I respect this avant-garde position enormously, but I want to poke at it. Take, for example, the French appropriation of Hollywood film noir when they invented New Wave. Goddard was adapting these romantic American models, these crime texts. Then he destroyed them, fought them, chopped them up. In interviews, he talks about the resistance to this material, how his films avoided the obvious gestures of his sources. And yes, there’s enormous energy in these acts of resistance and disruption. But after they have done this two or three times—and it’s an enormous font of material for them—what are they not admitting to themselves about what they love and desire? The things you choose to transform are the things you love, even if you unmake them. You’re still participating in them.
Do you think the same critique applies to a writer like Kenneth Goldsmith and his work in reformatting the New York Times or traffic and weather reports? Or is he just using material, interested in how formats change how we see the material?
No, that’s fair enough. I don’t think he has a feeling of closeness to the Times. He’s transforming his sources into pure language, in a way. But Kenny Goldsmith is at the extreme edge, I’d say. In the other edge, let’s say, is a very talented fan writer who writes very delicate, in-character Star Trek stories, filling in the detail in a very respectful way, but without transforming the world at all. Identifying those two extremes is like the Led Zeppelin–Graceland continuum we discussed. Goldsmith and the respectful fanfiction writer are the limit cases—what everyone else does falls in between.
As a writer and copyright holder, how do you reconcile the “open source” ethos with the need to make a living?
I’m not Lawrence Lessig; I don’t have proposals. I make my living partly by propagation of copyright. I grew up in it; I’m attached to it. I don’t have the vision, but my instinct leads me to believe there are protections afforded my work that are absurd. It’s like there’s ten miles of frosting on a cake. I like the cake, I might cling to the cake, but it definitely doesn’t need all that frosting.
Some people would say that I have a right not to see certain things done to my characters while I’m still around, and maybe I can see that. But I believe that after I’m gone, my work belongs to the culture. A lot of people’s reactions have to do with how long it takes for it to be okay, and I think it starts being okay really quickly. It’s nice that I get to make a living, but a lot of artists don’t. It is easy to exaggerate making a living into some kind of nativist right. I’m lucky, but I’m in a rare category. Most people participate in culture for free, or it costs them money. I went into it knowing that, and I did it anyway. I got lucky, but I still try to ignore the money and just make and respond to art.
Patricia Storms slashed you with Michael Chabon in comic form, and I know you’ve expressed an interest in being slashed. Who would you want to be slashed with, Mr. Lethem?
Oh, it’s not up to me! Please surprise me. The thing about asking to be slashed, you’re begging to be distracted. But you can’t protest these things. My tiny share of fame—it puts my name up for grabs. I accept that. It’s not that I feel I’m so terribly important, that anyone is obligated to have fantasies about me. But if you accept my view that intellectual property is kind of a chimera, then that includes the names and personae of we who drift into the public sphere. I’m a fiction, inventing myself as I go along—but why should I be the only one with the right?
Amber Benson is an actor, writer, and filmmaker. Much beloved for her portrayal of Tara on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Amber seems to create in most media these days. She is cocreator of Ghosts of Albion, a transmedia property that began life as an animated web series and continued via novels and a roleplaying game. She has made several films; has written the Calliope Reaper-Jones series of novels and a children’s book; and has collaborated on several comic books for the Buffyverse, revisiting as a writer the character she’d played for years. Fic writers also revisit this character. A lot. Here, Amber writes about how internet accessibility, participatory culture, and transmedia have transformed highly structured divisions into an atmosphere of (sometimes confusing) creative flux.
Blurring the Lines
Amber Benson
There used to be a hard-and-fast rule. There was “them” and then there was “us.” “Them” was made up of artists—the people who created TV shows, books, films, music, and visual art. “Us” was the group of people who consumed what they made. “Them” was set apart from “us” because “them” was creating material that was then disseminated, on a large scale, to “us” out there in the real world. “Us” could enjoy “them” and their work, but “us” could not contribute to the creations we loved in any appreciable fashion.
