where I spent my Saturday nights. Hell, it’s where I spent every night. I was Norm Peterson and fandom was my Cheers, and the thought of not being able to go there made me feel ill.
I didn’t start dating until I was 23 (also due to anxiety reasons, but that’s another post). I didn’t start appreciating real world problems until after I graduated. I didn’t have life experiences like a mortgage, a wedding, crippling debt, or the loss of a parent to compare what I was feeling at the time the way I do now. I was an incredibly privileged kid in so many ways, my anxiety disorder and body image issues notwithstanding. So things that seemed dire at the time now seem ridiculous. But the reason was this: then, fandom was my life, and writing under Ameeya was my way to save it. It was Norm Peterson putting on a fake mustache and hoping Sam and Carla didn’t call him out on it. Because, regardless of what was actually happening at the time, in my head, I had done/said things that made me think I wasn’t welcome.
And that’s how Beloved in Blood happened.
I read a recent review of Beloved in Blood last night—recent as in, someone left it last month. The review was critical and deservedly so. It was also very well stated. The reviewer listed the things that were wrong with the fic in a straightforward, kind manner. They were right on pretty much everything.
For instance: Angel was incredibly out of character, as was Giles. There were some serious non-con concerns too, that I didn’t treat then as I would now. I say this with a relatively fresh memory, as I’ve reread Beloved in Blood recently, and I can confirm it’s a piece of pure fanon fluff.
The thing is, I had an absolute ball writing it. If fandom was my Cheers, writing that story was the equivalent of Norm being snowed in at the bar unsupervised for a weekend. I mean it—I remember cranking out 10k a day on that thing because I wasn’t thinking about things like canon or sounding perfect or upholding a reputation that may or may not have existed. I was writing for the joy of writing and I was doing all the things that I knew I shouldn’t—villainizing Angel (who I actually really like, unlike some other Spuffy fans) being among them.
It was fun until it wasn’t—roughly, when Norm got the hangover and the bill. I found myself more or less where I started, only this time I was sure there was no way out. I’d hurt some of my friends by writing under a penname, which made me feel like shit. I was incredibly naïve at the time. When the ceiling crashed on that, I hit critical levels in my anxiety that writing Spuffy would be taken from me. It was Serious with a capital S this time.
Again, anxiety can be very persuasive.
Obviously, I got over it, and the first step in doing that was owning up. I think I could have owned up better, but hindsight being what it is, I did the best I could at the time. I also vowed to not get involved in fandom talk anymore, which was also naïve because fandom is nothing if not talking about the things you love. But after the Ameeya fiasco, after owning it, I reached a point in my fandom writing where I was able to do the thing I set out to do, and that was force myself to not care what others thought about what I wrote. I don’t know how I did this, but I did. Perhaps embracing what I’d done was a form of fandom CBT—that is, not ignoring the fear but moving toward it. I don’t know. All I can say is that’s how and why I remained another four years in fandom before ultimately leaving to pursue original writing.
But again speaking from the point of being 10 years out of that experience, I can also say that one of the instigating factors that led to my Ameeya disguise was also one I was overtly defensive about. That is, I took it way too personally when people said they disliked claiming fics. It felt personal at the time, even though it wasn’t. It felt that way because claiming fics were really important to me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about claiming in fics, as it happens, mainly because I’m writing fanfic again and editing the old ones. The 30-something writer I am now understands why people don’t like them. I’ve actually gotten to a point where I’m closer to ambivalent on the subject because they are fanon. I’m by no means a canon purist, but relying on them in everything started to seem a little too easy. I get that.
But the reason I loved them then is the same reason I will stand by them now. It’s the reason I made Buffy immortal in The Wallverse. It’s the reason I write romance novels.
That reason? I like HEAs.
It’s stupidly simple, isn’t it?
When I read about couples falling in love, I want an HEA. If I don’t want an HEA, I go outside the Romance genre. For instance, I don’t bank on HEAs when I pick up a Stephen King or Gillian Flynn novel. But if I’m reading fanfic or Romance, it’s because I want the couple to end up together. I wrote fanfic to get Spike and Buffy together in the first place—to get them their HEA. And for me, it’s not an HEA if one partner is immortal and the other isn’t.
Claiming was my way of ensuring that, in my head, their HEA doesn’t end just because of aging.
Now, realistically this doesn’t mean they will literally be happy forever—something I wanted to explore in myseasonal_spuffy fic—because saying goodbye to loved ones is the most difficult thing a person can do. I know this intimately now in ways I didn’t ten years ago.
