Borrowed: Understanding Authorial Practices in Fanfiction

Borrowed

Understanding Authorial Practices in Fanfiction

Nicolle Lamerichs

CAST master thesis, Maastricht University, 2009

Borrowed Understanding Authorial Practices in Fanfiction

by

Nicolle Lamerichs

University Maastricht: Cultures of Arts, Science and Technology

2

Borrowed:

Understanding Authorial Practices in Fanfiction

Nicolle Lamerichs

B.A. Arts and Sciences

Maastricht, 2007

Submitted to the program Cultures of Arts, Science and Technology in partial

fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of master of philosophy,

University of Maastricht, August 2009

Thesis supervision:

Dr. Karin Wenz

Thesis committee:

Prof. Maaike Meijer

© 2009 Nicolle Lamerichs. All rights reserved.

Borrowed: Authorial Practices in Fanfiction

3

Table of Contents

Table of Contents 3

Acknowledgements 5

Chapter 1: Fan practices as a subject of research

Introduction 7

Defining the fan 9

The differences between fans and users 11

Fan practices across various media 13

Fandom as a heterogeneous construction 16

Transformative and performative authorship 18

Transmedia storytelling 21

Researching the fan 25

Self-reflexivity: The researcher as a fan 28

Chapter 2: Bards, authors, scribblers: A history of authorship and its consequences

Once upon a time there was a storyteller 35

Electronic writing 39

Think about it: Reading as an active process 43

The fine print: The hierarchy between a creator and fans 46

No trespassing: Legal aspects of fanfiction 48

Chapter 3: Transformative authorship: Reworking Tales of Symphonia

Can you imagine it? The many genres of fanfiction 53

Be my beta: Social and creative skills 57

Play it your way: Tales of Symphonia 62

Lost in translation 66

Tales of Symphonia at FanFiction.net 69

Feedback from fellow-fans 73

Interactivity and collaboration 76

Help, I’m a Sue! Self-conscious elements in fanfiction 78

The fan-author 83

Chapter 4: Performative authorship: Writing and role-playing characters

The practice and varieties of role-playing 89

Role-playing systems online: Defining these texts and their writers 93

4

Luceti: The plot and its characters 97

Using LiveJournal to stage stories 100

Making conversation: Writing and style in role-plays 105

Performing characters: The live audience, gestures and the mise-en-scene 111

Between gaming and writing 114

Chapter 5: Submitting and sharing: Undermining the author?

Bibliography 121

Appendix A: Images 132

Appendix B: Glossary 135


5

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to everyone who helped accomplish this thesis in one way or the other. I am

indebted to my supervisor, Dr. Karin Wenz, for guidance, input and most of all her continuous

support the last months. Thank you for the chances you always gave me to explore this

research. It means a lot to me.

To the entire team of CAST teachers, who taught us the tricks of the trade and the

charms of research, allowed us to sit in during important research meetings and always made

us feel at home at our faculty. Notably Prof. Wiebe Bijker, our program’s director, provided

us with a unique set of courses, opportunities and motivation.

To the Animecon, for enabling the workshop and for hosting a great weekend for fans

of Japanese pop-culture, year after year. Special thanks to Jeroen and Matijs who despite the

stress of real life still assure that with the convention and events run smoothly.

To OpenMinded and our little Dutch doujinshi scene. My fellow-fans and artists, you

always remind me of what being a creative in fan practices means. Special thanks to Marissa

Delbressine, for our current art projects and publications. Without your friendship and

guidance I would have never been able to run projects and still work on this thesis full-time.

And to your lesbian Peter Pan for inspiration.

To everyone I talked to and interviewed about fanfiction: Iris, Corinne, Wendelien,

Melissa, Suzanne, amongst others. Your views and insights gave me new perspectives.

Marianne, I promise I will interview you if I ever get a PHD. Thanks to Elsje for midnight

MSN sessions and rambles about the research, fiction and whatnot. This thesis is Splen-free, I

assure you. Also many thanks to Luceti, for letting me lurk there for some weeks. I enjoyed it

and feel like I finally understand a bit more what role-playing is all about.

To all my other friends, you have always been there in one way or the other. I am

sorry for locking myself up in my room these last months but you know why.

To my family, notably my sister, a big Tales of Symphonia fan. Without your material

this research would have surely looked different. There is not as much Yuan/Kratos in this

thesis as you might have hoped. I am compensating for that now.

6


7

Chapter 1

Never-ending stories: Fanfiction as a matter of research

Introduction

Writing is a general way of communicating nowadays, so common and transparent that we

may not even realize it at all. While it used to be an exclusive activity for those that had the

time and ability to read and write, we now have a flourishing culture of literacy. Everyone

reads and writes, scribbles in the margins and produces texts. More recently, the internet with

its various platforms shaped most of its users into active textual contributors. Even those that

do not visit forums or profile sites may write emails or chat. User participation is growing, but

for a long time the most active audience consisted of fans that engaged with texts closely and

derived meaning of those for their private life.

Since several decades fans have been inspired to write texts based on their favourite

fiction, featuring parts of that setting, characters and plot. This phenomenon is called

fanfiction; a sole work is usually referred to as a fic. The internet made the distribution of

these stories easier and has enabled interaction about the content. Writers here base

themselves on source-text - an existing text such as a series, book or game - which they

explore through their own fiction. Here fans pay homage to a fictional product and try to

rewrite a certain phase in the story, tell something untold or unseen in the series itself or

describe an entirely new adventure or romance. Fanfiction is a way to share one’s imagination

with other fans and to interpret a text at fullest. It is usually derived from pop-cultural texts,

for instance, Harry Potter is a very popular field of fanfiction. Fans can also base their stories

on classics, to name two examples: Sherlock Holmes or Peter Pan (Walter, 2004). One can

find fanfiction of nearly every imaginable text (even the Bible) and there is even a wealth of

fiction based on the actors and authors of the source-text.

Fans are very free in the use of genres and storylines, making fiction that either relies

heavily on the source-text or moves away from it by combining texts or ridiculing a series.

Sexually the stories are also very diverse. Though some writers may try to stage a story that

could have easily been in the actual texts, others playfully give it their own spin. An existing

story thus is given new life and is opened up. Even if the original text long since ended, the

fanfiction author still enriches a text. From a fixed product the text thus becomes a never-

ending story, one that lacks the typical closure that we long since associated with fiction.

8

Fanfiction is a grassroots kind of fiction, meaning that consumers make it and

distribute it. The movement of grassroots arts and communities is spontaneous; a bottom-up

process that may reach attention in mainstream culture and relies on the input of locals.

Fanfiction is kept vivid by the activity of fans and is promoted by them. Fans make an active

audience group and have, for a long time, been a good example of how readers can creatively

assess fiction. Nowadays user activity, including fan activity online, is a larger process that is

sometimes referred to as convergence culture. This term, by media theorist Henry Jenkins

(2004b) describes a tendency towards user’s activity online stimulated by recent sites that rely

on networking. These are often packed together under the umbrella term Web 2.0, referring to

sites since roughly 1999 that have a user-friendly design and rely on collaboration. This is

shown in various features such as comment functions, tags, easy links and search functions

(e.g., Wikipedia, YouTube). Convergence culture is also a larger process than Web 2.0, as

Jenkins describes it is a site: ‘where old and new media collide, where grassroots and

corporate media intersect, where the power of the media producer and the power of the media

consumer interact in unpredictable ways’ (2006b, p. 2). New relations between producers and

consumers are established; fan behaviour online forms an example of this.

Through this new technology consumers can become creative producers themselves.

They engage more closely with texts nowadays via new media and information technologies

(e.g., Jenkins, 2006a, 2006b). This opportunity for audience participation enables spectators to

attribute to an existing text. Fans do this by broadening a story world via new texts that may

be more or less related to the original narrative. The relationship between the author and the

reader changes in this field because fans transform existing material into new fiction. As

Aarseth (1997) describes: ‘The politics of the author-reader relationship, ultimately, is not a

choice between paper and electronic text, or linear and non-linear text, or interactive or non-

interactive text, or open and closed text, but instead is whether the user has the ability to

transform the text into something that the instigator of the text could not foresee or plan for’

(p. 164, italics NL). This transforming and adapting is at the heart of fan cultures, but has

become a matter for convergence culture in general too.

In this thesis specific attention will go to the portrayal of authorship and the view fans

have of their identity as an author or writer. Fanfiction authors do not gain similar attention as

institutionalized authors and fashion themselves differently. Their writing practice and

creativity are also of a different nature. The quality of fanfiction varies but quality is not the

only thing that affects a writer’s reputation: the persona of the author is here heavily

embedded in small internet subcultures that have specific norms and conventions. The


9

relationship between author-reader-text is constituted alternatively here when compared to

original, printed fiction. The main research question of this thesis is the following: How does

fanfiction redefine what authorship means in our modern society? In this chapter I shall

elaborate on several key concepts and ideas. I shall describe what a fan is and what practices a

fan engages in. Then I shall define the concepts that are used in this thesis: transformative and

performative authorship, as well as transmedia story-telling. Lastly I shall depict the previous

research that has been done in fan studies, the methodological problems this subject poses for

a scholar and the method I used myself.

Defining the fan

The concept of a ‘fan’ can be debated. Indeed it is difficult to define when someone is a fan

and when he is not, especially now that other mainstream consumers have become more

active online (e.g., Jenkins, 2007). The consensus is usually the following: a fan differs from a

regular viewer by being more emotionally and attentively engaged with the source-text. A fan

uses the text for self-expression, for example by attributing creative works to it, by wearing

clothing related to it or by citing it. A certain fictional text or artist is relevant for the fan’s

self-construction and he will show this to others, not just fans but also non-fans varying from

family members to colleagues.

Indeed engagement with and attachment to a certain text are at the heart of fan

practices. As a second feature the fan has a specific way of interpreting texts. His reception

shows high interpretative qualities towards the source-text, more than that of an ordinary

consumer (Meers, 2006; Jenkins, 2006a, p. 204; Kaplan, 2006, p. 150-151). According to

Jenkins fans are firstly emotionally very connected to a text and will make sense of it on that

emotional level. For instance, they will be very pleased when their favourite character has a

good scene, or when the plot becomes very endearing. At the same time fans maintain a

critical distance and judge a product aesthetically, often by rewatching it or discussing it in-

depth with other fans. The mix of these two levels can lead to subjective analyses as McKee

(2001) for instance has shown.

Secondly, being a fan and judging a text takes place in a community or as the general

actor’s term is called, fandom, a rough equivalent of fan community and also adopted by

scholars. This term is used to describe the fans that are actively grouped around a text and

establish social relationships with their fellow fans. The fan incorporates the preferred

meaning of a group and standards on how to judge fan practices. This discussion fans have of

a series and their own fan products is commonly described as meta-text. For some fans being

10

a fan also means adopting an alternative identity that is sometimes constructed in a larger

framework. Bailey (2005) has written about fans of Futurama that portrayed themselves as

geeks. Other overarching identities that fans, sometimes ironically, adopted include categories

as ‘nerd’, ‘otaku’ or ‘metalhead’. They frequently described an affinity with a certain genre or

a certain lifestyle.

In mainstream culture fans is sometimes perceived as deviant. Showing affinity with

Star Trek or other products may then be portrayed as a pathology or escapism. Early works in

fan studies from the eighties and nineties heavily argued against the image of the fan as either

deviant or violent, a discourse notably linked to sports (e.g., Jenkins, 1992). It appears that

nowadays fandom is overlapping with mainstream culture more and more where consumers

also become active, self-aware and fashion themselves for instance via ringtones or fannish

clothing. The line might be blurring to such a degree that Jenkins (2007) even speculates

fandom might blur into mainstream culture altogether.

Aside from the division between fans of a series and fans of a genre, other ways to

categorize fans have been thought of. For instance, Hills (2002a) has divided between cult-

fans and fans, the difference being that a cult-fan is engaged with a product that is typically

not in production anymore (a finished series, for instance). When dealing with cult, moreover,

there is a strange dynamic at hand since something has to be dubbed ‘cult’ as well by its fans.

Umberto Eco also defines cult products and their fans. In his essay about Cassablanca (1973)

he argues that the essence of cult movies lies in the fact that they are highly fragmented,

integrating many references and genres, thus forming not one movie, but many. This is what

interests the cult fans, all the references make it highly enjoyable to rewatch and enact. Other

categorizations of fans include the difference that Gray, Sandvoss and Harrington (2007) have

made between fans and anti-fans. The anti-fan is recognizable not by his affinity with a

source-text, but with his hatred thereof. The dislike of certain texts and genres can thus

become a binding element as well, a shared common good and project, with practices equal to

those of the actual fans.

As all of these categorizations show, being a fan can mean many things and depends

on the source-text a fan emotionally invests in. In general I would like to underline that

fandoms typically include a variety of individuals, all with different backgrounds and

relations to a source-text. Some may be a fan of various texts; others may be very keen on one

product. Even within a certain source-text, the relations may vary, for instance because some

refute parts of a text and others may approve it. For example, Meers (2006) describes how the

movies of Lord of the Rings changed the fandom and caused schisms between the new fans


11

and older fans of the books. The relation to the text and other fans is crucial to the self-

identification of the individual fan.

The differences between fans and users

The line between fans and non-fans used to be more clear-cut. A fan was an enthusiast, a

fanatic, an intensive viewer of a series who liked expressing his affinity and loyalty to a

certain source-text. Now that the internet has become widespread, recognizing the fan is not

that easy anymore. Many theorists from the fields of media studies and literary studies (e.g.,

Jenkins, 2006a; Landow, 2006; Kelly, 2005) argue that the user participation online allows for

a more active, constructive audience. Internet has increased the amount of texts people read

from day to day, by enabling short writings as blogs, news articles and posts on boards or

more recently, social networking sites (SNS-sites). The more recent concept of Web 2.0

describes the increase in SNS-sites that allow more user/viewer participation.

This online activity and democratization is celebrated as a field in several ways:

information can be distributed easily to all kinds of parties that have access to this technology;

the audience can talk back and contribute; everyone can potentially become a user and writer.

‘Indeed, the whole discourse about ‘web 2.0’ has been animated by the hunger to develop a

new, more empowered, more socially connected, and more creative image of the consumer’,

Jenkins explains (2007, p. 358). Various terms have been coined to describe the online active

user/writer: wreader (Ryan, 2001, p. 9) to depict the new writer-reader relationships online,

where the reader can review a story, engage with it, arrange it or co-create it (e.g., in various

genres as hypertext, SNS-sites, fanfiction). Another term that occurs in current literature is

prosumer (e.g., De Mul, 2008; Jenkins, 2007, p. 358) which also describes this bottom-up

process in which consumers become producers.

However, some critics fear that this may lead to a decline in culture. Notably scholar

Steve Birkerts describes that by the lack of institutions as publishers and editors, the quality of

electronic writing such as hypertexts will be lower. In The Gutenberg Elegies (2006) he

claims that the lack of authority and proper institutes results in a loss of quality. Other critics

fear similar consequences, such as online news editor and scholar Jane Frel. ‘Pretty good has

become the new perfection’, she remarks in an interview about online texts (Friedlander,

2008). The quality of fanfiction has also become more dubious since fandoms moved online:

where it used to be limited to magazines with editors, publishing is now open for everyone,

from young teens who write for friends, to professionals (illustrated in chapter 3).

12

Quality aside, the internet is hailed as the medium for self-expression and

democratization. That is exactly where the definition of a fan becomes a slippery-slope.

Where fans used to be the quintessential active audience, nowadays all the audience members

are asked to contribute. We are invited to go to the official website of a television series once

we watched the episode; we can talk about our favourite books at discussion boards, and even

a non-fan is familiar with standard tagged or manipulated images of a series. Fan practices

and modes of reception are slowly integrated in mainstream practices, especially online.

Jenkins ironically states when discussing these practices: ‘The old ideal might have been the

couch potato; the new ideal is almost certainly a fan’. (2007, p. 361). He describes this

participatory culture more thoroughly in Fans, Bloggers, Gamers (2006a) and Convergence

Culture (2006b). The active participant and consumer is approached in the new digital era,

where bottom-up processes are on the one hand appreciated and on the other hand

problematic. They create awkward tensions in the consumer-producer relation economically,

legally and creatively, as Jenkins illustrates in many of his essays.

Specific here is not that the audience talks about media content, forms ties or

communities and tries to reach out to the corporations. Indeed, before the internet was well-

used many people would discuss, quote or enact upon media content. Fans packed together in

older days when a show was about to be cancelled, and now they do so a more widespread

online (e.g., online petitions/actions for Carnivale, Firefly or Pushing Daisies). Though fans

are a more rigid example of consumer activity, general viewers are also preoccupied with

such matters but to a lesser degree. They may choose not to express their affinity that much or

take an active, organizational stand. Media had a ritual function before the internet as a

conversational topic that could glue people together and as a fiction that could mean be used

as a means of self-expression (Fiske, 1989).