But then something interesting happened: the internet took over the world, and this hard-and-fast rule slowly began to disintegrate. All of a sudden, “us” was able to horn in on “them” and their creative process in a very public way—most notably in the form of fanfiction.
fanfiction
All lowercase letters.
No spaces.
No CAPS.
I have a weird perspective on the subject.
I am an actor, sometimes.
And I once played a character who’s a fanfiction favorite.
I hear she/I does a whole lot of “slash-ing” . . . wait, that’s not the proper use of the word. This might be better: I hear there is a lot of slash fanfiction about her/me on the internet. Which is kind of sad because this means the fanfiction version of her/me is getting a lot more action than the real me.
Before I get started, I should clarify exactly who/what I am. If the name in the byline is unfamiliar to you, you might recognize the title of the show I appeared in, or the name of the character I played in that show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Tara Maclay, respectively.
Just FYI, I had to go online and look up whether or not the “c” in Maclay is capitalized. You would think from the amount of time I spent pretending to be this fictional character (three years), I would know how to spell her last name properly. But the truth is, there are a lot of fans out there who know way more about her than I do.
And some of these more knowledgeable fans write fanfiction.
I try not to read fanfiction about her/me. I think it would be awkward and I’d forever be left wondering why she/I am so much cooler on paper/the internet than I am in real life. I am also leery of reading anything about her/me because I really don’t want to read about my pretend-self doing naughty things with characters/people whom I may or may not be attracted to in real life.
When I was on Buffy (this was many, many moons ago), not looking at Buffy fanfiction was another hard-and-fast rule. People are litigious, so anything written by a fan and sent in to the writers/producers was not supposed to be read. I have retrofitted this rule to fit my own needs—mostly because of the not-wanting-to-think-about-me-doing-naughty-things-with-fictional-characters worry—so just know that when I see you at a science fiction convention and you hand me your fanfiction about Tara/me, I will smile and take it . . . but I am probably not going to read it if Tara/me is being a dirty birdy.
I have been known to read fanfiction about other things, things I have no creative/personal stake in. I might even read the Buffy stuff you write, unless you have Tara Maclay giving cunnilingus to Counselor Troi (who is, by far, my father’s favorite Star Trek Betty). If you hand me something like that then I am probably going to take a pass.
Pause.
I must preface all of this with a disclaimer: I have cowritten (along with Christopher Golden) a few Willow/Tara comic books. There is a difference between writing these comics and writing fanfiction and it comes down to two things: the storylines for the comics are carefully vetted by Dark Horse Comics/20th Century Fox, and there is no cunnilingus in them. (Well, at least none that ended up on the page. Maybe some dirty bits were excised before the comics went to print . . . and now you’ll forever wonder if I was just pulling your leg or if there really was excised cunnilingus in those
comic books, right?)
I think we can all agree there’s something meta about my situation, something Adaptation-like about the layer upon layer of weirdness. Well, let me just tell you that, though you may think my creative life is meta, it’s nowhere near as meta as the creative life of my friend Javier Grillo-Marxuach.
Be prepared. This might knock your meta-socks off.
My friend Javi is truly one of the kindest, most gifted writer/producers I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And he possesses two qualities I very much value in other creative individuals: he treats the business of show like a team sport, and he has a genuine interest in helping others . . . unlike a lot of the people I’ve met in Hollywood.
Oh, and there’s a third thing, too.
He’s an honest-to-God Fan.
With a capital “F.”
So, to just point out the blurring of the lines here, Javi is not just an artist, he is also a fan. Where he is concerned, the words artist and fan are synonymous.
A few years ago, Javi created a brilliant television show for ABC Family called The Middleman. (To up the meta-quotient, The Middleman was a comic book before it was adapted for television.)
The Middleman had (and still has) a dedicated fan following—especially for its plucky, intelligent female heroine, Wendy Watson (played by actress Natalie Morales). So, needless to say, there were a lot of frustrated fans when the show was pulled off the air after only one season.