But instead of being defensive and justifying my reasons for fanfic as artistic expression, perhaps I could have saved myself a ton of anxiety by saying exactly what I just said above. Being forthright was also not one of my strong suits at the time. It is now. I have always been a romance writer—it took actually writing romance novels to really appreciate that. I don’t like writing tragic endings. I like happy ones. Even my angstiest fics end with everyone more or less happy. And for as much as I might have changed in the last 10+ years, that much is going to remain the same. I read to escape a world that is too goddamn terrifying. At the time, it was Bush. Now it’s the loss of my father, worrying about my brother, news-induced anxiety, and a slew of other things. The real world is negative enough, so I want my fictional worlds to be safe.
That was why I loved claiming, and the reason I likely won’t be getting rid of it as I edit my backlist. It’s why claiming might show up in anything new I write, or some other handy excuse that keeps Spike and Buffy together for the long-run. I’ve made her a vampire before; maybe I can make her some other kind of demon. Or maybe I can just apply my rules from The Wallverse to everything. I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to the ride.
I'm also looking forward to being in fandom as I am now, because as much fun as it was then—and however much I needed it—making fandom Cheers put way too much on it and myself.
Or maybe it still can be Cheers; I just won't be Norm anymore.
seasonal_spuffy. And yes, I have been plotting new stuff.In the midst of this, I am also returning to Strawberry Fields. This story I’ve already edited (and it thankfully didn’t take long, as it was a later work) and will be updating on EF and AO3 once I actually add new words to it. But even though that story began under my other penname (Ameeya), it will be continued as Holly. Last night, Susan over at EF made that official by moving my Ameeya fics to my Holly handle.
And that got me thinking about things I haven’t thought about in a while—namely, why I started writing under a penname after I was already established as Holly. At first, I didn’t 100% recall all the circumstances that led to this decision, only that I hadn’t enjoyed writing and writing anonymously helped. I did know, though, that I had other reasons, and refreshed my memory with my coming-out post. Now, being more than ten years older, I believe it essentially boiled down to my putting too much pressure on myself as well as being too sensitive to the multitude of conversations were essentially arguing against particular fanon lore. It also had to do with my anxiety disorder, but I didn't know that at the time.
In my memory (meaning how I took it, not necessarily how it was), a lot of these conversations devolved into “The Things You Shouldn’t Do In Fanfic.” And one of those things I was definitely doing—that is, the fanon convention of claiming. I was very sensitive about this because I did it pretty much all the time. I also became involved in a few conversations that exploded into all-out arguments, which triggered my anxiety disorder (I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time, but I was way too invested in what was being said, in that it dominated my mind in an unhealthy way that interfered with work, school, and my personal time). Every time I found myself involved, directly or not, in a fandom wank, I became convinced that the thing I valued most at the time—writing these stories—would be taken from me as a result.
In case you’re curious, yes, I now know that’s a stupid thing to think. But anxiety can make you stupid. Not only that, anxiety is incredibly creative. It not only tells you what could happen but lays down a series of steps that, outlandish or not, seem perfectly plausible. And if I was hated in fandom, what joy would there be in writing for it?
Beyond the claiming thing, I was also hyper-aware of every freakin’ word I wrote as I believed I had developed a reputation that I wanted to uphold. As I said in that initial post more than ten years ago, I lost the fun in writing. I believed that what I enjoyed writing was Bad™ and I was Bad™ for liking it, that I alienated people for writing it, that I had alienated myself for being outspoken or getting into arguments, and essentially this escape I’d made for myself was gone.
I must remind you at this point that I was in my late teens/early 20s and in college. I didn’t have a social life—fandom was my social life. It’s where I spent my Saturday nights. Hell, it’s where I spent every night. I was Norm Peterson and fandom was my Cheers, and the thought of not being able to go there made me feel ill.
I didn’t start dating until I was 23 (also due to anxiety reasons, but that’s another post). I didn’t start appreciating real world problems until after I graduated. I didn’t have life experiences like a mortgage, a wedding, crippling debt, or the loss of a parent to compare what I was feeling at the time the way I do now. I was an incredibly privileged kid in so many ways, my anxiety disorder and body image issues notwithstanding. So things that seemed dire at the time now seem ridiculous. But the reason was this: then, fandom was my life, and writing under Ameeya was my way to save it. It was Norm Peterson putting on a fake mustache and hoping Sam and Carla didn’t call him out on it. Because, regardless of what was actually happening at the time, in my head, I had done/said things that made me think I wasn’t welcome.
And that’s how Beloved in Blood happened.
I read a recent review of Beloved in Blood last night—recent as in, someone left it last month. The review was critical and deservedly so. It was also very well stated. The reviewer listed the things that were wrong with the fic in a straightforward, kind manner. They were right on pretty much everything.