The actual point is then that fan practices have become more visible. Because of these

online platforms, people will stumble upon fan practices sooner and become engaged with

them. The fan is present as the optimal consumer and receptor. The corporations still have

trouble defining their relation with their audience, but are more willing to play with the

benefits. At the moment the difference between fans and users is still pretty large, but in the

future it may become more problematic to define between these two groups. This discourse

of active audiences still deals with two separate groups that only have ‘activity’ in common.

Fan practices across various media

Fans express their ideas and affinity to a text – book, series, game - in various ways, fanfic-


13

tion being just an example of this (e.g., Jenkins, 2006b, p. 12; Coppa, 2006). The range of

creative practices fans are indulged in is quite broad and mediated in different ways. After

going into the history of fanfiction shortly, I shall describe a few other dominant fan practices:

Fan art, fan videos, cosplay, fan translations and fan conventions.

Fanfiction is a rather old practice. Since the seventies of the twentieth century media

and book fans (e.g., Star Trek) have written their own stories featuring the characters they

love that often take place in the same setting. Similar practices started earlier in the nineteenth

century when amateur authors wrote their own Sherlock Holmes stories, Jane Austen fiction

or Lewis Caroll sequels (Viires, 2005). Fanfiction also reminds of the various authors that

have written Oz-stories throughout the twentieth century. However, in the seventies it became

more institutionalized as an amateur, fan practice, rather than related to professional authors

that actually published these adaptations. The earliest fanfiction authors bundled their stories

in fanzines and sold these at conventions among peers. Nowadays fanfiction is booming since

the internet made it easier to distribute these stories and find likeminded writers and readers.

Making fan art means that an amateur artist inspires visual art - a comic or drawing or

portrait - on a series. The fan may choose to follow the style of the source-text when it is

possible by adopting the designs, or choose to explore the characters or setting in his own

style. Fan art is a good way to practice drawing and be in touch with the fan community.

Commonly the art is uploaded at amateur artists’ sites as Elfwood or DeviantArt or a personal

website. Often they will use several systems to host their work. Fans can also upload the work

at specific fan forums or genre systems such as Y!Hosting which is specialized at homosexual

art. Sometimes the content refers to the show more than in its designs and may specifically

address or spoof visuals that are integrated in the series (e.g., Bailey, 2005). Fans may choose

to sell their fan art or gain a wider audience by for instance selling prints online or at

conventions, or by publishing their comics themselves. Self-published comics based on

Japanese content or made by Japanese artists are called doujinshi and can contain original art

or fan art.

Fan videos are content based on an existing source-text and sometimes incorporate

footage of the original text. Though these videos are commonly made by amateurs, the quality

of this content varies, since some fans can also be, for instance, professional animators. The

length of these videos differs, as well as the size of the team working on them. The earliest

fan video was made in the seventies by Kandy Fong, who had by then already presented

several Star Trek slideshows accompanied by songs (Coppa, 2006; Jenkins, 2008a). Music

videos (abbreviation FMV or AMV) nowadays form a more dominant genre of fan videos:

14

one edits existing footage (e.g., a Star Trek) to fit a chosen song. Other subgenres of fan

videos are machinima (videos rendered via the 3-D engine of games); fan dubs (videos that

leave the original footage intact, but provide it with different voices); flash movies (original

animations made in Adobe Flash) and fan films (original live action videos).

Making and wearing costumes inspired on a series is also a common practice for fans.

This is described as cosplay (costume playing) by fans of Japanese pop-culture, a term which

is now sometimes for Western inspired costumes too. The original production of the costume

is the crucial act here: they are made by fans and not sold commercially. Though some

costumes can be bought (e.g., Star Trek outfits) most of them cannot be purchased, especially

when it comes down to Japanese pop-culture. The fan then has the option of asking someone

for a commission, in other words, to make the costume for them, which can be another fan, an

acquaintance that can sew or a professional seamstress. When the costumes are finished the

fan wears them at conventions or at small fashion shows, as props for fan videos or general

parties. Cosplaying is also not the same as role-playing, though some people may choose to be

more ‘in character’, in general the costumes are worn out of devotion for a series without

loosing yourself in the role too much. However, many cosplayers perform skits (short

individual or group performances) at conventions in their outfits, which overlaps more with

fanfiction since you write a script and act out a role.

Some practices are less creative and can be described as productive or functional.

Many fans are occupied with subtitling foreign (often Asian) media content and subtitle that,

which results in a fan sub that can be distributed online or otherwise. Other translation

activities involve scanlations: scanning and translating (Japanese) comics or doujinshi to

make them accessible and understandable for fellow-fans. Some fans may make fan dubs with

a team of fan voice actors and dub the content rather than subtitle it. Other fan practices

include making icons or wallpapers, capturing screenshots and adding a witty text to them,

making animated gifs or creating fan mixes, a kind of mix tape with various songs that a fan

associates with the text.

Fans may meet up in small groups or attend organized larger meetings: fan

conventions, gatherings arranged by fans themselves. While fanfiction itself has its roots in

the seventies, fan conventions are a phenomena dating back from the thirties often organised

by fan clubs or more recently, fan magazines or other associations. For instance, the earliest

fan clubs for Sherlock Holmes - The Sherlock Holmes Society (London) and The Bakerstreet

Irregulars (New York) - date from 1934. The first science fiction conventions also stem from

the thirties. Though commonly a convention covers a genre (like science fiction) some


15

conventions are hosted for one series only. Star Trek is a classic example of that, with its first

convention hosted in 1972 (Walker, 2008). A convention generally lasts a weekend, though

smaller conventions are pretty common too. A hotel or entertainment hall is rented to for

these events to take place.

Many conventions are a chance for fans to meet up. Where the focus used to be on

meeting fans per se, it now also involves meeting up with people in real life that you already

know from online boards. On top of that many fan conventions also try to invite famous

guests related to the fandom (actors, writers, technical crew) to give interviews, participate in

panels and give autographs. This is a more common practice in science fiction conventions,

but not all of them (for the tenor of American science fiction cons in the early nineties, check

Bacon-Smith, 1992, p. 8-22). For instance, while the German Fedcon invites many actors,

smaller conventions like the Flemish FACTS focus on fan practices and merchandise. At

anime-conventions, especially the European ones, there are often little to no guests. Especially

in The Netherlands this is quite uncommon because the Dutch fan conventions are smaller in

size and it would not be cost-efficient. The problem here can also be one of location and

language: the Japanese guests commonly need translators to share information. Moreover,

when it comes down to animation and games there is a whole team behind a work rather than

a few fore-grounded persons that might appeal to fans (e.g., actors, a small writing team)

which makes it harder for fans to establish a relation towards the production team.

Conventions commonly host many activities. Most choose to feature movies and series

related to the fandom, for instance by showing a recent anime. Typically there is a dealer

room to buy merchandise, workshops and panels about various fan related topics from

practical questions – how to make your own anime music video? - to in-depth information

about a product with a professional panel. Some conventions host lectures too. Events for

anime-conventions often include competitions related to fan practices: a cosplay competition

with short theatrical skits or a fashion show; a drawing table or wall to put your own drawings

on or competitions for the best fan video. They may even include music or dance, such as

Japanese para para, quick group dances with accessories or, at more fantasy minded

conventions, folkloristic bands to dance to.

Fandom as a heterogeneous construction

Discussing fan communities means that you deal with a troublesome, large unit that is highly

diverse. Earlier I already described fandom, the term used to describe fans that actively group

around a certain text. The word fandom might lead one to believe fans are one big group.

16

Even scholars tend to depict fans as one subversive, emancipative group that has certain

practices in common, most studies have only paid attention to one fan community and have

been criticized for that (e.g., Scodari, 2003; Jenkins, 1992, pp. 120-151). This produces a

biased image of the fandom as a homogenous construction. Fandom is however mostly an

analytical term to describe those that have affinity with a text, while it is scattered across

various groups online and offline. As stated in the previous paragraphs fans can participate in

several groups and practices and shift among these: this fluidity is very important. Media-fans

tend to favour several shows or games and often have affinity with certain genres or

subcultures. Similarly not all fans will be active in online or offline communities, some just sit

at home to attentively enjoy a series. In this section I shall discuss various features of fandoms

in which their diversity is shown.

Firstly, though fans are often grouped together based on similar practices, we cannot

just describe them as one group or community but should also pay attention to the specific

fandoms they participate in. Fans exist of every thinkable cultural repertoire. Though early

studies on fans dealt with media fans, recent studies have stretched the domain by focusing on

for instance cult fans, celebrities or music (e.g., Bailey’s analysis of Kiss, 2005, pp. 101-156).

Here the values and practices of fans can be entirely different. In similar fashion the recent

publication Fandom (Gray et al., 2007) features a wide range of essays covering sports, high

arts and anti-fans - groups of consumers bounded by their distaste of a certain product. Within

previous sections I also discussed that viewers of series can be categorized in several ways,

fans only being one of them.

Secondly, fandom is bounded to nationality to some degree as well. This often does

not show in the fan practices themselves such as the content or quality of fanfiction or the

kind of fan art. However, it does become apparent in how fan activities are institutionalized

when focussing on for instance conventions or fan publications. In Japan doujinshi (fan

comics) flourish, whereas in America fanfiction is more dominant as a self-published type of

fiction. In The Netherlands printed fanfiction is very rare even at conventions, in contrast to

making and publishing doujinshi, which has a small market here.

Thirdly, some fans may want not show their affection towards a text by joining

conventions or communities. They are either unaware of fan communities, may prefer not to

express their affection with fellow-fans or are not able to join for one reason or the other.

There is a difference between these kind of fans - who express their love solely on a local,

personal level - and fans that feel the need to organize (e.g., Hills, 2002a, p. 86; Bacon-Smith,

1992; Jenkins 2006a, 162-168). Similarly, the degree of how much a fan gets into the text also


17

varies and some like to display their knowledge. For instance, in anime fandoms there are fans

that also learn Japanese to engage better with the material and they may feel empowered when

they master more of the language.

Moreover, fans often do not stick to one fandom. This is described by Jenkins in

Textual Poachers (1992): fans are not just poachers, but also nomads who move around in

pop-culture. They usually love several texts or have an affinity with a certain genre, though

their interests may not be that broad. For instance, they may like certain superhero comics or

science fiction texts more avidly than others. Sometimes they grow out of a fandom but other

times they get back into it after years again and relive that joy mixed with nostalgia. Fans can

love both Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and Star Trek equally; they recommend the series to

people with similar interests; they discover new bands that make their type of music. Fans

constantly try to broaden his territory while still remaining an expert in some series. They are

more free-floating than a lot of research depicts them.

In this fluidity and interaction a strange tendency manifests itself. On the one hand

fans try to recruit newcomers non-stop and get acquainted with different products and

fandoms themselves. On the other hand they often shun new fans at online boards, which

gives the newcomers a hard time to fit in. They are mocked and portrayed as ‘noobs’

(newbies) when they are not aware of all the ins and outs in the fandom. At a lot of boards or

LiveJournal communities users introduce themselves by saying they have ‘lurked’ at the site

(observed it) for a while, or describe how they were engaged with the product before coming

to the specific community. This in part prevents being depicted negatively as a newcomer.

A fandom can also turn out to be highly divided when some fans exclude others based

on taste or interpretation. These conflicts can have various causes. Sometimes there is a

debate about how to interpret the background of a text or the story world. Other times a sequel

or adaptation can cause schisms because some fans accept it while others tend to refuse it.

Within my case-study this will become clear when dealing with, amongst others, the sequel of

Tales of Symphonia that has been criticized by many of the loyal fans. Other causes of debate

and even flame wars are not the content, but the characters. Problems arise offline and online

when some fans tend to favour a certain character or when they feel other people misinterpret

them. In general there are many communities to celebrate characters specifically. The

introduction of new characters can be a source of debate as well, which hovers between the

previously mentioned debates of accepting new information added to a story and the liking of

characters.

18

Another anchor point for sub communities are certain pairings (romantic couples) fans

prefer. This divides the fan community in smaller groups: new listings are made to celebrate

certain pairings, recruit new fans and catalogue practices related to only one pairing. This

leads to exclusions of other branches of the fandom and even an open disregard for the others

at some points. What for an outsider seem almost childish problems – what characters should

date one another – become a root of fan expression and deeply emotionally embedded. This

takes place at all kinds of levels. For instance, there is an obvious difference between

slashers, those who enjoy seeing the characters in a homosexual relationships, and shippers,

those who prefer to see them in a straight relationship.

What poses limited problems for an outsider, becomes a large issue in a fandom

where fans are so actively engaged with a text. Though this will not always lead to problems -

and indeed, many fans prefer various pairings or at least reading about them - it can become

very apparent at other times. To depict a fandom as one fixed set of actors would be very

naive. There is a lot of dialogue and discussion in fandoms that leads to smaller groups. There

is also a division based on the activity of users. For instance, those who indulge in similar fan

practices (e.g., cosplaying or writing fanfiction) may group together or communicate more.

Transformative and performative authorship

To depict the modes of writing in fanfiction I will use two terms: transformative authorship

and performative authorship, which I based on existing literature that discusses transformative

fiction and performativity. Via these concepts I aim to show the difference between creating

original fiction, making fanfiction in the form of prose, and textual role-playing.

Transformative authorship is a term based on transformative works, another term for

fanfiction and similar practices in today’s digital culture (and print culture) that attribute to a

work. The term is used more in the legal discourse surrounding fanfiction. I chose to use to

apply this concept rather than ownership because it adequately describes the root of the

problem here: writers adopt a text and ‘transform’ it into a version or homage of their own.

Ownership in contrast to transformative authorship implies that a text is owned by the actual

creator of the source-text. When I use ownership in this thesis it is usually meant as legal

concept that defines problems of copyright, or in some cases as emotional ownership, when

fans feel parts of a fan text belong to them. Transformative works pose problems for the

overarching discussion of what authorial practices actually are. A more general term to

describe fanfiction is via derivative fiction, which describes fiction based on other texts. This

can for instance be a parody, pastiche or fanfiction.


19

In the Code for Fair Use (2008) the legal implications of making fanfiction are

described with the emphasis that a work is transformative when it manages to add something

to a text, rather than repeating it. The Organization for Transformative Works (since 2007) is

ran by fans and fan scholars, with the purpose of defending fans legally and providing a

platform for discussion. Rebecca Tushnet, one of its members, publishes a lot on the questions

fanfiction imposes on copyright. One of the problems with transformative works, she thinks,

is that they sometimes oppose the view of the author: ‘Transformative uses are uses that add

new insights or meaning to the original work, often in ways that copyright owners don’t like’.

(2007, p. 61). That may lead to legal cases, such as a prosecution of the adaption The Wind

Gone Done, when the copyright holders were not amused by the gay content the author wrote

in his version of Gone With The Wind. As I will explain in chapter 3, the degree of originality

within such fiction varies, while the concept itself manages to describe what is at the root of

the problem: a swinging between original and imitation.

Performative authorship is the term I use to describe textual role-playing in blog

format. When discussing role-playing as a fan practice, it can also be seen as transformative

since it leans on a source-text and changes that into a new text. As I described at the

beginning of this section, performative authorship as such can also refer to original content.

The term is one that should explain the role of the author that performs as a character, be it an

original or existing one. The role-player writes and communicates, but the narrative takes

place on another level, in interaction with other users and moderators. The performative

author is to some degree a gamer, not just a writer.

Performativity is here thus not meant as it is introduced by Judith Butler (1990) in

queer studies. Butler specifically relates performativity to the construction of one’s identity in

a discourse of power by acts of repetition, which is confirmed constantly through words and

actions. Here, the term is used as a concept of theatrics, rather than a social notion: the source-

text is played out by users who assume several roles. However, this mode of performing

implies some features of Butler’s concept, in a sense that the act of role-playing as well as the

character itself can become very relevant for the writer’s personal identity and the way he or

she expresses him- or herself in daily life. It may also have consequences for the writer’s

identity in terms of gender and sexuality, for instance, when the writer adopts a character

which he can play out certain masculine or feminine characteristics he does not perform

outside the fictional realm. Previous analyses of fanfiction related to performativity include

firstly Kurt Lancaster (2001), who discusses various ways (e.g., card games, videogames and

fan texts) to play out the world and characters of Babylon 5. Busse (2006) describes

20

performance in relation to gender studies, while Francisca Coppa (2006) compares fanfiction

to theatre productions by emphasizing amongst others its bodily features. All authors thus

fashion the term slightly differently. My use of performativity in this thesis, when applied to

role-playing, will be related to the performing of a character.