And one of those frustrated fans was Javi himself.
Three years later, he did something about it.
In the ultimate meta-fanfiction crossover, Javi wrote a fanfiction piece about his own show . . . and Doctor Who.
You can go to The Middle Blog over at LiveJournal and read his fanfiction story in its entirety. I really think you should. It’s quite brilliant, weaving together the best of The Middleman with Javi’s passionate love of Doctor Who—but what was so intriguing to me was not the piece itself (as cool as it is), but what it represented about the blurring of lines.
I realized that as much as we try to put a divide between the two worlds (“them” and “us”), there really isn’t one anymore. Not with the advent of transmedia, the rise of creator-owned content on the internet, the domination of Twitter and Facebook. Not when Twilight fanfiction becomes a bestselling series of erotica novels. Not when the guy who made The Middleman decides to write a fanfiction piece about the television show he created because he’s still interested in telling stories about his characters.
All of these components have created a perfect storm that will forever knock down the wall of separation between artist and audience.
Would it be crazy to postulate, then, that with the blurring of these lines, the words “artist” and “fan” have become interchangeable in some ways? Just because you created a character, it doesn’t mean you get to tell the whole of their story—especially if you sell your characters to studios/television networks/comic book companies. Suddenly, these conglomerates own your creative content and they get to decide its fate. Making you, for all intents and purposes, just another fan of the thing that you happened to create.
This has been going on in the comics world forever. Poor comic book superheroes get passed around like hookers at a gangbang—they’ve always got someone new writing about them, drawing them, adding to their mythology.
So, by the same token, when a fan writes fanfiction, one might equate them to just another writer for hire on a project—they’re just not getting paid in money for their work. For them, the payment is the sheer joy of writing for characters they love. They are no longer just a “fan.” Now they are an “artist.”
I’m going to insert myself in here again because I’m still trying to figure out where I fit into all of this.
As an actor, I gave my voice and face to a character who someone else created and wrote all the dialogue for. When someone sits down to write fanfiction about my character, they are envisioning and often describing that same face and voice, which happen to belong to me, but which I lent to the character when I played the part.
Working on the Willow/Tara comic books as a writer, I wrote about/for the character I played on Buffy. At that point, I became an artist who was using my own face and voice to give continuing life to a fictional character whom I played on television, but did not create.
See? It’s all very confusing.
Then add in how accessible everything is via the internet—which is a huge tool when one wants to go about “blurring the lines”—and it’s even more troubling. On Twitter, am I just me, Amber Benson? Or am I an actor named Amber Benson who played a character called Tara Maclay? Or am I only seen as Tara Maclay, the character from that television show you loved to watch, who for unknown reasons likes to go around calling herself Amber Benson?
Also, am I somehow creating fanfiction when I interact with people on the internet—adding to my real-life, personal continuing storyline and to the now-defunct storyline of the character I played on television? This makes my head spin, and does nothing to answer the real question: If we can’t tell who the “artists” are, and if the “fans” are just as hard to categorize, then where does that leave us?
I actually think that—barring my own existential identity crisis—it leaves us in a very good place. Fanfiction has pried open a door, allowing fans a chance to participate in the continuing storylines of the characters they love. The internet has given these fans and their fanfiction a high-profile stage so that the world can find and enjoy their artistic endeavors. It has also given “artists” a chance to create outside of the system—like Javi and his Middleman fanfiction—and to address questions, comments, and suggestions from their “fans” directly and in a creative way.
For better or worse, it looks as though the lines have been forever blurred. I just wish this essay had given me a little more personal clarity. Maybe I’ll just follow Javi’s example and go write some fanfiction. Maybe a little Amber/Tara slash fanfiction—so I can really confuse myself . . .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I WOULD LIKE TO THANK, first and foremost, the many writers and readers of fanfiction who have engaged with me over the years. They are too many to be named and some don’t want to be named, but they have all challenged and educated me.