For instance: Angel was incredibly out of character, as was Giles. There were some serious non-con concerns too, that I didn’t treat then as I would now. I say this with a relatively fresh memory, as I’ve reread Beloved in Blood recently, and I can confirm it’s a piece of pure fanon fluff.
The thing is, I had an absolute ball writing it. If fandom was my Cheers, writing that story was the equivalent of Norm being snowed in at the bar unsupervised for a weekend. I mean it—I remember cranking out 10k a day on that thing because I wasn’t thinking about things like canon or sounding perfect or upholding a reputation that may or may not have existed. I was writing for the joy of writing and I was doing all the things that I knew I shouldn’t—villainizing Angel (who I actually really like, unlike some other Spuffy fans) being among them.
It was fun until it wasn’t—roughly, when Norm got the hangover and the bill. I found myself more or less where I started, only this time I was sure there was no way out. I’d hurt some of my friends by writing under a penname, which made me feel like shit. I was incredibly naïve at the time. When the ceiling crashed on that, I hit critical levels in my anxiety that writing Spuffy would be taken from me. It was Serious with a capital S this time.
Again, anxiety can be very persuasive.
Obviously, I got over it, and the first step in doing that was owning up. I think I could have owned up better, but hindsight being what it is, I did the best I could at the time. I also vowed to not get involved in fandom talk anymore, which was also naïve because fandom is nothing if not talking about the things you love. But after the Ameeya fiasco, after owning it, I reached a point in my fandom writing where I was able to do the thing I set out to do, and that was force myself to not care what others thought about what I wrote. I don’t know how I did this, but I did. Perhaps embracing what I’d done was a form of fandom CBT—that is, not ignoring the fear but moving toward it. I don’t know. All I can say is that’s how and why I remained another four years in fandom before ultimately leaving to pursue original writing.
But again speaking from the point of being 10 years out of that experience, I can also say that one of the instigating factors that led to my Ameeya disguise was also one I was overtly defensive about. That is, I took it way too personally when people said they disliked claiming fics. It felt personal at the time, even though it wasn’t. It felt that way because claiming fics were really important to me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about claiming in fics, as it happens, mainly because I’m writing fanfic again and editing the old ones. The 30-something writer I am now understands why people don’t like them. I’ve actually gotten to a point where I’m closer to ambivalent on the subject because they are fanon. I’m by no means a canon purist, but relying on them in everything started to seem a little too easy. I get that.
But the reason I loved them then is the same reason I will stand by them now. It’s the reason I made Buffy immortal in The Wallverse. It’s the reason I write romance novels.
That reason? I like HEAs.
It’s stupidly simple, isn’t it?
When I read about couples falling in love, I want an HEA. If I don’t want an HEA, I go outside the Romance genre. For instance, I don’t bank on HEAs when I pick up a Stephen King or Gillian Flynn novel. But if I’m reading fanfic or Romance, it’s because I want the couple to end up together. I wrote fanfic to get Spike and Buffy together in the first place—to get them their HEA. And for me, it’s not an HEA if one partner is immortal and the other isn’t.
Claiming was my way of ensuring that, in my head, their HEA doesn’t end just because of aging.
Now, realistically this doesn’t mean they will literally be happy forever—something I wanted to explore in my
seasonal_spuffy fic—because saying goodbye to loved ones is the most difficult thing a person can do. I know this intimately now in ways I didn’t ten years ago.But instead of being defensive and justifying my reasons for fanfic as artistic expression, perhaps I could have saved myself a ton of anxiety by saying exactly what I just said above. Being forthright was also not one of my strong suits at the time. It is now. I have always been a romance writer—it took actually writing romance novels to really appreciate that. I don’t like writing tragic endings. I like happy ones. Even my angstiest fics end with everyone more or less happy. And for as much as I might have changed in the last 10+ years, that much is going to remain the same. I read to escape a world that is too goddamn terrifying. At the time, it was Bush. Now it’s the loss of my father, worrying about my brother, news-induced anxiety, and a slew of other things. The real world is negative enough, so I want my fictional worlds to be safe.
That was why I loved claiming, and the reason I likely won’t be getting rid of it as I edit my backlist. It’s why claiming might show up in anything new I write, or some other handy excuse that keeps Spike and Buffy together for the long-run. I’ve made her a vampire before; maybe I can make her some other kind of demon. Or maybe I can just apply my rules from The Wallverse to everything. I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to the ride.
I'm also looking forward to being in fandom as I am now, because as much fun as it was then—and however much I needed it—making fandom Cheers put way too much on it and myself.