Transformative and performative authorship do not oppose original content or fiction

per se. On the one hand, transformative fiction, as I shall explain in the chapter, bases itself on

existing content, but incorporates many original elements and can become a very autonomous

story. On the other hand, original fiction also bases itself on pre-existing content, clichés and

conventions. Performative authorship can be an adequate term to describe various role-

playing characters. For instance, a fan can also role-play an original character in a fictional

blog or at other sites, rather than an existing character, which is the subject I deal with now.

Both types of authorship heavily depend on intertextuality. Deriving your work from

an existing text and transforming it, already implies that you are engaged in an intertextual

practice. I do not intend to use the term as a kind of discourse inherent of texts or to explore

how language relates to conventions or culture in general. The term here is meant in a narrow

way and describes the way a text relates to a source-text. This gives the newer text its

additional meaning, or even forms the complete foundation on which the new text (e.g., a

fanfic) is constituted. Intertext can be shaped in various ways in fan texts. The first and

foremost relation is that fan texts are frequently unreadable without a notion of the source-

text. An outsider would not understand these texts; indeed, it is assumed that the reader is

aware of the source at least to some degree.

A fan text can also refer to different cultural repertoires than the source-text. These can

be quotes or descriptions pointing to other popular media or fiction, varying from things that

we consider to be normal language ‘good going, Sherlock!’ to references only those

acquainted to a popular text will understand. Whether the text actually exists in the fictional

universe is not a point here, rather these references should appeal to the knowledge of the

reader. For instance, the characters of Tales of Symphonia have never read Tolkien’s Lord of

the Rings, it does not exist there, but referring to it produces a comical effect exactly because

of that. Some references can be more common across fandoms (e.g., a catchphrase as

‘Everybody lies!’ from House M.D.). Other fans allude to high arts, rather than popular

culture and cover Shakespeare, poetry or modern painting.

Intertext also arises between fan texts that can built on each other’s repertoire and

ideas, or make very clear references to other fan products. In the next section this will be

illustrated through the notion fanon. Fan communities are however not only influenced by


21

fans and the source-text, but also by external information that can be provided by the authors

of the source-text. Fans frequently base themselves on information (e.g., interviews) that

producers or actors have confined. This is usually described as extratextual by scholars (e.g.,

Jenkins, 1992, pp. 86-119) to divide between the relations established across fictional texts

and the external sources fans rely on for interpretation.

Intertextual qualities can also be quite practical and relate to the form of the content.

Since this thesis focuses on electronic literature, the lay-out of a site becomes important.

There links to other platforms (hyperlinks) may be embedded that link a visitor to different

content on the same or other platforms. When applied to fanfiction these may be links to

favourite authors, stories and reviews or to external sites. This can be seen as a type of

hypertext: electronic text displayed on the computer fragmentarily, where the reader can click

on hyperlinks to continue the narrative (see also Aarseth, 1997; Ryan, 2001; Landow, 2006).

Hyperlinks are important since they give ground to very direct forms of intertext. Within the

case-study all these kinds of intertextual practices can be retraced and studied in detail.

Intertext is in this research mostly used as a term to depict textual relations rather than to

analyze them. My description of fan practices will be more aimed at the concepts mentioned

before and focus on storytelling rather than formal or semiotic comparisons between texts.

Transmedia storytelling

This thesis also explores transmedia storytelling, the spreading and extending of narratives

across various media platforms (e.g., comics, movies, animations). This concept was first

used by Henry Jenkins in Technology Review (2003) and describes how a story is co-created

by various corporations to include new information. While a television series or movie used to

limit the story to that medium, nowadays bits and pieces are smeared over various platforms.

According to Jenkins (id.) this leads to a specific kind of consumption: ‘Younger consumers

have become information hunters and gatherers, taking pleasure in tracking down character

backgrounds and plot points and making connections between different texts within the same

franchise’. Transmedia storytelling can be taken quite broadly. For instance, Long (2004)

writes about the way action figures can add to the story while Ito (2003) discusses card games

as adding to a narrative.

Transmedia storytelling is only one of the terms to cover the practice of a story being

transferred to different media. Marie-Laure Ryan describes the process in Narrative Across

Media (2004a) as: the ‘cross-medial study of narrative’ (p. 23); ‘narrative media studies (p.

35) ‘and ‘transmedial narratology’ (id., see also Herman, 2004), all of which refer to the same

22

practice. Another concept that is similar to these is Bolter and Grusin’s remediation.

Remediation can be defined as the ‘formal logic by which new media improve upon or

remedy prior media forms’, ergo the way in which new media incorporate elements of the old

(1999, p. 273). For instance, hypertext can incorporate features of print culture; movie

adaptations can depict features of the original comic; television broadcasts still have

similarities with the radio. Remediation is therefore not the same practice as transmedia

storytelling rather it can be a potential feature when a story is transferred to new media. As a

concept remediation captures different media platforms as a kind of linear, technological

success story. Here the different versions are not presented as alternatives or additional means

of telling a story, but rather as an aemulatio of the earlier medium. Remediation underlines a

simplified image of what media do and how different media add up to each other. The term

transmedia storytelling, however, enables a discussion about the stories, their shape and their

reception, as well as their platforms.

Transmedia storytelling is commonly related to big ‘story worlds’ that enable

reworkings, prequels, sequels and side stories based on different characters. Even earlier texts

as Walter Benjamin’s The Storyteller (1936) explain how important the world and a reader’s

connection with it is for telling a story. In this essay Benjamin describes that the storyteller

has many similarities with the historiographer in ways of making a chronology and

interrelating events. The genealogy is what counts. In his thesis on transmediality Geoffrey

Long (2007) writes: ‘the world must be considered a primary character of its own, because

many transmedia narratives are not the story of one character at all, but the story of a world’.

Transmedia storytelling offers different entry points to dive into a story world, which means

that it needs to offer more than an adaptation or imitation of an already existing text. For

instance, an accurate movie version of a source-text generally displays a very low factor of

transmedia storytelling. After all, it mostly depicts the same story. Transmedia storytelling

succeeds where it smears out its narrative over various media, depicting different instances of

the story. Thus corporations draw new audiences and expand the genealogy for those already

familiar with the content.

Story worlds demand active readers to understand the narrative in its fullest sense

(e.g., Landow, 2006, p. 245; Herman, 2004, p. 50). The act of putting together bits and pieces

of the story is the central goal, though ideally one can also choose to consume only one of the

texts of the franchise. Indeed, the puzzling over the narrative may even be the key to the

success of such worlds. To enable a good franchise and indeed, flourishing fan practices, one

needs a story that is rich, multi-layered and has all kinds of background content that is hinted


23

at. Fiction that succeeds in building such worlds includes for example The Matrix (e.g.,

Jenkins, 2006b), Star Trek, Buffy The Vampire Slayer (e.g., Gwenllian Jones, 2005) or Harry

Potter. The practice of transmedia storytelling is also a more common thing in Japan, where a

series often comes with various adaptations (e.g., manga, anime, game) and a great deal of

merchandising (e.g., Jenkins, 2006b, notably p. 110).

Another point of success of transmedia storytelling is the unravelling of the actual

story line and background content, some of which may purposely only be hinted at. These can

be places that are never seen in the source-text, but can be elaborated later, or histories of

characters that are only briefly mentioned. Rather than the plot, settings or events, the

occurrence of generic or side characters can also appeal to the imagination of the viewer or

reader. Long (2007) describes these practices as ‘negative capability’, the act of creating

provocative gaps in a story that create a sense of doubt, insecurity and wondering (id., pp. 53-

69). Providing these openings leaves room for input of the audience but at the same time it

generates material for the author or team to come up with more products.

This is what particularly draws fans towards stories with rich environments: the first

step for a lot of fan practices is made when there are gaps in a story. The audience wants to

discuss them, reach a sense of closure and depict what may have happened. To depict the high

affinity of fans with a certain story world I use the term immersion which assumes that fans

distance themselves from the actual world and succumb to a certain narrative entirely (see

also chapter 3). The concept is explored in narrative studies when audience reception and

reading processes across media are examined. Immersion as a state of imagination fits the

idea that fans actively engage with texts and connect deeply to a fictional world as such.

Fans usually refer to the source-text and its story world in the term canon. This is not

to be confused with canon in literary studies, which refers to body of works that are highly

regarded and studied, though canon in this sense is important for fan studies as well where

fans create new canons of popular texts. For fans and within fan studies canon means the

official information or material that is established in fictional product by the creators. The

information is genuine in a sense that it actually happened in the narrative: this need not have

been an actual event, but can also be hinted at by characters. This is described as subtext:

themes, motives or meanings that are implicit within the canon source-text. Fanfiction is in

general not considered canon because it is not an official product. However, it can be true to

the canon in terms of characterization, settings or plot. Fanfiction always corresponds to the

canon to some degree, a degree that the fan-author chooses himself. Fans like to play with the

24

official texts and refer to the canon to describe the ways in which their own stories fit the

existing narrative or undermine it.

Canon is the opposition of fanon. Sometimes fans establish information themselves

which spreads rapidly. Certain fan texts have such an influence that their ideas are used in

more fan texts. This is called fanon, referring to the fictional concepts that fans have coined

and that circulate online or offline. This interpretation of facts can be confused by fans with

the actual canon. Fanon can become canon when companies adopt the information via

audience input online which influences their story line development, by licensing a fan text or

arguably, by hiring a fan.

Transmediality poses problems for the canon in terms of reworking and adapting.

Different products of a transmedial story world might not add up narrative wise and fans may

base their fiction on varying source-texts, which then needs to be stated, as will be elaborated

in chapter 3. Furthermore, if something is translated to another media, elements are lost or

replaced. The media-specific elements have been negotiated in several essays in Marie-Laure

Ryan’s Narrative Across Media. Most texts argue nothing essential of the narrative is violated

when translating (Herman, 2004; Elliott, 2004; Marie-Laure Ryan, 2004a), though it does

pose new theoretical problems when defining what a narrative is (Ryan, 2004a, p. 32-33).

Moreover for fans and other consumers there can be a fear that things are added or lost in the

new ‘language’. The fear of adaptations or additional bits of a story is quite genuine, because

some fans feel the story world would no longer be the same, but violated or misrepresented.

Often one of the texts will feel like a better representation or more true. For instance, Star

Trek Enterprise was subjected to a lot of critique because it did not fit the atmosphere of the

earlier series. I retraced similar discussions in my case-study (see chapter 3).

Subsets of transmedia storytelling can vary from autonomous (e.g., a standalone movie

adaptation) to hardly any autonomous at all (e.g., music, action figures, art books). Though

everything takes part in transmedia storytelling, not all of the products will be good entry

points and some might provide a slightly different version of the story altogether. Transmedia

storytelling has been subjected to the critique that you often need the actual text or ur-text to

understand the story world at fullest (Dena, 2007). However, this is only the case with some

texts. For instance, it is necessary to start with the series of Buffy The Vampire Slayer rather

than the comics, because the comics is an additional season that takes place after the series in

the chronology. However, you can hook up with Star Trek at any point be it a series or movie,

and because it is highly episodical, you can arguably start within a series as well. I would

argue this has to do with the autonomy of the products: though some transmedial products are


25

stand-alone and form good anchors into the world, others depend more on other texts or take

place at a very distinctive part of the series’ history.

Researching the fan

In the following overview I try to define several key authors and modes in the history of fan

studies. I also focus on the critique some of these scholars received to show how the field has

progressed throughout the years. Overviews on fan studies commonly start of with Henry

Jenkins (1992) and Camille Bacon-Smith (1992) to depict the early studies on fanfiction (e.g.,

Busse, Hellekson, 2006, pp. 17-20; Gray, Sandvoss, 2007). Some histories begin earlier with

the studies of popular culture by Grossberg or Fiske, while the previously mentioned authors

still remain anchor points (e.g., Gwenllian-Jones, 2005; Bailey, 2005).

The studies on fans of the early nineties are highly involved with the interpretation and

production of texts in fan cultures. Their focus remains largely on textual fan practices, such

as fanfiction, and how to make sense of the communities that surround these. Here fans are

depicted as producers of knowledge and new texts. Later studies argue against that image by

showing it neglects the root of fan practices: affection (e.g., Hills, 2002a, pp. 65-72). The

absence of the emotional side of being a fan in early scholarly texts leads to an image of the

fan as a critic. However, a fan is never an objective reader of a text. Fans are highly

passionate about a source-text and act upon that. Fan descriptions may raise arguments of

quality within fiction, but one should pay heed to the fact that fan’s opinions are emotionally

coloured (see also McKee, 2001, p. 16-20).

Early studies on fans also emphasize fan communities as a mode of resistance against

mainstream popular culture: fans negotiate the dominant meanings of texts, and poach, as

Henry Jenkins (1992) calls it, the text by opening it up for new interpretations and alternative

versions. Though fan practices have subversive sides, fans are depicted less politically now

than in the nineties. The emphasis on resistance in early studies can now be explained in two

ways. The first argument follows out of their unit of analysis, as Scodari also describes (2003,

pp. 113-117). Early academic texts usually deal with specific forms of fanfiction: Mary Sues

and slash. Mary Sue is a genre of fanfiction that features a perfect, original female character

that enters the story world. These narratives are frequently regarded as a wish-fulfilment of

the female fan-author and notably interesting because of their feministic representation of

women. This element is picked up by early scholars who elaborate upon the empowerment of

female characters in this fiction.

26

Secondly slash is often analyzed in early studies: a genre of fanfiction in which

straight characters are portrayed as gay, thereby undermining the source-text and taking a

seemingly emancipative stand. Scholars commonly use this to illustrate a progressive

tendency in fandoms through its use of homosexual themes (e.g., Bacon-Smith, 1992; Jenkins,

1992, pp. 185-222). The analysis of Mary Sue and slash leads to somewhat exaggerated view

of fanfiction as opposed to mainstream culture. However, a fair part of these stories actually

deals with heterosexual relations and conventional genres. Moreover, the queer or subversive

motives in fan practices should not be mistaken for a political or emancipative stand per se.

Slash for instance confirms dominant discourses on gender and sexuality as well: it commonly

effeminizes one of the characters in the homosexual relation; it neglects lesbian fiction and

often presumes that the characters are only gay by exception (e.g., Scodari, 2003, p. 114).

The focus on these genres is not the only thing that leads to a subversive image of

fans. In the nineties fans still have to be put on the agenda as a subculture worth studying

which requires a certain rhetoric. Emphasizing the good and innovative sides of fandom

makes this possible as well as analyzing fanfiction as democratic genre (Jenkins, 2006a, p. 8-

10; Gray et. al., 2007, pp. 1-4). Importantly, early scholars also argue against a specific image

of fans that is established in the media. Mainstream culture usually portrayed fans negatively,

either as quirky and pathetic, or as potentially violent sociopaths. Indeed, the term is an

abbreviation of fanaticus or ‘fanatic’ which has the connotation of ‘fancy’, religious fits and

overactive engagement, which can be portrayed tragically or violently (e.g., Bailey, 2005, p.

48-49; Jenkins, 2006a, p. 17). The first studies on fans also try to adjust that image. In doing

so they emphasize that a large part of fandom is for instance formed by women who are

involved in close-reading and show specific expertise. This focus also produces a normative

image of fans in which they are depicted as too progressive (see also Hills 2002a, p. 8-10).

Though fan-scholars are more aware of this imagery now, describing fans normatively still

remains a discussion point (e.g., Jenkins, 2006a, p. 10-11).

After these first studies various publications follow that tap from different academic

backgrounds and authors. Busse and Hellekson (2006) continue their history of fanfiction by

showing the various scholars, interpretations and discourses within the studies of fanfiction

and other fan practices, while underlining that fanfiction continued to be a dominant subject in

this field. In their overview they elaborate shortly on individual authors and groundbreaking

texts, rather than depicting new trends that followed in the nineties. By contrast Gray,

Sandvoss and Harrington (2007) argue that there was a second wave of fanfiction as well,

which tried to incorporate the aesthetic quality of fan products. This second wave analyzed


27

the social and cultural hierarchies within fandom, inspired by Bourdieu’s terminology (id., pp.

5-7). Capturing fan studies in several waves seems rather presumptuous. The field of fan

studies is pretty small to begin with, which makes it odd to speak of a first, second and

arguably third wave (which would then be Gray, Sandvoss and the like themselves).

Though the studies from the early nineties have a clear tendency, what is published

after that is rather broad and from various disciplines. Gray and Sandvoss’s suggestion can be

retraced in a minor selection of publications to illustrate the second wave, but this is not

entirely representative of the corpus of texts of that time (e.g., Busse and Hellekson mention

texts with a fully different tenor). Furthermore, the publications of fan studies basing

themselves on Bourdieu cover a range of years rather than one particular moment. Analyzing

the aesthetic value of fan products is still an ongoing endeavour. For instance, the literary

qualities or analyses of fanfiction have recently been discussed by Pugh (2004), Stasi (2006),

Kaplan (2006). Indeed, the suggestion of a second wave seems mostly rhetorical in essence, a

strategy to make their own publication seem new and inventive. Similar theoretical ideas can

be traced in their earlier publications (Gray, 2006; Sandvoss, 2005).