I am enormously grateful to everyone who helped write this book: my coauthors, the Fic contributors, and those who agreed to be interviewed. My editor Leah Wilson also felt like a coauthor. Even Twitter sometimes felt like a coauthor as it provided countless tips, links, fact-checks, recommendations, and sustained debates (looking at you, @einfach_mich and @LyricalKris). Gretchen, Ivy Blossom, Jane, and Myg, as well as many contributors were especially generous with their time and insights. My agent, Michael Bourret, has helped me intellectually as well as in very practical ways during what were (for me) difficult days. All the editorial and production folks at Smart Pop have been incredible, supportive, and a pleasure to work with.
Thank you also to all who helped make my summer 2010 Theories of Popular Culture class a real intellectual adventure: the writers BellaFlan, Algonquinrt/d0tpark3r, ItzMegan73, The Black Arrow, Snowqueens Icedragon, Sebastien Robichaud, Anais Mark, AngstGoddess003, Mrs. TheKing, Gondolier, and m81170 shared their fics and, in many cases, time and insights with my class. tby789, LolaShoes, Ms Kathy, HMonster, and Sleepy Valentina were also an important part of the conversation. The students of ENGL 5960—Myles Barker, Kacey Bowles, Elizabeth Cornwall, Molly Daines, Chris Dammert, Edward Granda, Joshua Lund, Jesse Maynes, Michelle McKonkie, Pace Measom, Gillian Nelson, Dai Newman, Katie Prottengeier, Cooper Savage, Mary Jane Snyder, and Richard Wentworth—were in a class by themselves (no, but really) and all made important contributions to a field they had no idea even existed before the beginning of class, as well as to this book. Over the years, the Utah Browncoats and some lovely Spuffy communities on LiveJournal have been generous with my students and me as well.
My family has been very patient and supportive as t
his project turned out to be a lot more extensive than I’d anticipated. I can’t imagine anyone better suited to helping me think through alternative methods of writing and reading than my beloved partner, Craig Dworkin, who also made the coffee that fueled this project from its inception.
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS
Cyndy Aleo (algonquinrt/d0tp@rk3r) is a freelance writer, editor, and book reviewer who still reads more fanfiction than anyone probably should. Her involvement with Twilight has been reduced to re-watching the films with RiffTrax accompaniment, though she still rants on occasion. Her debut novel, Undying, is out now in ebook. You can find her on Twitter at @cyndyaleo.
V. Arrow (aimmyarrowshigh) graduated from Knox College in 2008 with degrees in history and creative writing, specializing in twentieth-century pop culture and young adult lit. Under another name, she has previously published at Pop Matters, The One Love, Tommy2. net, and The Hollywood Reporter. She believes that pop culture affects, reflects, and informs all aspects of daily life in Western culture and that it is perhaps the most crucial form of media expression to analyze and discuss.
Tish Beaty (his_tweet) was part of the team that in 2010 developed The Writer’s Coffee Shop Publishing House. During her time with TWCS, she managed both authors and editors, and edited many titles, including the #1 New York Times bestseller Fifty Shades of Grey. No topic is taboo on her author blog, tishbeaty.com, and healthy living recipes can be found on her site lusciousandhealthyliving.blogspot.com. When not wrangling her kids, cooking, or blogging, Tish can be found presenting self-editing and character development tips. Recent publications include an essay in Fifty Writers on Fifty Shades of Grey as well as a short story in the anthology We Love NY!
Brad Bell is cocreator, executive producer, and star of the newlywed sitcom Husbands, for which he has won writing and acting awards. Last year, he coauthored Husbands: The Comic with Jane Espenson and served as consulting producer for VH1’s Pop Up Video. Since 2008, Bell has produced short-form satire on YouTube and released electronic music on iTunes as his online persona, “Cheeks.”
Fic: Why Fanfiction Is Taking Over the World Page 44