Or maybe it still can be Cheers; I just won't be Norm anymore.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-15 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-05-15 09:31 pm (UTC)And I bet your muse will find her way home soon.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 02:09 am (UTC)But I do remember the edges of the claiming kerfuffles. I think I might have even have read an Ameeya story at one point, and made an ambivalent post about it (though I think the ambivalence was more about the dubcon-ish premise than claiming? I really can't remember, and it may have been another author entirely.)
ANYWAY, I just wanted to say that if I ever gave the impression that I thought people shouldn't write whatever the hell they want, whether it's something I personally enjoy or not, I'm sorry.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 02:35 am (UTC)AND I honestly don't remember the claiming kerfluffles all that well. I wouldn't have at ALL had it not been for the fact that 2006 me referenced it in my I-am-Ameeya-Ameeya-is-me post and triggered my memory. The most I remember was how it affected me at the time, and that (as I said) was due to a number of things, anxiety and being really freakin' young among them. As for the kerfluffle itself, I truly don't remember who was involved (myself excluded) or what was said. Which is funny 'cause it mattered a whole helluva lot at the time.
And at any rate, this post wasn't directed at anyone who was involved in those kerfluffles -- rather I was thinking back on all of it and had some thoughts on what I think motivated some of young!Holly's decisions. I could then, and still can, pull an insult out of the jaws of a compliment. I was really sensitive, insecure, young, hotheaded and a big ball of anxiety, and that's a lethal combination. Just took a while to grow up.
I'll let you know when I get there. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 04:36 am (UTC)That said, having been involved in probably...a dozen fandoms now? I wonder if some of the intolerance around claiming has to do with where fandom was at the time. I mean, nearly every fandom I've been involved with has fanon of some sort, some of it incomprehensible to anybody when it's not their jam. (I'm thinking about A/B/O fics that have spread through a bunch of fandoms, but started on the SPN kinkmeme.) I feel like there's more room in fandom to do your own thing, or embrace a piece of fanon or kink and folks will just shrug and hit the back button if it's not their thing.
Ten years ago, fandom was a very different place, and I wonder if there wasn't some level of entitlement where a relatively popular author was embracing a particular piece of fanon that wasn't their cup of tea. That meant less Spuffy fic for those folks to read. I mean, I've felt that way before where I've found a really good writer where I loved a fic, but when I went to read their other fics, it's clear that they mostly write a pairing that doesn't do it for me, and that one Science Bros fic was a one-off, and they generally write Steve/Tony. I mean, I keep my opinion to myself because I'm a writer and I don't like it when people tell me I shouldn't write what I'm writing, but yeah. I get the emotion behind it. And I've seen that in older fandoms that seem to split their time between gen and slash fic and how grumpy gen fans can get with slashers because they want happy family feels and not romance.
Anyway, I don't know if any of that makes sense, or even if it matters, just to say that if you wrote claiming fic now, I doubt there'd be the backlash there was 10 years ago.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 01:15 pm (UTC)And you’re right—fandom is definitely a different place now. I’ve only been “back” for a couple months and that much is very evident. And the whole pseudonym stuff had died well before I phased out… I am just struck now with how HUGE a deal that seemed to be to me at the time—everything, from the kerfluffle onward. It was a thing that happened that seemed to dominate my life in ways that were way out of proportion to what was actually happening, if that makes sense.
I can look back and identify behaviors from my childhood that are clearly stemmed in my anxiety disorder, but those behaviors were more overt. I’ve always had a tendency to catastrophize, which can distort one’s perception quite a bit. Part of that is either over-inflating or inventing threats to things you care about. When this manifests in my life now, it’s more likely to be a slightly abnormal medical test (as happened earlier this year) that has a simple, innocuous explanation, but my mind takes immediately to cancer. At the time, it was “people don’t like this = people don’t like me = I can’t write fanfic.” And since writing was pretty much the only thing I enjoyed doing, my anxiety disorder attacked it.
Like I said above, I don’t recall who was involved in that kerfluffle, but I certainly don’t think anyone who was involved was in any way responsible for the way I took it at the time. It’s just easier to see how I got there now.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 04:56 pm (UTC)the real world is negative enough, so I want my fictional worlds to be safe. This!!!! I love claiming fics and I love HEA fics, I never made the connection before between claiming fics and HEA fics but I think that's why I like them too. Plus, sexy bite-y goodness. ~_^
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 07:35 pm (UTC)Claiming as a way to guarantee an HEA is not something I limited to just Spuffy fic. In the paranormal romances I write, I always make the human half of the inhuman pair immortal. I actually think that's standard practice for most PNR authors, but I could be wrong. I haven't read too many PNRs as of late.