Aside from this division in three waves, Jenkins himself has reflected on the history of

fan studies. He argues that early media studies of fandom should not start with him, though he

was one of the first scholars studying fans and had a large influence with that (Jenkins, 2006a,

pp. 12-14). Rather earlier theorists as Fiske and Radway, who are criticized or used by later

authors, should be seen as a starting point. From then on, several discourses and groups can be

distinguished; authors that benefited from the ways the earlier scholars had paved (id., pp. 11-

12). He describes himself as belonging to a second generation, rather than the first.

Though fan studies has grown a lot over the years, it is still a young discipline with

many sporadic publications that are hard to capture in terms of waves or tendencies. The field

has developed mostly as a subset of media and social studies, with diverse publications, while

certain tendencies of older work – such as a need for justifying fan practices - are slowly

disappearing. Nowadays scholars cover diverse fan practices. Research on fan videos is for

instance more common nowadays and includes several articles of Jenkins (notably 1992, p.

223-249) and fan scholars as Francesca Coppa. Nonetheless the field still has a lot of niches.

Publications on cosplay are very rare; it is difficult to find good literature on conventions or

differences of conventions between countries; role-playing is still not represented well and fan

dancing as para para seems entirely absent. Moreover, most of the publications focus solely

on Western series, while Japanese popular culture has become increasingly important over the

28

years and dominant in mainstream Western culture (shops; broadcasting; news) and fan

cultures: conventions and online fan communities.

This study deals with the Western readings and interpretations of a Japanese video

game as a case-study. Most Western fans will be familiar with a localized Western variant of

the product that has been translated or adapted (or censored). With that specific example this

study hopes to contribute to the influence of Japanese source-texts that are more embedded in

youth culture than a lot of the commonly studies Western texts (e.g., Harry Potter, Buffy The

Vampire Slayer, Xena: Warrior Princess, Star Trek, The X-Files). Studies on this are

relatively scarce and tend to focus on the adaptation of anime, card games or sentai of the

nineties and later (e.g., Jenkins, 2006a; Hills, 2002b; Ito, 2003). By focusing on Tales of

Symphonia this thesis will also depict how Japanese products as games are handled by

corporations and how they influence Western audiences.

Self-reflexivity: The researcher as a fan

Fan studies is a field mostly explored by scholars who are themselves fans or have friends or

family that are. Through their own practices or conversations they realize fandoms are worth

examining since they have so many sides that are yet to be analyzed. Thereby it has a personal

touch that is often seen as a taboo in cultural studies, which subjected it to similar critiques as

for instance gender studies, a discipline which has grown by the interest and activity of

feminist scholars themselves. As the previous history depicts, fan studies is relatively young

and mostly a subset of audience studies that has not gained that much ground yet. The

subjective dimension of this research and my own position in it will be dealt with in this

paragraph. I shall focus strongly on the strange dichotomy that is made between the personal

(fan) dimension of research and the academic practice, and question whether avoiding or

over-explaining this duality might not be the actual fallacy here.

To justify their own touch in fan research, scholar-fans tend to invent terms and

concepts to describe their methodology. I employ scholar-fan here because it is a neutral way

to describe the scholar who is also a fan and does not have an apparent semantic history as

other terms to describe this identity. It has been used by Busse and Hellekson (2006) as a term

to depict the authors of their collection of essays. Indeed, coming out in fan studies is taken

for granted and various terms have been coined to describe this tension. One of the most

important terms used to exhibit the scholar-fan, firstly, is Aca/fan, a term by Hills (2002a) and

popularized by Jenkins. As he describes in the first entry of his blog Confessions of an

Aca/Fan (2006c) this refers to: ‘a hybrid creature which is part fan and part academic (hence


29

the current, provisional title of this blog). The goal of my work has been to bridge the gap

between these two worlds. I take it as a personal challenge to find a way to break cultural

theory out of the academic bookstore ghetto and open up a larger space to talk about the

media that matters to us from a consumer's point of view’.

Jenkins underlines that he is part of certain fandoms and that his knowledge is a

dialogue with the fans, which has led to positive fan reviews and even a kind of American

cultus around his Textual Poachers (1992) which is still being distributed a lot amongst fans.

However, this position also led to accusations, as Jenkins describes in an interview with Matt

Hills (2006a, notably pp. 10-18): as an academic fan he was seen as being too laudatory of

fans as a means of self-justification, or as ‘slumming’ it by fans themselves, a fake, a fraud, an

imposter posing as one of them. Jenkins does not take such criticism too harshly: it is apparent

he has been a fan since his youth and that his writings are a dialogue with those communities.

The kind of empirical research performed in fan studies is frequently described as

auto-ethnography (Busse, Hellekson: 2006, pp. 24-25; Hills, 2002a). This means the scholar-

fan analyses himself as a subject as well to gain more insights. As Hills describes it (id., p.

72): ‘the tastes, values, attachments, and investments of the fan and the academic-fan are

placed under the microscope of cultural analysis’. Ergo, it refers to position the researcher has

when he or so belongs to a certain group (though, as mentioned, it is hard to describe ‘fans as

one group) or at least is familiar with these practices already. It answers to bias in cultural

studies: subjective tendencies in research should be suspected, rather than taken for granted.

The researcher here is a native. Where the objective observer in cultural studies is seen as

someone that should be an outsider - communicating with the natives while upholding his

authority - the scholar-fan covers his feet in the mud and does not mind joining in on the

ritualistic dance.

I would like to add here that there is a difference between auto-ethnography and

participant observation. The latter is still an outsider who tries to unravel information and

insights by mingling and joining in the field to some degree. By contrast the auto-

ethnographer does not start by believing he is a tabula rasa: someone who is thrown in a new

environment and is smitten by how awkward everything seems. Indeed, there is a

methodological difference between auto-ethnographical tendencies in fan studies (e.g.,

Jenkins, 1992; Hills, 2002a) and the works that are made by someone who is unaware of fan

practices and has just discovered this new field (e.g., Bacon-Smith, 1992). Interestingly, the

difference in outcome, theory and quality of both types of work are not that big, by which I do

not mean to suppose that methodology is overrated. However it seems to help to make your

30

position explicit and from both sides (being unaware as well as aware of these practices) one

can gain valuable insights.

Moreover, participant observation can easily lead to similar conclusions once you are

familiar with the practices. The auto-ethnographer might be a step ahead in being familiar

with some practices, but each case-study also provides him with new insights and requires the

liberty of letting go of some presuppositions. In a recent publication Hills (2007) also goes

into the similarities between various disciplines and the way the researcher frames his

interventions. Particularly interesting is his emphasis on the fact that every scholar - not only

in media studies but also in art, literature, politics and so on – is a participant. You are always

a member of the audience. Media studies may be depicted as being a different kind of

discipline, and subjected to critique, but it is impossible not to be engaged at some level. A

literary critic cannot judge without reading the book, and the same could be argued for a

broad spectrum of cultural studies.

That still leaves the oddity of auto-ethnography largely unexpressed. I would suggest

the problem arises not when the scholar-fan goes into a new case or is forced to present

himself; it arises when he deals with a case he is very connected with and personal experience

and reflection are a wealth of information to be used. How to use that source properly? That is

when the actual practice of auto-ethnography is questioned and the loyalty of the scholar-fan

is at stake. This dichotomy can lead to strange research, as Hills (2002a, pp. 65-89) shows,

where at some point a more fannish discourse overthrows the analytical one or where one tries

to self-justify one’s actions constantly. Hills also describes that there is a danger of pouring

one’s experiences into a narrative mode, as well as a tendency to narcissistic closure where

the scholar-fan thinks he has analyzed himself thoroughly and ends the reflection with a

(false) sense of fulfilment (id., notably 71-76). Other dangers include creating a dichotomy

between the experiences of the self and other, as well as adapting theory to a scholar’s own

preferences.

Hills uses good examples to elaborate on these fallacies, yet the solution he provides

to perform good auto-ethnography seems feeble. To train one’s self-reflexivity Hills suggests

to make a list of all the fandoms (and to keep everything open, also interests) the scholar has

ever been in (id., 81-89). When the list is done, the scholar should connect the texts and see

how they relate to each other and parts of your life. This creates a similar sense of narrativity

as the one he argued against, moreover, it is prone to a lot of memory lacks and nostalgic

feelings that reshape the experience. When trying it out myself I found that the list became

extremely long and hard to handle. Also, I could not visualize anymore with certainty why I


31

liked certain series when I was twelve years old. I also found it difficult to judge, for instance,

where things related to my tastes or my background. Did I like Star Trek because my dad

liked it or did it genuinely appeal to me? How do nostalgic feelings for content you used to

love fit in this? The more you think about all of this, the fuzzier it gets. A retrospective,

narrative element is integrated that is more suspect than the spontaneous knowledge you had

before you started the list.

Auto-ethnography can be a misleading concept since in fact all ethnography

incorporates a dimension of self-reflexivity. Indeed, some may choose to avoid the term

altogether. Though Jenkins is often portrayed as someone who performs auto-ethnography, he

himself states he does not perceive it this way (Jenkins, 2006a). What he wants to foreground

rather than his own experience is the dialogue he tries to facilitate between academia and

fans. ‘It’s not auto-ethnography: in a sense it’s simply an outing, an exposure of myself in my

normal fan activity’ (id., p. 14). His method has always involved being responsive to fans,

letting them talk, even edit his drafts, or go in dialogue with them in his publications (e.g.,

Green et al., 1998). This responsiveness is another way of describing the way the research can

position himself in the research, though in practice it might overlap with auto-ethnography.

In my opinion auto-ethnography as a term is not that telling. It suggests a use of

personal experience as a resource that I to some degree even oppose. I try to be aware of my

position in the research without leaning too much on my own experiences as a fan. In this

particular case-study, that deals with fanfiction and is specified to Tales of Symphonia, there

is a different tenor than other fandoms or fan practices, which I constantly tried to mediate

between. I want to foreground the specific elements of this case and in general, try to reflect

on authorship. I find it important that the scholar-fan stays focussed throughout the research,

especially when observing, and tries to reflect on what he experiences, feels and not be afraid

to put that in words. Older experiences as a fan might come in handy, but keeping an open

mind is the best solution, without instating a false sense of surprise. Rather previous

knowledge can be used to make hypotheses and find interesting entry points in the data.

As for outing myself and my affinity with the subject: I have been engaged in

fanfiction for a brief time when I was sixteen and chose to specialize in writing original prose.

It gave me more liberty to try out a more artistic, fragmentary style of writing, and to write in

my native tongue, Dutch, which made all the difference. My sister started to write fanfiction

somewhat later and has never stopped. Throughout the years I have written quite a lot, but

hardly published any prose out of perfectionism. I make comics and drawings, some of which

are fan art in honour of certain series. I have spent more time on that the last years, when I

32

joined a doujinshi circle (an artist group that self-publishes fan comics and original works). I

also cosplay and enjoy organizing skits at conventions. To give an output to notions that are

only marginally (if at all) related to this thesis, I host a blog since January (see Lamerichs,

2009). The blog is an effort to conceptualize all kinds of ideas and drafts.

Method

I perceive my method not as auto-ethnographical, though it is hard to deny I benefit from my

knowledge as a fan. Rather I would like to describe it as responsive, in that I actively

communicate with the community at certain sites (e.g., interviews, conventions and

information of contacts I had before I started the thesis). Online I opted not to communicate

with fanfiction authors or role-players that much, since it would interfere their practice.

During this research I try to stay critical of what I do and realize I have some blind spots.

Although my main case-study is a new field for me since I do not participate in that fandom, I

am familiar with many of the practices involved.

Empirically I combine in-depth interviews with virtual ethnography. To explore the

notion of authorship in relation to fanfiction I hope to discuss the phenomena personally with

fan readers and writers. I have covered five in-depth interviews and talked to various fans

about the subject. Some of these interviewees are enrolled in the fandom that forms my case

study: Tales of Symphonia, a Japanese game released both in the USA as well as Europe.

Tales of Symphonia has a lot of franchise: a sequel, a manga series, animes, action figures and

much more, which enables me to discuss the concept of transmedia storytelling as well. To

gain more in-depth information and perhaps new interviewees I have arranged to give a talk

and host a discussion group at Animecon 2009 (Theaterhotel Almelo, 1-3 May) and hope to

check some of my claims there.

I selected various websites I wanted to observe. Firstly, Fanfiction.net - the largest

host for fanfiction online – features nearly five thousands stories of Tales of Symphonia, a

wealth of material. To keep it tangible I checked the updated fanfiction of Tales of Symphonia

and the given feedback from 16 February to 1 April, 2009. These were roughly 220 stories,

many of which were updated frequently with new chapters. Secondly, I explored the game’s

roleplaying communities on LiveJournal, notably Luceti, a multi-fandom roleplaying blog

renowned for its Tales of Symphonia cast. I analyzed this community from 1 April to 16 May

after which I entered the role-play to gather specific data on the application and to understand

more of the practice in terms of interaction and writing. The fanfiction I read on top of that

depended on the interviewees, their own fiction and the content they recommended to me. For


33

more insights, fiction and meta-textual discussions I occasionally explored the official Namco

site’s board of Tales of Symphonia, that I did not treat as a field for observation due to lack of

time, but more as a source to back up the data I elicited.

The interviews provide substantial, secondary data that could not be derived from

virtual platforms as easily. The interviews allow me to elaborate on the personal dimensions

of fanfiction and role-playing: the identity of the author and relation to his characters,

investment in a series or game, the dynamics of fan cultures and the overlap with original

fiction or other fan practices. My interviewees are diverse, as you can see in their profiles in

the appendix. All of them are Dutch, because they were conducted in person and not via for

instance the chat-programme Skype. As I already stated, I had the liberty of posing questions

online via Aim, where I observed the chat sessions of a group of role-players.

In this thesis the specific practices of fans are highlighted, which add up to an original

text not only out as a creative pursuit, but also as an emotional one. I also take into account

how fans describe themselves and their identity as related to the source-text and fandom. This

differs from a large amount of SNS-sites that do have active users, but explore social relations

rather than fiction. Since I deal with fan practices that have a very specific terminology, I also

appended a glossary in which the fan concepts are briefly captured. All of the concepts are

explained in the thesis itself as well, but since some of them are recurring it is convenient for

any reader to have the definitions in one list as well.

The next chapters each have a particular angle. The second chapter deals with the

history of storytelling and authorship, how this afflicted our image of the author and the text,

and how new forms of fiction renegotiate this. The third chapter focuses on transformative

authorship and fanfiction that bridge original and pre-existing content. The emphasis here is

on the creative reworking of texts, the community in which this takes place and the way

readers value fanfiction authors and their texts. The fourth chapter deals with the performative

element in fanfiction which is explained via textual role-playing. Authors are highlighted here

that act out existing characters and construct a certain portrayal of them. The last chapter is a

conclusion that bridges transformative and performative authorship and describes how fan-

authors redefine authorship in the whole.

34


35

Chapter 2

Bards, authors, scribblers

A history of authorship and its consequences

Once upon a time there was a storyteller

And this storyteller was the keeper of cultural heritage in the days of old. Script had not been

invented yet, or only in a very basic pictorial form, and thus all messages were passed orally

from one person to the other, from one generation to the next. They were wrapped in songs,

ballads, folk tales, and chants and told in front of an audience. The storyteller could be a bard,

a priest, a traveller or your grandmother. A tale was repeated many times by many people

living in all kinds of places. Each time the tale became a little bit different. Until, finally, it

was another tale, shared in a different culture, in different time.

This type of culture - a system in which narratives depend on oral messages and

testimonies - is called oral culture. We usually define the development of writing systems in

an oral culture, scribal culture and print-culture. In Western countries we have left the oral

phase behind us long ago when script was invented, but other societies still communicate this

way. In oral cultures there was only a storyteller, who became a narrator much later in

Western culture, which will be highlighted in this section. But who was this storyteller and

what was so specific about his narratives?

When we think back of oral cultures we might be reminded of the Greece times and

the blind Homer, who travelled to collect and share stories, which were written down much

later, perhaps even by a different individual, or multiple individuals. This might be a highly

typical example, but it immediately sets a tone of what orality is about. In oral cultures stories

are told and preserved through sharing and retelling. As such, an oral culture is repetitive in

nature. In an older yet still insightful essay Walter Benjamin (1937) wrote that ‘storytelling is

always the art of repeating stories, and this art is lost when the stories are no longer retained’.

