And yet that site of engagement is such a complex one that I wish wish WISH fandom as a whole was more open to meta'ing and being frank about it
Amen to this. ALL of us want readers, and we want to hear their responses. But our reasons for reading and writing are so, so varied, and fandom is a social as well as a writerly space. I think we all make choices about how we present ourselves over and beyond the fic itself, and those can have as much of an effect on the response as the content of the fic. For some of us, this is pure playtime and entertainment, especially from the reading end -- the equivalent of fast food or a box of chocolates, and lord knows there is NOTHING wrong with that. I like my comfort porn as well as the next fangirl. But if that were all it were, I doubt that any of us would make the kind of investment in time and energy that we do.
Speaking for myself, I'm not a good test case as either reader or writer, but I take some lessons from the kind of feedback I get and give (and how I, and others, receive it). I started writing fanfic because I want to be a better writer, and because I'd written myself into a corner where I was scared to death to show my work to anyone except my late mentor. I started writing for Torchwood because I thought there were fantastic writers in this fandom, talking about things that interested me, who wrote stuff that broke my heart and made me laugh -- and because occasionally, the discussion about these things really, really spoke to me. I saw a way to talk to readers and writers, something I'd been lacking for five years, and I loved the peer aspect of it, too. I don't think what I write will ever be "popular," but getting any response is already over and beyond what I had, let alone the occasional person who's really interested in the how as well as the what.
That said, I'm not immune to the "quantity" syndrome, where we measure the value of response by number of comments -- which is based on the naive assumption that only the people who comment give a shit, and the equally naive idea that the better the story, the more comments it will garner. After a lot of internal struggle, I finally started putting LJtoys code on my posts, because I needed to have SOME idea if people were actually reading. And depending on length, rating, genre, etc., I've had cases where literally only one in a hundred readers commented. (Incidentally, I'd agree that the more plotty and long, the fewer the comments. Also, YANA in taking five months or more to write one story, and word word word that GOOD porn is gruelling.)
And you know something? I'm bad about commenting myself. I was really shy about this when I started a year ago, and I continue to struggle with it. I want my feedback to be something that's useful, something that shows the writer that I'm not only moved by what they've written but that I appreciate what it took to write it. I want to give as many openings for discussion as I can. And that's selfish, I think, because sometimes ANY comment is enough to encourage the writer. It's also very likely projection on my part. But the end result is that I often comment late (not that I think writers mind that) because I go away and think about it, and sometimes I don't get back to it. And it seldom occurs to me that that might hurt someone's feelings if they expect me to be among the regular commenters. (That's a whole 'nother can of worms: the unspoken contract with one's flisties around commenting.)
Then there's the whole issue of the short shelf life of fic and how rarely people comment on back catalogues. But I think I've stood on the soapbox for long enough here.
no subject
And yet that site of engagement is such a complex one that I wish wish WISH fandom as a whole was more open to meta'ing and being frank about it
Amen to this. ALL of us want readers, and we want to hear their responses. But our reasons for reading and writing are so, so varied, and fandom is a social as well as a writerly space. I think we all make choices about how we present ourselves over and beyond the fic itself, and those can have as much of an effect on the response as the content of the fic. For some of us, this is pure playtime and entertainment, especially from the reading end -- the equivalent of fast food or a box of chocolates, and lord knows there is NOTHING wrong with that. I like my comfort porn as well as the next fangirl. But if that were all it were, I doubt that any of us would make the kind of investment in time and energy that we do.
Speaking for myself, I'm not a good test case as either reader or writer, but I take some lessons from the kind of feedback I get and give (and how I, and others, receive it). I started writing fanfic because I want to be a better writer, and because I'd written myself into a corner where I was scared to death to show my work to anyone except my late mentor. I started writing for Torchwood because I thought there were fantastic writers in this fandom, talking about things that interested me, who wrote stuff that broke my heart and made me laugh -- and because occasionally, the discussion about these things really, really spoke to me. I saw a way to talk to readers and writers, something I'd been lacking for five years, and I loved the peer aspect of it, too. I don't think what I write will ever be "popular," but getting any response is already over and beyond what I had, let alone the occasional person who's really interested in the how as well as the what.
That said, I'm not immune to the "quantity" syndrome, where we measure the value of response by number of comments -- which is based on the naive assumption that only the people who comment give a shit, and the equally naive idea that the better the story, the more comments it will garner. After a lot of internal struggle, I finally started putting LJtoys code on my posts, because I needed to have SOME idea if people were actually reading. And depending on length, rating, genre, etc., I've had cases where literally only one in a hundred readers commented. (Incidentally, I'd agree that the more plotty and long, the fewer the comments. Also, YANA in taking five months or more to write one story, and word word word that GOOD porn is gruelling.)
And you know something? I'm bad about commenting myself. I was really shy about this when I started a year ago, and I continue to struggle with it. I want my feedback to be something that's useful, something that shows the writer that I'm not only moved by what they've written but that I appreciate what it took to write it. I want to give as many openings for discussion as I can. And that's selfish, I think, because sometimes ANY comment is enough to encourage the writer. It's also very likely projection on my part. But the end result is that I often comment late (not that I think writers mind that) because I go away and think about it, and sometimes I don't get back to it. And it seldom occurs to me that that might hurt someone's feelings if they expect me to be among the regular commenters. (That's a whole 'nother can of worms: the unspoken contract with one's flisties around commenting.)
Then there's the whole issue of the short shelf life of fic and how rarely people comment on back catalogues. But I think I've stood on the soapbox for long enough here.