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So, I've been writing up a storm lately. Seven stories in no more than a couple of months. Crazy. Yes, I know. After nearly four years of nothing, here I am again, head spinning with ideas faster than I can pen them down. It's all a rollercoaster in a way, a wheel spinning a bit too fast, and my life struggling to keep up. Incredibly satisfying, yes, but putting me in this state of a-little-too-tense all the time, keeping me on a nearly constant high.
I've said it before. Fanfic really is digital heroin.
And I've been away too long, it seems, or fandom has moved on, or something else has happened. I'm not a semi-celebrity anymore. My stories now score around 2 000 reads (on Ashwinder) instead of nearly 20 000, and reviews have dwindled down from the hundreds to a measley few. And yes, I feel like a brat for caring, but it does bug me. Especially since the stories I've written lately are so much better than the ones that came before. I have actual plot development now, dammit. And friggin' timelines. And proper commatation (thanks to TPP :-)).
The reviews I get are still raving, though, and in a way, this is even worse--like the crumbs of a table that makes me aware of there being a whole sea of love out there, and I just need to find the docks to put my boat in. But how do you make a name for yourself again when people have moved on and forgotten who you are? How do you reconcile the desperate hunger for approval with the pride that makes you not want to beg for people to pimp you? And how do you deal with swallowing your disappointment when you do beg, and no pimping ensues?
More competitions, maybe. I'll look into that.
I've said it before. Fanfic really is digital heroin.
And I've been away too long, it seems, or fandom has moved on, or something else has happened. I'm not a semi-celebrity anymore. My stories now score around 2 000 reads (on Ashwinder) instead of nearly 20 000, and reviews have dwindled down from the hundreds to a measley few. And yes, I feel like a brat for caring, but it does bug me. Especially since the stories I've written lately are so much better than the ones that came before. I have actual plot development now, dammit. And friggin' timelines. And proper commatation (thanks to TPP :-)).
The reviews I get are still raving, though, and in a way, this is even worse--like the crumbs of a table that makes me aware of there being a whole sea of love out there, and I just need to find the docks to put my boat in. But how do you make a name for yourself again when people have moved on and forgotten who you are? How do you reconcile the desperate hunger for approval with the pride that makes you not want to beg for people to pimp you? And how do you deal with swallowing your disappointment when you do beg, and no pimping ensues?
More competitions, maybe. I'll look into that.