Linguistically oral stories are less polished than the written word, often redundant and less

structured. The storyteller pays specific attention to actual surroundings and everyday life.

When describing his tales the storyteller takes his audience in account. He can see his

listeners, pose them questions and steer the story in ways they like. Indeed Walter Ong (1982)

shows how highly episodic these storytellers work to improvise the narrative, sometimes for

the audience sake, sometimes because it is a better way to memorize content. They tap from

different reservoirs and think of multiple ways in which a story can unfold. ‘In fact, an oral

36

culture has no experience of a lengthy, epic-size or novel-size climactic linear plot,’ Ong

describes and he exemplifies this by pointing out the absence of a logical chronology in,

amongst others, The Illiad (id., p. 140). The structure of these stories was a consequence of

their combination in a scribal manuscript. The absence of a clear plot forms a difference with

the later writer, who does not improvise, but plans his story carefully, thereby freezing it.

Those who read print adjust to a tale. In oral storytelling, the opposite happens (e.g., id., 45).

The performative element here is not just crucial for the audience’s sake. A storyteller

relies strongly on his performative qualities. For instance, in the way a story is brought

rhythm plays a role, as a format to perform a tale as well as a strategy for reminding it (id., p.

57-67). During his performance the storyteller also depends on gestures whereas a writer does

not. Storytelling also means showing: working with your body and hands to rhetorically make

it more convincing and entertaining. ‘Storytelling, in its sensory aspect,’ Benjamin (1937)

explains, ‘is by no means a job for the voice alone. Rather, in genuine storytelling the hand

plays a part which supports what is expressed in a hundred ways with its gestures trained by

work’.

In scribal culture or manuscript culture, a writing system is invented and manuscripts

are made by certain privileged literate citizens, varying from elitists to monks. In the history

of Western countries this phase mostly refers to the Middle Ages where manuscripts were

used to preserve information by the copying of these texts by hand. Going to a manuscript and

reading it was usually a journey by itself, almost like a pilgrimage (e.g., Landow, 2006, p.

100). Upon arrival the reader had to invest some good time in understanding the hand writing

and the many abbreviations. Scribal culture and its manuscripts were frequently associated

with religion and magic (Ong, 1982, p. 92). Since most people could not read, the manuscript

was perceived as a rare artefact, mediated by those who could read as a kind of priests or

gurus. To some degree each manuscript was indeed unique since the copies varied a lot

(Landow, 2006, pp. 99-103).

Writing manuscripts was an effort that especially in its early days involved rare tools

and hard work rather than just jotting something down on paper as we do now. Until the 19th

century literature relied mostly on scholarly or academic life. When reading manuscripts this

could also be retraced in terms of style. For instance, literary styles were heavily oritical back

then: formal, rhetorical and similar to lectures (Ong, 1982, pp. 92-94). They were meant to be

read out loud and written with an imaginary listening audience in mind. The overlap between

orality and writing also becomes apparent in other features of this culture, for instance, silent

reading did not exist. Readers read these texts out loud. Indeed Ong emphasizes that


37

‘manuscript cultures remained largely oral-aural even in the retrieval of material preserved in

texts’ (id., p. 117).

Importantly Walter Ong makes a difference here between oral cultures that feature

primary orality and residual orality. The primary stage categorizes those cultures in which

there is no writing system and all communication goes by telling and showing, as I described

when I referred to oral cultures. Residual orality, however, depicts societies in which there is

a writing system that is not mastered by the entire population but by cultural elite or

professional scribers. In scribal cultures mass illiteracy and writing often go hand in hand

because texts cannot be distributed so easily. In Ong’s terminology orality coincides with

other cultural forms: scribal culture for instance does not exclude features of the oral mode

such as reading out loud and imagining a text orated.

In print-culture this changes when press technology assures that texts can actually

circulate in multiple copies rapidly. This happened in Western countries in the late eighteenth

century when printing was refined and became widespread. The Gutenberg Press (ca. 1450)

was already invented earlier, but it took some time for printing to be applied as such. Printing

technologies had various consequences on the practices of reading and writing. Firstly,

printing enabled widespread copies which enabled new genres meant for a mass audience

such as newspapers. The circulation of texts directly influenced the literacy of the population,

their education and need to be educated. Whereas manuscripts were often highly functional -

aimed at the producer and selective educated readers - printing became consumer-oriented

since a copy was far less work and could be distributed (Ong, 1982, p. 120).

Print-culture also redefined the way stories were made and published, because it

changed texts into commodities, dependent on an audience and market. Publishers started to

arise, critics and institutes that had to calculate what readers expected to get out of certain

publication. Economics started to play a role. Because reproduction was made possible,

authority and copyright became an issue. An author had to be recognized for the intellectual

property he had created, in part because he now had to deal with the market mill: publishers,

honorarium and more. Authors’ rights were grounded in eighteenth century laws (such as the

Statute of Anne, 1709). The related notions of authenticity and originality dating from the

Romantics are seen as a consequence of this by historians of print (Landow, 2006, p. 102).

But print-culture did not only create the need for copyright, it also secluded texts and

changed them. A text became autonomous, frozen and sequential: organized in a strict, linear

storyline. Where a text used to be dynamic, edited and had multiple versions, it was now

made solid by its multiple copies. A writer had to be selective and revise his products with the

38

help of established editors. This system made new formats possible, such as the novel, a

carefully constructed linear story or specific popular genres as the detective, which lean on

textual suspense and a climactic build-up (Ong, 1982, pp. 136-152). Reading then became

what we know it to be, an act by an individual in silence. The reader sits by his fire place and

the author is only an abstract persona for him, perhaps even a genius that crafted an

extraordinary work. Where the storyteller used to guide his audience when he performed the

tale, the modern reader makes sense of the content by himself (see also Atwood, 2002).

By enabling copyright and authorship, the image or persona of an author was also

constructed in the Romantic era. Where we take the author for granted nowadays, he is a

rather late phenomenon in the history of stories and writing, just like the artist and genius, all

defined by their seemingly exceptional skills (Atwood, 2002; Foucault, 1984; Ong, 1982, pp.

131). The author stepped up a pedestal, away from the actual people that he could still reach

when he was a mere storyteller. Not just his books had to be one of a kind: the Romantic

author had to be one of a kind himself, a true creator, writing what meant something to him.

Self-expression became a key value and stories became equated with individual narratives

rather than collective endeavours, written by a distant genius, instead of one of our own. ‘The

birthplace of the novel is the solitary individual,’ Benjamin (1937) writes grimly, ‘who is no

longer able to express himself by giving examples of his most important concerns, is himself

uncounseled, and cannot counsel others.’

In the twentieth century there followed a debate over authorship, anticipated by more

formalistic approaches to text (e.g., New Criticism) which paid attention to the text by itself,

without extratextual information. Authorship was put on the agenda notably by structuralists

as Barthes. Specifically Barthes’ essay Death of the Author (1967) influenced the way author-

reader relationships were explored in literary studies. The essay argues against authorial

intentionality as a way of interpreting texts. Biographical information or interpretations of the

author should not be way of interpreting the text, rather this should rely on its readers as

active interpreters. A text had to be perceived as a cultural product, dependent on conventions

and other texts.

Barthes’ text inspired Foucault to write a lengthier essay in 1969 on authorship and the

way the idea of an author regulates readers. He argues that earlier texts by Barthes and

Derrida - though they made ‘the death of the author’ apparent - never really depicted how

authorship concretely functions. Foucault analyzes how the author operates as a cultural

phenomenon and influences our interpretation. First he goes into the author’s name, which

classifies texts. A name becomes a way of labelling and depicting a work in terms of literary


39

history. Then he discusses the author function: conventions surrounding the author that

influence the ways texts are made, distributed and read. He specifically coins four

characteristics of the author function: Firstly, the author function came into existence because

authors’ rights were required to show who owned a text, which was important when books

were circulated more and fiction became property. Secondly, the author function does not

affect all texts in the same way, for instance, we would not call someone who writes letters an

author. Thirdly, the construction of an author is troublesome and differs from the construction

of an individual identity: he is a regulating principle. Thinking a certain text is written by a

certain author will affect our image of it and even solve inconsistencies in it. Lastly, the

author is not the actual person but more of an alter ego, a persona.

Foucault ends with the remark that authorship is a limitation for textual interpretation

and that it might vanish altogether. But what will happen if the author really dies? A new

discourse will arise, Foucault predicts, ‘in such a manner that fiction and its polysemous texts

will once again function according to another mode, but still with a system of constraint’

(1984, p. 119). The envisioned system in which the author is absent will also lack authority.

‘All discourses, whatever their status, form, value, and whatever the treatment to which they

will be subjected, would then develop in the anonymity of a murmur’ (id.). The kind of

textual production online reminds us of Foucault’s conclusion.

Electronic writing

Quite recently the internet changed our perspective on writing, not only by enabling new

technologies and media for writing, but also by providing platforms where everyone can

upload his or her texts. Writing has become less dependent on print technology now, and

indeed, many authors argue that although we still have print, we are at the start of a new

paradigm or discourse (e.g., Ong, 1982; Landow, 2006). The internet has opened up texts in

various ways in opposition to the print-culture in which texts were fixed, closed and the

author remained distant.

As mentioned in the first chapter, the internet nowadays includes more participatory

sites (e.g., SNS-sites, social networking sites such as Facebook) with comment functions.

These also provide us with a large amount of texts that are actually responses of readers.

Typical examples include sites as YouTube and Wikipedia, and practices as podcasting.

These applications are usually covered under the umbrella term Web 2.0 (since 2001) hinting

at the changed atmosphere online that encourages interaction and thus makes the internet an

even more open, active, democratic platform. Though older technologies such as blogging

40

provide somewhat similar interaction, Web 2.0 depicts convergence at a much higher,

multimedial level and embedded in different systems. It thereby constructs a more active

audience by making readers/viewers into contributors. When we deal with electronic texts,

this new tension between producers and consumers should be emphasized as well. Landow

manages to capture these changes briefly: ‘The characteristic flexibility of this reader-centred

information technology means, quite simply, that writers have a much greater presence in the

system, as potential contributors and collaborative participants but also as readers who choose

their own paths through the materials’ (2006, p. 45). It would however be too easy just to

refer to readers as contributors in this communication. The relation between the author, reader

and text changes here in various ways.

Firstly, the electronic text relies less on institutionalized systems as the printed text.

When a reader wants to comment on it, the text and author are often within reach, whereas in

print-culture one has to go through different media or critics to give feedback and receive it.

The comments on the text are not annotations or plenary texts but actually manage to become

a part of the text through hyperlinks/comment systems that create a node or open text, rather

than a disclosed text with subtexts (e.g., Landow, 2006, p. 99). The secluded, linear nature of

the print text now makes way for a text that is less hierarchical. Naturally we should add that

in print-culture there also exist possibilities to make more open texts for instance via footnotes

that create texts-within-texts that one can optionally read (e.g., Aarseth, 1997, pp. 7-9;

Landow, 2006, p. 120-121). Mind that footnotes are still sealed off from the main text, while

annotations within electronic texts establish less of a hierarchy because they are linked to the

content and become part of the text.

Secondly, electronic texts are less dependent on editors and large publishers. Note that

this already changed when low-cost copy machines enabled small-press printing, as for

example the fanzine scene has shown. We see that new editor mechanisms arise to assure that

even grassroots publishing online has the desired quality for a certain platform. Through

feedback of readers or appointed editors a lot of content is refined, polished and cleaned (e.g.,

chapter 3 deals with the beta-reading system in fan communities). Despite the opportunity to

upload every work in progress, most writers will also reflect on this. Despite the varying skills

and capacities of authors online, they will try to create the best text they can and perhaps

switch to another site or host when they have developed more skills.

Furthermore an electronic text has a more fluid nature because it can be edited,

removed and updated at will. It is less bounded by a paper publication that freezes it for a long

time. Printed publications make a work more permanent. That is not to say that manuscripts


41

cannot be edited and prints cannot be updated in a second version, but the possibilities are far

more limited than electronically. Indeed for a writer it is almost impossible to rewrite an

entire narrative after it has been published, though some writers of fiction also changed their

second editions immensely (e.g., the Dutch novel Nooit meer slapen by W.F. Hermans). In

print-culture such moves tend to annoy critics who are concerned about which narrative was

the most authentic. In contrast, when discussing electronic writing it is taken more or less for

granted that texts can be rewritten at a certain point and uploaded again. Whereas print-culture

forecloses a text, electronic texts remain dynamic. Thereby the text also looses its fixed,

autonomous, canonical identity which poses new problems in terms of how culture circulates

and what its legacy should be (e.g., Brownen, 2005).

Lastly, online texts not only provide a reader with the possibility to interact, but also to

influence a story. By commenting on fiction that is still being written, the reader can have an

input in the narrative itself. Certain online platforms as forums have also stimulated creative

collaborations between artists all over the world. For instance, it is now possible to write a

little bit, post it and let others continue the narrative. One can write a chapter in Word, let

another author write another chapter and circulate all of this far more easily than earlier. As a

communication medium the internet gives immediate possibilities that writing with a

typewriter or by hand did not allow. A Word document can be sent in a few seconds to

someone else who can continue writing the text. It cannot be denied that the internet and

computer-mediated technology make collaboration more easy and stimulate the transforming

of and attributing to existing texts. In short, the modern author is no longer the central,

dominant figure he used to be, but is becoming more of a team player.

For some critics electronic writing and reading evokes a certain fear that something

artistic is lost in the margins. A vague sense of an aura or something in the reader’s

experience that might change the more we store and read our texts online. A notable advocate

of this is Sven Birkerts (2006) who fears that electronic writing and publishing might not only

afflict the quality of writing, but also the distribution of stories that are worthwhile and the

identity of the reader altogether. He foresees a culture of superficial reading, with an

overproduction of non-fiction, while media such as movies attract a bigger audience for

fiction (e.g., p. 194). He argues that reading experience online is a fully different, less

desirable, experience than reading mediated by books (notably, pp. 117-133). Printed

literature in his opinion allows immersion into a private world, close-reading and self-

reflection whereas electronic posts are immaterial and harder to read. The fact that electronic

writing consists of data rather than tangible print, makes it ghostlike and transparent which in

42

turn detaches the reader. ‘Nearly weightless though it is, the word printed on a page is a

thing,’ he argues (p. 154).

The copy or text on the internet is portrayed as a trickster, a ghost, by Birkerts. He

creates a dichotomy between the print version - that is authentic and material – and the

electronic text. Nonetheless, we should remind ourselves that books are also technological

copies, just like these digital copies. Writing in print is mediated, just like writing with a pen

or electronic writing (e.g., Ong, 1982, pp. 80-83; Landow, 2006, p. 46). Moreover, though an

online text seems to lack place, time and authenticity - since it can be dispersed and edited

easily - it has a specific topological dimension (see also Groys, 2003). The digital copy is

stored in a database, as a fixed, albeit virtual space. Theorists as Birkerts may perceive the

digital realm as immaterial, but the same kind of stocking and storing is performed there when

compared to material copying.

Material dimensions aside a digital copy is easier to preserve since it can circulate

well, meaning there are many possible owners of the same digital product. Though in print

culture one could hypothetically create infinite copies as well, in practice this is impossible.

As Landow (2006) explains: ‘One does not encounter many of these issues when producing

print editions because matters of scale and economy decide or foreclose them in advance’ (p.

118). Storing and preserving several versions also becomes easier via new technologies. For

instance, drafts of manuscripts were often unpreserved or hard to get by, while nowadays

digital media preserve various versions. Where an author used to adapt his written version,

scribble in the margins or cross words in frustration, nowadays an author often saves various

versions so he can go back without rewriting the whole thing.

With this electronic writing it also seems we are slowly stepping outside the print-

culture paradigm again which perceived a text as closed and linear. The open text, possibly

spread over several platforms and media, is by itself intertextual. Importantly intertextuality

only became an issue due to print-culture, where it became necessary to remark that texts,

despite their seemingly autonomous character, rely on other texts (Ong, 1982, p. 131). In

electronic writing the text becomes dependent on intertext by hyperlinks, other texts and

comment functions. With that the authority of the printed text starts to crumble and it seems

authorship needs to be reconsidered altogether. The following paragraphs will focus more on

problems that arise out of this new tensions between authors and readers online, by

discussing: firstly, active audience groups in general; the discrepancy between creators of the

source-text and fan-authors and lastly, ownership by depicting the legal debates around

transformative works. The specific practice of fanfiction and its creative/social community


43

will be dealt with in chapter 3, which describes and analyzes the transformative practices of

fans while chapter 4 focuses on the performative dimension thereof.

Think about it: Reception as an active process

When depicting a contemporary active audience, fans are surely one of the better examples.

