Posted in personal, writing
January 14, 2012

Confession: I used to write fanfiction.

If you’ve hung around the internet long enough, you’ve probably heard about fanfiction. Where writers take an existing work (book, comic, movie, television show) and write stories about it. Sometimes of an adult nature. Sometimes smashing together “fandoms” (the distinct properties) and coming up with something new.

Yes, I wrote fanfiction. You can shake your head all you like- just stop if your brain starts to rattle around. After Pirates of the Caribbean came out, I had an idea for a spinoff adventure and started writing it. In doing so, I got involved in fandom and learned a lot about writing. I had access to people (mostly women) who wrote all sorts of things, used fanfiction to experiment in styles… it was pretty great. (It wasn’t all great, but that’s a post for another day)

After awhile, I no longer felt the siren’s call of fanfic, and had a lot of projects of my own that I felt brave enough to tackle. I slowly left the communities, though I do keep in touch with some of the writers I was close to.

Here’s the list of the fandoms I played around in. I wrote some things in Pirates, King Arthur, Once Upon a Time in Mexico and Kill Bill. And Supernatural (the television series). Nearly forgot about that one. I didn’t write a huge volume of fanfiction, either in frequency or length. I knew women who wrote epics every single week- I preferred to write the occasional “ficlet.” I also didn’t finish a lot of what I wrote, as the folder of WIPs (works in progress) I found on an old computer backup can attest to. That is still a bad habit of mine.

As proof of my past, I offer two short bits from two different fandoms. Both were written in 2004, though the first I edited a bit today. There was one sentence that had always bothered me, and I realized why this morning.

First, from King Arthur, a “missing scene” from the movie. Yeah, yeah. It wasn’t a great movie, but partly that’s what attracted me to fandoms. Give me a gorgeous cast, some action and free me from the confines of history? I’m there.

Note: This isn’t my usual style, but it’s King Arthur.

The words she spoke in the caravan still echoed in his ears. “Your own father married a Briton. Even he must have found something to his liking.” There had been an unspoken question in them, asking if he could find nothing himself. He had thought the answer she sought to be solely Guinevere, but that proved to be wrong. In tasting the salt of her skin, feeling the warmth of her body wrapped against him, he had realized that she wanted him to know that to want her was to want Britain.

The woman curled up beside him was living proof that she, though of flesh and blood, was Britain. The curve of her breasts echoed the slope of the hillsides giving way to flat plains. The sharp outline of her hips served as a reminder of jagged mountains, not unlike the pass where they had faced Cenric, side by side.

She stirred, brown eyes alert even as she woke. Guinevere said nothing as he traced imaginary markings on her skin where the woad would soon stain. A brief smile passed over her lips, recognition lighting her eyes. Her eyes turned towards the open window, towards the inky night sky. “I must go to my people.” Lips pursed softly, she quickly corrected herself, “Our people.”

“Our people.” The weight of the words hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. With a crooked smile he drew her towards him, lips trailing down her throat. “They will stand by me come dawn?”

“By dawn they shall.” She pulled free, slipping into the borrowed gown. There was no uncertainly in her voice, no question that Merlin’s people would follow. “And I,” she paused in the doorway, eyes afire. “I will stand by you come sundown.”

Yeah yeah. Eyes afire, recognition “lighting” her eyes? I giggle too. Moving on.

Next up is something from Once Upon a Time in Mexico. I loved writing OUATIM. It was a way of exorcising that dark part of me that wanted to shoot everything and make anything an insult. Yes, even Little Miss Sunshine has a dark side. Also, I really hated my job at this point in time. Lots of frustration there.

Here’s something very short, and definitely NSFW as far as language goes. Though if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know that this is not out of line for Sands. Set post-movie.

Sands watched I Love Lucy as a kid, his mind coloring the shades of grey. Years later he’d gone to a fucking theme park of all places, where they had an exhibit of her clothes. What he’d thought green was a garish red. The truth was far uglier than anything he’d imagined.

Being blind was a lot like that. Suddenly he saw- heard- Mexico for what she was. A cocksucking whore thriving on blood sacrifice.

Lucy hadn’t lived up to the memories left from his childhood, and the bitter taste of disappointment had lingered in his mouth for a while. Mexico? He could still taste her in his mouth. She’d fucked him raw, and left him for dead. Turned his whole goddamn world upside down, and all he knew was that he wanted more.

So there you have it. Part of my “secret” past. Fanfiction can be a great way for a writer just starting out to gain confidence- you don’t have to worry about creating your own characters, you can focus on telling the story.

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