Fan writers feel a deep affinity with certain stories and a need to do more with this fiction

than just consume it. Indeed transformative works altogether stem from the motivation to

flesh out a certain text that has captured one’s imagination vividly. The writer wants to

explore the world, its characters or the plot more thoroughly and share his interpretation with

others. One wonders what the narrative is outside the actual written text, how it continues,

how some characters or worlds came to be. This reader’s wish to explore a text more will be

dealt with here. It will show that the reworking of texts is part of certain responses readers

have towards texts and is not aligned with any medium whatsoever, but with fiction in

general.

In literary theory the reader-response criticism nuances on these matters by focusing

on the reader’s experience and reception of a text. Notably Wolfgang Iser (1974; 1976)

provides inspiring views on how the reader actualizes the text, ergo, is consciously given full

meaning by him. Texts, he argues, are not a formal thing as written down by the author; rather

they are heavily dependent on the reader and his world view. Each reader will interpret a text

differently because he has a different cultural repertoire, taste and set of lived experiences.

The expectations of what a text will be about, or should be about, will also differ for each

individual and will be restructured when the reader rereads a text. A text is a constant bridging

between the familiar – other fiction and experiences – and the unfamiliar, the new experience

and content that this text provides.

A text is thus always a discovery of the unfamiliar and strange, and of your own

imagination and mind set. The text as we perceive it is not the one penned down but

something different altogether, a dialogue between reader and fiction. Though the writer

provides a kind of potential text, it is up to us how we imagine it. Iser uses the term implied

reader to describe this which describes ‘both the prestructuring of the potential meaning by

the text, and the reader’s actualization of this potential through the reading process’ (1974, xii,

see also Iser, 1976, p. 50-67). To some degree the text as read is thus partly yours, since it

heavily depends on your own imagination and is not equal to the written text or text-du-auteur

(see also Bootz, 2005). The text is transformed by the reader already. As Iser states: ‘The fact

that completely different readers can be differently affected by the ‘reality’ of a particular text

44

is ample evidence of the degree to which literary texts transform reading into a creative

process that is far above mere perception of what is written’ (1974, p. 279). The text is thus

not something visual or material, but virtual, dependent on our mind set.

Furthermore, a text is highly dynamical. Throughout our reading we adapt to the text

and how we experience it, both fictionally as well as physically: we may look back and

connect little bits of the text; we may miss elements because we are distracted; we take a

liking of certain characters and perhaps skim through parts in which they are absent. During

the reading process some alternatives become more plausible while other lines are excluded.

Our expectations can be completely shattered, yet this surprise can be aesthetically pleasing

(id., p. 287-288). The experience and entertainment value of a text varies per person and the

way it is read as well.

Reading a text thus also means revising it. There is no ideal reader, only a reader with

a certain disposition and taste that may take a liking in this text and appreciate elements of it.

The text as read is constructed out of bits and pieces from the actual text, our culture and

lives. More problematic would be other forms of fiction, for instance television, where the

fiction provides visual information. There the environment blends less with the things one is

familiar with. Still, a similar practice is at hand there when it comes down to thinking about

the narrative or recapturing it after a viewing. Where the writer has left us gaps in the series or

background details, or where a setting is left off-screen, one is triggered and starts to wonder.

This sense of wonder is the start of each form of fanfiction, in which writers display their own

imagination, write it down and share it for each and all. A text is always a network and

interplay between the audience and the producers, but within fanfiction this dialogue becomes

visible and tangible.

What has been described here can also be captured in the term polysemantic (id., 285)

or polysemic (e.g., Sandvoss, 2005, p. 123-153). A text can be interpreted in a multitude of

ways, as many as there are readers of a text, or, I would even argue, even far more ways. Each

rereading or dialogue about the text will alter one’s view of it. Throughout the text we

negotiate its details, the conflicting meanings and adjust our opinion. These ideas of multiple

meanings and the inclusion and exclusion of certain elements are not at ease with the

consistent image of a text we want to end up with. A text is fragmentary, shady and

sometimes provocative. We imagine what goes by unformulated. Somewhere between

consistency and multiple meanings the reader balances to find his way in the story.

The act of reading always involves the construction of a story and is never a passive

deed. However, that does not mean that all texts affect us in the same way, indeed, there may


45

even be a huge difference between genres and how people respond to them. Scholars like

Fiske have argued that a popular text may actualize a reader more than a literary one. A

popular text is for Fiske something more accessible to the people and something that also

belongs to the people. Certain texts are made popular because they are well received and

appeal to a larger crowd. In a narrative sense they also differ from more literary texts. For

instance, a popular text often has far more gaps that are purposely written into it (1989, p.

104). Indeed cliff-hangers, gaps and suspense are popular plot devices to make the reader

speculate, continue watching and feel a sense of attachment. Another key feature of pop-

culture – one that specifically appeals to fanfiction authors – is the flatness of characters and

the fact that a reader can attribute more qualities to them or again, fill the blanks in the text

and think about why, for instance, a character came to be as he is, be it cynical or comical.

Marie-Laure Ryan argues that certain genres or media trigger our imagination more

easily than others. For instance, it is often hard to speculate about poetry, because the form is

more verbal and less occupied with content or narrativity than for instance prose (2001, pp.

92-93). She argues that a stereotypical text - roughly comparable to Fiske’s notion of the

popular as being cliché and familiar - allows more immersion: ‘The reader can bring in more

knowledge and sees more expectations fulfilled than in a text that cultivates a sense of

estrangement’ (id., p. 97). Ideally a reader engages with a text better when he needs to do less

effort. Certain media demand more effort to interpret the story behind them which can be for

instance more conceptual rather than full-fledged. This is why an audience connects with

these narratives differently and in a less productive fashion. Nonetheless Ryan argues that

‘immersion can also be the result of a process that involves an element of struggle and

discovery’ (id.). Sometimes when a reader has to do more hard work, a story will appeal to

him more, but this differs per person and text strongly.

Readers thus construct a fictional, imaginative world out of a set of signs. They will

identify with it and eventually become attached to this fiction. Immersion is a key concept to

describe the way a (fan) audience bounds with a text emotionally. This means that a text is not

only actualized, but can also appeal to a person so strongly that the medium disappears and

the virtual story becomes real in a sense. Notably Marie-Laure Ryan (2001) and Janet Murray

(1997) elaborate on this process and connect it to new forms of digital narratives as games

and hypertext. Ryan argues that these new media ‘invite the reader to imagine a world, and to

imagine it as a physical, autonomous reality furnished with palpable objects and populated by

flesh and blood individuals’ (p. 92). The text can evoke very real emotional responses with

the reader, a notion that was known even in old times when Aristotle coined the concept of

46

catharsis: the emotional turmoil of the spectator that eventually has a purifying effect. When a

favourite character dies the audience is upset and the death will be discussed not only by fans,

but also by other viewers or readers. Tearjerkers, as some drama is dubbed, are the result of

our immersion in certain fiction and its tragic elements.

This emotional involvement with a source-text and its characters is a crucial

motivation for both the writers and readers of fanfiction. Aside from the need to fill in the

blanks and interpret certain characters, one has invested in the text as a personal story world

that can be envisioned and matters. As Rebecca Moore (2005) writes in her article on this type

of fiction: ‘Teens find a world they like, befriend the characters, and move in’ (p. 16). The

pleasant feeling of being immersed in the world can continue when the reader fantasizes or

simulates more of the story and eventually jots his ideas down. Indeed a story often leads a

live of its own, even for the writer himself. Fanfiction enables different twists and turns, your

very own seasoning of a story and the ability to carry it beyond its original limits.

The fine print: The hierarchy between a creator and fans

Though a reader may have a very active role when interpreting a story – with the possibility to

create a derivative text of his own - there is still a sharp distance between the audience and the

creators of the source-text. Firstly, even in fan cultures the author or creator remains an

elevated figure in contrast to the fan writers. This creates a paradox between the collaborative

activities of fans and the view of a main text as belonging to an actual author. Secondly,

though fans become writers through their practices, the actual input they have on the source-

text is very limited, even if we are dealing with games or electronic fiction. What they

influence is the interpretation of other fans. Though fan cultures rely on an open text, there are

mechanisms that close it off again. Aside from the hierarchy between the published source-

texts and fan texts, the community relies strongly on the established information in the text

and meta-textual discussions which narrow the interpretations down.

The author is still present in a Romantic fashion as the creator of the source-text: the

one who enables the story and provides the dominant interpretation. George Lucas is a good

example of a persona many refer to when they actually mean a story world his studio

established, such as Star Wars. Indeed Matt Hills (2002) relates the cult status of Star Wars to

‘the fantasized ‘presence’ of George Lucas as creator-auteur, and as a romanticized and

‘revolutionary’ figure in the history of film’ (pp. 132). The author produces coherence and an

entry point to judge something as for instance tasteful, bad or even cult, if his work was

considered to be groundbreaking. Despite the emphasis on audience reception fan cultures


47

still refer to the author and rely on him. The directors or main writers are seen as essential to

understanding and interpreting a text, much in the fashion of authorial intentionality. To

understand a series, you first have to go through Battlestar Galactica’s Ronald D. Moore, Star

Trek’s Gene Roddenberry or X-Files’ Chris Carter. Indeed the creator may be so important

that a new product can stimulate fan activities even before it actually lounged. Note that the

question of authorial intentionality is one of literary studies that becomes more problematic

when applied to transmedial stories where different teams work on story arcs or adaptations.

However, not all media and fiction depend as much on the role of its main creator. In

games, for instance, fans pay attention to authorial intentionality in a very different way,

because there are usually large teams of writers and designers behind it. There is no one to

give the proper credit too or focus on as a central figure. Even when there is only one writer,

like in Sam and Max by Steve Purcell, a lot of fans/gamers will not refer to him but to the

studio that forges the games. The only person in the games industry who roughly forms an

equivalent for authors as J.K. Rowling would be Shigeru Miyamoto. He assured a whole new

genre of games at Nintendo and is also the main creator of titles as The Legend of Zelda and

Super Mario. Miyamoto’s views and intentions matter when it comes down to the stories, but

like George Lucas he also functions as a label when discussing things like Nintendo’s new

policies. In most cases games do not have an equivalent for the author-creator.

When interviewing fans and observing them, this creator-audience hierarchy was also

made explicit. Many fan-authors feel they only own part of the texts, such as the plot, but that

the large text does not belong to them. They emphasize that the actual author or team behind

it is the mastermind, the one they admire and pay tribute too. The characters, setting and even

certain plot elements are seen by them as belonging to companies rather than to fans. All of

them however show clear affinity to the texts on an emotional level and though they state they

do not own the texts, in conversations it becomes clear they feel connected to them. Some of

them even used the words ‘my characters’ when talked about their fanfiction.

Though originality is a strive for most of these writers, the fan-authors are also aware

that derivative fiction cannot be all that original in the first place and is only read by a happy

few. The fans see their take on characters as nothing exceptional, in most cases because their

ambition is to stay true to the main-text or, in the case of parody, stretch the features that are

already there. The authority still belongs to the author who is also perceived as the owner. In

similar fashion the fan-authors show admiration for original content or characters as

belonging to a very different creative practice, that of making actual fiction. They associate

this with creating fiction on an amateur level such as admired professionals do at a higher

48

level, creating your own characters and story world. The fan-authors I interviewed admired

this practice and saw it as something valuable, while they associated their own practice with

fandom rather than creativity. In the workshop however it became clear that some fanfiction

authors also cared a great deal about their writing and aimed to write on a higher level with

original content.

Although fans describe their authorship in a dichotomy with the actual creator in

conversations, they describe their practices very seriously and aim to master them at fullest.

Being a reader as well as a writer, a fan-author may not consciously perceive a text as

belonging to him, but may relate to characters a lot, identify with them and even depict them

as ‘his’ characters. This tension is very important and will be dealt with in the case-study as

well. At the heart of fan practices there is also a wish to connect with a source-text better

which overlaps with a sense of emotional ownership.

Indeed this is also why academics sometimes describe fanfiction as storytelling or folk

rather than in terms of authorship. Because fans rework existing stories in large groups, make

personal variations and are not professionals, they are seen as part of a kind of folk process or

grassroots culture. There stories travel and belong to everyone. As Jenkins (2000) writes:

‘Contemporary Web culture is the traditional folk process working at lightning speed on a

global scale. The difference is that our core myths now belong to corporations, rather than the

folk’. Authors’ rights stand between the fans and the creator nowadays, but what exactly are

the laws regarding fanfiction and who has authority here?

No trespassing: Legal aspects of fan fiction

Fanfiction is commonly perceived as a genre that infringes copyrights but is tolerated by

copyright holders. Corporations allow it because it is amateur work that is hard to target and

attracts highly selective readers yet surprisingly it has become more mainstream during the

years (e.g., Walter, 2003). Nonetheless some fanfiction is very well-written and can draw a

relatively large audience, when it is based on a popular source-text. Sometimes an author may

have reached such high acceptance that he feels the need to publish his work in print or

elsewhere, or pursuit an actual career in writing. Most academics tend to depict fanfiction as a

slippery slope thing legally: when it stays underground and rather invisible there is no

problem, but once money is at stake or the work becomes too famous, it may have legal

consequences (e.g., Moore, 2005). Recent research on these matters by for instance Rebecca

Tushnet however clearly states that fanfiction is legal and that there is no need for fans to hide

behind disclaimers stating they do not own a work. This unclarity is also why scholars stick


49

up for fans via groups such as The Organization for Transformative Works, Chilling Effects

or documents such as the media-related Code for Fair Use (2008). In fact, ‘transformative’

delves right into the heart of the matter by acknowledging texts that bridge original content

and reused material, thus questioning copyright law.

In the nineties, when fan sites were just starting, there was a lot of protest of

corporations against fan practices (Jenkins, 2006b, pp. 169-206; Gwenllian Jones, 2005;

Bailey, 2005, pp. 188-192). Studios such as Fox and Warner Bros sent fans cease and desist

letters, forcing them to stop their online fan practices. Fans were seen as consumers that

infringed copyrights by hosting fanfiction, snippets or images of a series. Some fans chose to

stand their ground against the corporations. Notably Henry Jenkins (id.; 2004a) wrote a

fascinating account about The Daily Prophet – a virtual newspaper inspired by Harry Potter –

whose editor stood up to a cease and desist letter by Warner Bros and won the case.

Nowadays corporations rebelling against fan practices are pretty rare, though some

writers choose to ban derivative works of their writing. Fantasy writer Robin Hobb (2005) for

instance enacted upon this right, arguing amongst others that fanfiction supposedly

encourages bad writing habits and imaginative skills. Another writer, Anne Rice, was turned

off by the fact that amateurs would have their way with her characters (Pugh, 2004). Others

are positive about fanfiction, such as Neil Gaiman (2002) who underlines his own

transformative works: ‘It's a good place to write while you've still got training wheels on -

someone else's character or worlds. […] And it's fun to head over into someone else's

playground: I've written several stories over the years set in other people's worlds (including

an episode of Babylon 5); and if I don't miss the deadline, I'm meant to be writing a Sherlock-

Holmes-meets-the-Chulhu-mythos story very soon’.

However, fans are in a strong position here: Their activities are non-profit and not

harmful to the original product (Gwenllian Jones, 2005). Studios have slowly come to realize

that working against fans and restricting their practices infringes certain audience rights too.

Reception can be both creative and critical, which is not the same as violating the rights of the

owner of a work. Furthermore, creating transformative works is not inherently a fan practice,

a lot of popular content itself is inspired by older fiction explicitly and exactly this familiarity

assures its success. Xena: Warrior Princess reworks ancient myths while Buffy The Vampire

Slayer parodies horror fiction. Nowadays rather than clinging on to their content, studios try

to encourage fan activity and convergence in all sorts of ways, even by motivating fan

practices on boards, Twitter or MySpace.

50

In general fanfiction has several legal aspects. As Jenkins (2000) explains: ‘Fan critics

might be covered by the same "fair use" protections that enable journalists or academics to

critically assess media content, or by recent Supreme Court decisions broadening the

definition of parody to include sampling. Fans do not profit from their borrowings, and they

clearly mark their sites as unofficial to avoid consumer confusion’. Let me briefly touch upon

two elements Jenkins mentions: fair use and parody law. Firstly, fair use is an American law

(17 US Code, section 107) which differs from European authors’ rights. It leans heavily on

the use of copyright material for “purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting,

teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research, is not an

infringement of copyright” (17 US Code, section 107). Whether the use of a work is fair

depends on several aspects of a work: First of all it has to be transformative, rather than

imitative, secondly, it should not compete with the actual work and its market (Chander,

Sunder, 2005). The latter is hardly ever the case when it comes down to fan practices which

only reach a small audience, but may become interesting when a writer has grown

qualitatively to such a degree that he considers publishing.

Firstly I shall explain transformative use and when exactly a work falls under that

category. Rebecca Tushnet (2007, p. 61) writes: ‘Transformative uses are uses that add new

insights or meaning to the original work, often in ways that copyright owners don’t like’. A

review can be transformative in a sense that you interpret a text and write a plenary text to

negotiate it. For a fan text this often means the plot has to be original to some degree rather

than the characters or setting. Tushnet adds: ‘Courts are more likely to find a use fair when it

comments on the underlying work – when it brings out in the open what was already present

in subtext or context’ (id., p. 62) In general all of this becomes harder when dealing with other

fan products, such as fan music videos that also take existing songs and footage (id., p. 70). In

The Netherlands and other parts of Europe, however, the legal system includes specific

authors’ rights (article 25, Auteurswet). These are a subset of moral rights and can allow an

author to press charges when a work is considered to be harmful for his image or enable

author’s heirs to ban derivative works. This law is narrower than the American way of

judging intellectual property rights.

A fan work can also fall under parody law legally. Parody law in the US and Europe

works in a similar fashion, meaning that you have the right to make derivative works such as

parody or pastiche as long as they do not compete with the actual work and are not harmful.

In the Dutch legal system this competing is called ‘concurrentiemotief’, meaning you have the

motive to undermine the actual work and its market. Whether something is actually a parody


51

or caricature or is made with ulterior motives such as slander or plagiarism can be debated.

For instance, the Russian version of Harry Potter, Tanya Grotter, was banned in The

Netherlands, but considered by its publisher to be a parody. However, the books clearly

wanted to profit from Rowling’s success. In Russia many copies were sold and Tanya Grotter

gained wide popularity. In many other countries the books were feared to be too imitative and

competitive (Gerechtshof Amsterdam 6 november 2003, LJN AN7646).

Many problems arise because authors’ rights vary per legal system. Moreover, though

the law can deal with professionals to some degree, grassroots producers are left out. Now

that the internet has made the distribution of copyright material much easier, copyright law is

under fire. Aside from taking fresh looks at fair use, creative commons are becoming more

widespread: a form of licensing that stimulates an open idea of authorship and copyright

online and offline (official website, 2009). An author can choose to license his work based on

several guidelines that allow or forbid: attribution (quoting or taking parts of a work with

proper credit for the author); non-commercial derivatives (e.g., fanfiction) or ban derivative

works that are not published under the same license as the original. Note that is a sense a form

of licensing that does not change anything in the system itself.

What is also problematic is that a lot of amateur content online is becoming more

transcultural and should fall under international property law. However, when authors’ rights

in various countries differ, judging this becomes hard. Fan products may give us new insights

in authors’ rights, but also remind us how new and underdeveloped authorship, intellectual

property rights and even print culture as such are. As discussed previously the fairly recent

Romantic discourse of the author as an owner enabled this thinking. As authorship is opened

up by new electronic platforms, or deconstructed even, there is a necessity to redefine what

content belongs to whom. In fact, the very nature of creativity as a process of being inspired

by other texts is at stake here.

Legalities become a different issue when a writer wants to publish his fanfiction on the

market. Some authors may at some point consider a career as an actual writer with original

content, or may choose to publish their fiction. In some cases this is no problem, for instance,

one author published her fanfiction of the band TATU by altering the characters names

(Viires, 2005, p. 168). Others explicitly address their passion for fanfiction in their original

works, such as the Dutch author Karin Giphart. Also, many novelizations or American comics

are written or drawn by people that started of as amateurs in the fan circuit. Most fans who

will proceed to original, published content will continue to work in similar genres (Bacon-

Smith, 1992, pp. 37-38). Interestingly, Bacon-Smith reported in the nineties that ‘publishers

52

advise women who wish to be taken seriously as science fiction writers to separate themselves

from the fanzine community’. Some listened to that while others adopted new pseudonyms,

others refuted it and remained active in fandoms. Back then it was common to think that a fan

writer could not step up, though nowadays it seems more accepted and indeed, many consider

their writing a serious occupation.

Strangely this aversion against fanfiction authors does not correspond with highly

praised postmodern literature as well. Maguire’s Wicked, Coetzee’s Foe, Randall’s The Wind

Gone Done all rework classics and are highly recommended because of this. Of course a

difference here would be that much transformative literature is emancipative and critical,

while fanfiction is commonly attached to a source-text, selective and presupposes a lot of

knowledge. Still, other examples include pastiches written by famous authors. Perhaps these

authors are not judged in a similar fashion because they base themselves on literature rather

than media or games. Deriving literature from literature is an old practice and also assures

their status as authors remains unharmed, because their used source-texts are considered

valuable cultural heritage, worthy of referencing to.

Authorship thus implies not only authority, but also a legal and emotional sense of

ownership. This chapter we have seen the origins of authorship and its consequences for

creativity, how new technologies redefined these standards and more general suppositions

about reading and writing. In the next chapters the practice of making transformative texts and

its authorial implications will be examined in detail via a case-study.


53

Chapter 3

Transformative authorship: Reworking Tales of Symphonia

Can you imagine it? The many genres of fanfiction

As a genre fanfiction balances between original writing and existing content, which redefines

our concepts of authorship. In fanfiction amateur writers give pre-existing narratives an

original spin (see also, chapter 1). These stories give a fan the opportunity to participate in his

favourite story world and imagine for instance his own Sherlock Holmes mystery. The

category transformative works helps to describe these stories, a term which refers to fiction

that is derived from other texts and ‘transforms’ those. This implies that the derived fiction

partly does something original with the source-text and gives it a new interpretation. Crucial

here is that a work is not repetitive, since that qualifies as imitation but manages to redefine

the original by showing a different intent and value.

Transformative authorship depicts a reader that not only tries to make sense of the

content, but also writes his own text about it. Therefore it is partly reception and interpretation

and partly the construction of something new. In this chapter several aspects of transformative

authorship will be explored via fanfiction. To do this I first have to describe fanfiction

adequately in terms of genres, writing and the community this fan practice is a part of. After

that I shall go into the specific case-study of this thesis, Tales of Symphonia, originally a

videogame with a large group of fans. The casus will address various elements of

transformative authorship, for instance, the way fan writers tackle this source-text, personalize

it and reflect on their practices.

Fanfiction is as broad as popular culture itself. Writers often use a source-text in terms

of characters and settings, but the genre and plot can differ immensely from the original.

Diversity is a key feature of fanfiction, where everything is possible, which is also addressed

in the motto of FanFiction.net: ‘Unleash your imagination!’ A quick look at the categories of

FanFiction.net depicts everything from adventure, to comedy, to western. To structure the

huge amount of fan texts certain categories are used that are specifically inherent of fanfiction

(and other fan texts). These genres are: angst, hurt/comfort, slash, self-insertion, Mary Sue,

alternative universe and crossovers. These are actor’s terms and not all categories have their

own subsection at certain sites. For instance, FanFiction.net has a category for romance which

also includes gay romance (slash). These genres are therefore slightly ambiguous, but

important because the actors themselves use them frequently to define their fiction.

54

Firstly, angst refers to fanfiction in which a state of panic, anxiety or emotional

instability is depicted. It shows a kind of malaise that many teens or adolescents go through.

In modern literature the concept is sometimes used as well, for instance to describe the

content of Kafka’s work. Angst is therefore not only a category of fanfiction, but is explicitly

addressed as a genre amongst fans and a pop-cultural theme. A fanfic can cover several

genres, for instance, it can take angst as a starting point, but develop into a romantic narrative

later on which reliefs the stage of angst. The tragic elements angst enables and its extreme

inward experience can be appealing to many young writers. Some of these writers go through

similar states of mind in their daily life or have been through these, and angst fiction can be a

way to sublime this. Others might prefer it because it also provides a ground for characters to

rethink their life, choices and world view. Angst can also be a way to explore the emotional

sides of rational or masculine characters.

Indeed angst stories often overlap with Hurt/Comfort (H/C), which refers to fanfiction

in which one character is hurt mentally or physically, which requires another character to

attend to them. This is often a way of introducing an unravelling romance between two

characters, or another more intimate relationship. It can also be a way to bring together two

characters that avidly hate each other and befriend them. In science fiction fandoms this early

genre can be traced in many fanzines that contain stories in which for instance this ploy is

used to make Kirk and Spock bound. In actual popular culture hurt/comfort themes are also a

common device to explore character relationships though it is not a genre there as such.

Slash are stories featuring homosexual pairings, usually with characters that are

undefined or heterosexual in the source-text. Femmeslash refers to the lesbian variant of the

genre. Commonly this is based on homosocial subtext or pre-existing intimate, though non-

sexual, character relations. Those relationships can for instance be friendship (e.g.,

Harry/Ron; Sherlock/Watson; Xena/Gabriel); hostility (e.g., Harry/Draco; Clark Kent/Lex

Luthor); protective guardian relationships (e.g., Janeway/Seven of Nine; Batman/Robin).

Commonly a slash narrative focusing on the boy meets boy aspect of slash (or the realization

of queer feelings) leads to a certain built-up. Jenkins (1992, pp. 206-219) describes this quite

nicely referring to the phases in slash as: 1) Initial relationship, in which the protagonists are

semi-straight or had some gay experiences, but do not realize their attraction for each other

just yet. 2) Masculine dystopia, in which one of the protagonists realizes his feelings, leading

to a redefinition of self and sexuality. In some cases both characters become increasingly

aware of this sexual tension. 3) Confession, in which one of the protagonists spills out the


55

beans and comes out of the closet. 4) Masculine utopia, in which they indulge in a love affair.

This can also be the dawn of another dystopia when one character rejects the other.

Though this is a textbook example of slash, there are all kinds of variants possible.

Hurt/Comfort themes can for instance be a good way to get your slash narrative started. A

writer can also chose to specialize on sex with hardly any plot or built-up. This is referred to

as PWP, ‘porn without plot’ or ‘plot, what plot?’ When browsing through fanfiction that is not

categorized as romance but for instance as adventure, a reader soon comes across slash. It is

deeply embedded in fanfiction, sometimes to the frustration of those that prefer straight

romance. Indeed slash is, aside from a genre as Jenkins describes it, also a theme that is

interwoven in fan texts all over the world. Both the doujinshi scene in Japan and the fanzine

scene in America focused on queer relationships at roughly the same time in the seventies,

which leaves one wondering how these two cultures influenced each other (Kinsella, 1998).

Interestingly queer relationships are very dominant in Japanese pop-culture where many

professional mangas and animes are published that focus solely on this. Even in mainstream

Japanese products that do not focus on romance there are often gay characters and pairings.

When dealing with fan practices based on Japanese texts it should thus be noted that any

queer values stem not only from the fandom itself which features slash fiction, but also from

the source-texts themselves.

As a pop-cultural curiosity slash has drawn much attention to academics (notably

Jenkins, 1992; Bacon-Smith, 1992; Green, Jenkins, et al, 1998). Surprisingly most slash is

made by heterosexual women, which has led to a lot of debate about its subversive qualities,

the lack of homosexuality in dominant popular culture and the representation of male

characters in fiction. Specific discussions for instance question if slash is a female substitute

for porn or if pop-culture flaws in fulfilling certain needs such as a more emotional drawing

of male characters. As Jenkins writes: ‘Slash may represent the fullest articulation of this new

liberatory imagination, pointing to new directions in the construction of gender and the

representation of sexual desire’ (1992, p. 190).

Aside from these genres fanfiction also has a great deal of personalized stories, such as

the self-insertion, which refers to stories in which an author inserts him or herself in the story

world. Now in fiction this is not something extraordinary: The Wizard of Oz, Alice in

Wonderland, Pan’s Labyrinth, all these tales have a similar theme featuring a protagonist

from daily life that gets pulled into a fantasy world. In fanfiction the author-protagonist can

go to Hogwarts, Starfleet Academy or Oz whenever he wishes. In some self-insertions the

boundary between real life and the story world is negotiated while others only have the actual

56

story world as a setting. Self-insertions can also portray a more perfect, cute version of the

self, which can be seen as a subset of Mary Sue. This is commonly described as a wish-

fulfilment of the author in which a brilliant, daring version of the self visits the story world.

Both the character and the story then qualify as Mary Sue.

Mary Sue is not necessarily the author: she can also be an original character that is

constructed poorly with too perfect features. She can have very few parallels with the author

but still be a Sue because she has too much exaggerated qualities. Another variant of Mary

Sue is called canon-Sue by fans, referring to badly portrayed characters from the source-text.

The character becomes as perfect as Mary Sue in a story and his negative qualities are left out

of the picture. The genre Mary Sue is named after Paula Smith’s A Trekkie’s Tale (1974) in

which a bold female main character becomes officer of Star Fleet at ‘only fifteen and a half

years old’ and, after countless heroic deeds, dies tragically while the characters mourn the loss

of her ‘beautiful youth and youthful beauty, intelligence, capability and all around niceness’.

Her name was Mary Sue.

Like slash this genre has gained some attention from scholars as a deviant literary

phenomenon (Bacon-Smith, 1992, pp. 141-145; Pflieger, 1999; Scodari, 2003). Commonly

Mary Sue is seen as a subversive genre, either in terms of authorship (as being a blatant wish-

fulfilment) or of pop-culture (a strong female character). She gives a female tone to a

homosocial show and provides the female audience with someone they can identify with more

(for instance, Star Trek). She is also highly criticized by the community though. The point is

that Mary Sue, being the glorified superwoman she is, fails to provide the audience with a

good addition to a series. She is not a plausible character because she can do far too much,

which upsets readers, plus that in a common Mary Sue, the entire narrative revolves around

her. She is the kind of main protagonist that many readers object to because she diverts the

attention from the actual main characters you want to read about, those belonging to the

source-text.

Pat Pflieger (1999) describes Mary Sue as a distinctive female lead, a placeholder the

reader should be able to identify with. However, she fails in fulfilling this role: ‘Her very

obtrusiveness keeps readers from slipping into her place’. Mary Sues have been around for a

very long time in amateur fiction, as early as the nineteenth century these perfect female

characters could be traced in stories. Pflieger thinks this is a common phenomenon for young

writers, a kind of ‘security blanket’, the result of a fear or inability to engage with characters

sufficiently and recognize their flaws. This can also explain the high amount of canon-Sues,

where a writer describes a fan character as far too splendid. This fits the problems some fan


57

writers have when it comes down to imagining, for instance, a character of the other gender,

which leads to the effeminization of male characters. A writer needs to learn the fine art of

constructing a plausible character and interpreting established characters as such. In the

beginning Mary Sues might arise and often the writer is not aware of these. In a later phase,

when a writer is more developed, he or she might recognize her own Sue and at some point

choose to write an ironical fiction about her.1

That leaves two other distinctive genres, alternative universe (AU) and crossovers.

AU fanfiction retells the story differently, often posing a what-if question and continuing a

new narrative from there. Crucial here is not a speculation of what happens after or before a

series, but an alternative to the story line. For instance, what if Dumbledore did not die in

Harry Potter; what if Moriarty succeeded in killing Sherlock Holmes? An alternative universe

develops then as an alternative to the existing narrative. Pop-cultural examples include the

Star Trek movie (2009) which provides an alternative universe for The Original Series, or

movies as Sliding Doors in which a narrative and its alternative universe are both portrayed.

Lastly fanfiction features a lot of crossovers, a genre which entwines two series

creatively. Though the author juxtaposes this content with another series he may choose to

stay true to the series in respects of settings or characters. Examples include things like Luke

Skywalker attending Hogwarts, or Harry Potter getting trained in The Force rather than

magic. This can enable quite comical fiction, but can also lead to serious, inventive narratives

when two story worlds are entwined in a consistent way.

Fanfiction thus constantly hovers between a value that obligates one to stay true to the

original, and genres in which this is less important (e.g., crossovers and Mary Sue). In some

cases the canon information might be very important, for instance, in a story that wants to

give a side character’s perspective of the original. But what makes a good fanfiction? If the

genres and tastes are so broad, what are the criteria? That is where the fan community comes

in.

Be My Beta: Social and creative Skills

Fan communities are at first sight bounded by the texts they are based on. Around a certain

text groups are formed online and offline, which are usually described as the fandom.

Attentive consumers come together in those communities to discuss fiction and elaborate

upon it. When writing fanfiction a fan relies on the fan community as a main readers group.

1 In opposition to this writers of original fiction/comics have remarked to me in personal contact/interviews that the characters they construct resemble the pop-cultural characters they like.

58

As stated in chapter 1, these fan communities are scattered online across various platforms

and sites. Not all fans will read a certain fan text, since there are so many sites that host this.

An author often uploads his fiction at a more general site and will post links at more selective

communities that specifically pay tribute to one or two characters.

The fan community matters a great deal for fans, not just as a potential readers group

but as a group of likeminded individuals who relate to similar fiction. A fan-author should be

viewed as part of a community, someone with the need to connect to those who have similar

interests. The fans, both young and old, have needs that a fan community fulfils and that fan

practices are a part of. Online new friendships flourish when communicating about this fiction

on forums or blogs within a group. Teens and young adults find relationships in fan

communities that are different from their offline surroundings where they may have fewer or

no contacts that share their passion. Some may meet up occasionally with other fans at

conventions or with those that live remotely nearby, but for younger fans this is often not a

possibility in terms of money or parental approval.

At some points the fans may become close friends and the fandom itself far less

important. One of the benefits of the internet is the opportunity to meet up with people with

similar interest fast. Especially when virtual communities were quite new, these qualities for

socializing were highlighted by theorists (e.g., Barlow, 1995; Wellman, Gulia, 1997). For

fans a fandom, both online and offline, can become a safe haven, a place where you can be

accepted by others like you. As Rebecca Moore (2005) states: ‘Fanfiction is about filling

needs, and two of the greatest are those for connection and community’.

In fact, media consumption as such is a social process which viewers, not only fans

per se, relate to in conversations to find a common ground. Media scholar John Gray (2006)

describes that the media as such are crucial for communities in general. ‘Media talk today

plays a huge role in social situations, strengthening links and bonds between people who

already know each other, and providing common ground for strangers to share’ (p. 125). In

Reading Television (2003) Fiske also explains that television is participatory, a social

experience to talk about, similar to gossip (pp. 78-80). Indeed this ‘ritual function’ of media

has often been explored (e.g., Van Zoonen, 2005). It is also at the root of fan cultures. In

Textual Poachers Jenkins (1992) analyzes the discussions about texts within fandoms as a

kind of gossiping (pp. 50-85). The process exhibits a very strategic exchange of information

that binds the participants. Every new bit of information regarding the text (new episode,

sequel, new fan text) is discussed thoroughly. Similar to gossiping, fans are often highly


59

critical of a source-text, not just expressing the positive aspects of it, but also debunking it

where, in their respect, it flawed.

The downsides of these fan communities are that you need to invest time and energy

in keeping up with boards and the participants. Furthermore, there may be some quarrels

within a fan community about how to interpret certain canonical scenes or characters. If you

do things that are popular, like participating in a very large fandom or following the general

consensus about a text, you easily gain readers and a following. For those that participate in

niche fandoms or alternative tastes, getting an audience might be harder, and there is a good

chance you will be ignored or flamed. Furthermore, as in all creative practices those who are

more skilled will get more attention, though this is not necessarily always the case. Those that

participate a lot are also appreciated and this may result in positive criticism of their products.

Again, all of this is highly depended on the platform, the atmosphere within a community and

the communication of the individual fan, as will be exemplified in the case-study of this

chapter as well.

The fan community and its functioning are crucial to the flourishing of an amateur

writer’s skills. As Rebecca Moore rightly underlines: ‘The writer needs inspiration, story

elements, writing skills, and perhaps most important for amateur writers, an audience’ (2005,

p. 16). Fanfiction provides all of these things, not just narrative moulds to work with, but also

a potentially active audience that is interested in what you do and willing to take a look. An

amateur writer of original fiction may come across problems when trying to find an audience

online. When dealing with fan practices, however, the community is already there. The fans

are already acquainted with the source-text and willing to see how another fan text can

broaden their view of a story world and provide good entertainment. For writer having an

audience is a good motivation to keep writing and improve one’s skills and narrative based on

the opinion of readers. In fan communities the creative learning process takes place peer-to-

peer in a somewhat informal way (see also, Ito, 2008). The new fans get the ability to focus

on something small, an aspect of the source-text, and show that to a selected, comfortable

audience.

Fanfiction writers learn many things from the communities they participate in. In the

interviews I held with several authors, the focus was often on the benefits of language. It

should be taken into account here that my interviews were Dutch and started writing fiction in

English quite early because of the communities they participated in. In the beginning this led

to problems for some who did not master the language sufficiently, but in result their English

improved greatly from the feedback they got in the communities. Writing in Dutch was hardly

60

an option for them: some had explored Dutch fanfiction sites but were turned off by their

content or perceived it as awkward since they were so used to reading English content. When

going to fan conventions I often heard similar criticism to mangas translated in Dutch, which

is a fairly new phenomenon (until a few years ago you could count the mangas published in

Dutch on one hand). These fans are not only used to consuming fan texts in English, but also

the source-texts themselves. When giving my workshop on fanfiction at the Animecon 2009

this disregard of Dutch also became somewhat apparent. A good mastering of English within

fan communities was deemed very important.

Naturally native speakers also better their linguistic abilities and modes of expression

through writing. One of the interviewees, Suzanne Blanken, only writes in Dutch and hardly

publishes her fanfiction online. She chose to distribute it to friends only, though some of them

also circulated this content. She remarked that she learned a great deal on the level of

individual sentences and their construction, and that in general her later writings are more

readable. The same goes for those native English speakers in the communities that develop a

good feeling for prose and descriptions more and more throughout their fanfiction. Each

writer learns about grammar and style when he or she indulges in writing more and more.

Aside from linguistic benefits, a writer learns to focus on specific aspects of

storytelling through fanfiction, for instance structuring a plot or gaining a comfortable writing

style. The general narrative, settings and characters are already there. A fan can specifically

learn to interpret or speculate about a narrative and develop those abilities. Filling the gaps of

texts, restructuring them, speculating them and engaging closely with the story world provides

a very distinct way of consuming fiction. This can provide new insights in an existing text and

a mode of reading one can apply to other texts as well (see also Jenkins, 2008). Jenkins

describes this as a kind of informal learning via ‘affinity spaces’, a term coined by James Paul

Gee which supposes students engage more deeply with texts from popular culture that they

love. This is different from learning through formal ways such as non-fictional text books to

which a student may relate less. Other than the interpretation of texts (and close-reading), a

more general ability a fan-author learns is a way to connect with texts on an emotional level.

For some the benefits may have to do with the construction of fictional characters.

General fallacies for beginners include awkward portrayals of existing characters or

inconsistencies in their personalities. As one fanfiction reader at the workshop admitted: ‘I

hate it when characters pull a full reversal in plots’. He thereby referred to stories in which at

some point - without valid reason - the characters start to behave quite differently. Other

writers referred to the effeminization of existing characters, or a dislike of either too


61

emotional portrayals of characters (turning them into drama queens) or too perfect and tragic

(making a Mary Sue out of existing characters). Others rejected fanfiction in which

androgynous characters (either psychological or racial when dealing with science fiction or

fantasy) were confined into one gender in terms of behaviour or appearance. At the workshop

and in interviews writers agreed that fanfiction, in terms of reading and writing, gives you

insights in what it means to stay true to existing characters. Of course at some points it suits a

fan story better if the character’s personality is deconstructed. Indeed, when spoofing

characters it becomes fairly impossible to portray them accurately.

That is not to say that there are no margins in fanfiction and other texts when it comes

down to interpreting characters. Though in fan communities there is a general consensus, in

detail one has quite some liberty. Therefore it is only obvious ‘out of characterness’ that is

viewed as undesirable when one wants to grow in fanfiction. Jenkins has also described this

as ‘emotional realism’ in Textual Poachers (1992, notably pp. 110-113). Emotional realism

refers to the fans’ desires to see adequate, credible and consistent character portrayals they

can relate to. This is not only the case in fanfiction, but also in source-texts were characters

may start to behave differently or the plot becomes less plausible. Ergo, fiction needs to be

plausible (depending on the genre plausibility differs), consistent and have a certain merit.

Despite the fans’ emphasis on canon, I also want to emphasize that in practice a full

understanding of the source-text might not be all that important. Though fans hammer on the

canon or established information when making aesthetic judgments, there are also enough fan

writers who only consumed the source-text to a limited degree. For instance, through fiction

that is already a derivative text of the source-text (e.g., an adaptation), fan texts (e.g., fanfics

and meta-discussions) or parts of the source-text (e.g., when the fan is still playing the game).

When interviewing and doing ethnography I also came across fans that were not familiar with

the source-text or only to a limited degree, but did participate in the fandoms surrounding it.

They enrolled in the communities via other fan practices rather than the actual text. For

instance, interviewee Mellissa van den Hoogen writes fiction about source-texts she has not

finished entirely (e.g., Kim Possible) and reads fanfiction of series she has not seen (e.g., My

Otome). Iris Maassen had similar experiences. We should therefore take into account that the

source-text is not necessarily the start of fan practices. Fans may be introduced to new

fandoms via the fanfiction of their favourite authors, or choose to explore the fanon first to see

if the actual text is worthwhile.

Of course the trials and errors of others are equally important when developing one’s

writing skills. Specifically writing more in-depth reviews or beta-reading is a way to learn that

62

(e.g., Jenkins, 2006b, p. 177-185). When providing feedback to others a writer learns about

his own skills. Naturally it also takes some time to learn how to give constructive criticism

properly and some may pay more attention to characters and plots, while others will focus on

things like grammar. In general it therefore pays off, just like in more academic worlds, to

have several peer reviewers. As interviewee Iris Maassen also underlined, the editing that one

learns in fanfiction can be a quality when competing at the actual job market as well. Her

experiences as a beta-reader were part of the reason why she got a job as an editor, rather than

her background, which is in chemistry.

Aside from getting jobs as actual writers and editors, fanfiction as a hobby can also

give one recognition within communities and a certain prestige. As Camille Bacon-Smith

wrote (1992, p. 159) regarding fanzines: ‘Women who have low prestige jobs or who are

homemakers can gain national and even international recognition as fan writers and artists;

fan publishing constitutes alternative sources of status, unacknowledged by the dominant

social and economic systems but personally rewarding nevertheless.’ The internet now gives

amateur writers the chance to feel secure in a creative field and develop skills to master it

even more. Though at first it may feel frightening and some may get negative criticism, in

general there is an opportunity for fans to learn in a positive environment. Even if a young

writer commits something that is considered not done, there are usually considerate other fans

who went through similar experiences and help out. Though some fans may shun newbies,

others are willing to comment with positive as well as negative notes.

Finally, what all writers experimenting in fanfiction might learn is whether they like

writing at all. Indeed, some may still not get the hang of it after several fanfics or may need to

invest too much time in it. Eventually what counts is creativity and some may achieve this

better through another medium. Fans may learn from fanfiction that writing might not be their

cup of tea after all and that they are for instance more visually oriented. That is not a problem

either. Fanfiction cannot be grasped in terms of making money out of it or other tangible

benefits; it is referred to as a ‘labour of love’ and is exactly that. A writer can gain many

things out of this, from sharing his passion for a product, to increasing his skills. Most of my

interviewees however remarked fanfiction is also something they have to do, because the

source-text inspires them immensely and they want to express that feeling. Fanfiction cannot

be grasped in terms of ‘getting’ something; it is all about investing and giving.


63

Play it your way: Tales of Symphonia

As a case-study to explore fanfiction, I chose Tales of Symphonia, a renowned Japanese

videogame. It features 4.830 fictions (May 8, 2009) at FanFiction.net, which makes it one of

the most popular games to write about, topped only by a few Final Fantasy games and Zelda

(unlike the Tales and Final Fantasy series categorized as one subsection). Tales of Symphonia

is a Japanese role-playing game (RPG) released for the Nintendo Gamecube (Japan: August,

2003, European version: November, 2004) and Playstation 2 (Japan only: September, 2004).

It is the fifth game out of a longer series of Tales games, most of which are self-contained

universes rather than one connected story world. In that sense the series can be compared to

other popular Japanese RPG series such as Final Fantasy, which develop a new story world

for each game. Tales of Symphonia forms a very distant prequel to the earlier released Tales of

Phantasia, but the overlap in settings/characters is very limited. Recently a sequel to the game

was released, Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World (Japan: June, 2008; American

version: November 2008).

Since 1995 Namco has been producing these games. The Tales series now spans

twelve flagship titles (main titles in a series) and fifteen escort titles (spin-offs, essentially side

stories to the main series). These escorts include crossover games that combine

characters/settings from various games, such as Tales of the World; puzzle games that provide

additional background content and sequels such as Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New

World. Interestingly Namco does perceive the sequel to Tales of Destiny as a mothership title,

which makes the line between spin-off and mothership slightly unclear, arguably it has to do

with the same team being on the sequel (which was not the case in Dawn of the New World).

Role-playing games as Tales of Symphonia are based on older traditional role-playing

games such as Dungeons and Dragons that are played in real-life. Features of computer-based

role-playing games commonly include combat to increase the skills of your protagonists

(often described as levelling), dungeons/puzzle elements, large settings and an emphasis on

the storyline rather than on skills in terms of game play. An RPG usually contains a large

inventory of items that enlarge your capabilities or unlock certain elements of the game, other

than that you often have various skills varying from attack power to magic or speed. The

narrative of an RPG can best be described in terms of a quest. The plot asks you to resolve a

certain problem in the world, which you can achieve by traversing the settings and gaining

experience/items.

The highly narrative elements and the fantasy story world draw a specific kind of

gamer to these RPG’s. The genre commonly includes dramatic elements and plot twists to

64

surprise the gamer. The plot itself and gaming can be described as very linear and fixed, a

story that you can enable by travelling around the world and interacting to make certain

actions/scenes possible. Some RPG’s give alternate story lines though. You can for instance

choose a certain love interest by interacting with the other characters in a certain manner.

Similar options are included in Final Fantasy VII or other Tales games. Other RPG’s are

renowned for their multiple endings like the sequel to Tales of Symphonia or Chrono Trigger.

Tales of Symphonia can be played with one or several gamers that control the

characters. It is not like an online role-playing game but far more traditional: you can give one

of the console’s controllers to a second player to help you during a battle, but outside the

combat you will only see the lead of your party (team of characters) that the main player can

navigate through the world. Specifically Tales of Symphonia also features skits, small

conversations between the characters that pop-up as thumbnails, dialogues that you can

activate if you wish to read them (or hear them if you play the Japanese version, the English

dub is not voiced). The skits provide the gamer with background content as the characters go

into witty discussions about the plot or random things as food.

The game begins in Sylvarant, a world that is degenerating because the energy source

that sustains it, mana, is becoming scarce. A young girl, Colette Brunel, is raised as a

‘Chosen’ that should regenerate the world by travelling to the Tower of Salvation and

releasing various seals. On this journey the Chosen becomes less human and more like an

angelic vessel to carry the spirit of the Goddess, which also means she has to give up on

emotions. On her quest Colette is aided by her best friend, Lloyd Irving; the young half-elf

Genis; his older sister and their teacher Raine and a mysterious mercenary named Kratos. The

characters also traverse to another parallel world, Tethe’alla, a world that has its own chosen

one. Each time one of the worlds changes the mana flow and gets more mana, the other world

is left barren. In the end it becomes a difficult task to save both worlds, especially when it

turns out the church and the desians (a shady military organisation) are wrapped up in this. At

the heart of the matter is an organisation of angels, the Cruxis, ran by Mithos Yggdrasill, the

main villain. Throughout the story the game touches upon heavy themes as corrupt religious

movements, racism, psychological issues and mass murder. Though appearing light in the

beginning and in style, it incorporates some subversive content tastefully. This kind of

storytelling is not uncommon in Japanese popular culture.

Though the game is Japanese, the plot and environments are staged in a highly

Western fantasy environment that represents elements of Japanese culture itself as foreign and

different (notably the only Asian inspired village in the game, Mizuho, stands out). This


65

Westernized point of view can be associated with the content of the game that fits our

mythology, tradition of role-playing and tropes in fantasy fiction. In fact these values may

also account for the game’s popularity in America and Europe. It should be noted here that in

general Japanese pop-culture is highly inspired by Western fiction and folklore and integrates

this in its narratives (Ito, 2003; Hills, 2002b). Tales of Symphonia as such leans heavily on

Norse fiction from the Edda. Mythological places of those books are used and themes such as

the tree of life (Ygdrasill), here a key motive tied to the main villain of the game. Indeed the

references to the Edda can be traced in terms of plot as well. Other intertexts include biblical

motives (the angels, the fallen) and Arabian mythology for the summon spirits. These myths

are addressed very self-consciously, which is exemplified by for instance Mithos Ygdrasill’s

first name and the explicit stating of a ‘journey of the chosen one’ as a quest model.

With its two worlds, diverse cities and side characters, Tales of Symphonia forms a

very large universe. The source-text is dispersed across various platforms, which befits our

idea of transmedia storytelling as a practice for narration and new strategy of corporations. As

Jenkins also describes (2006b, p. 110) in Japan it is far more common to narrate a story

throughout various media, spin-off’s and additional merchandise. When we look at Tales of

Symphonia, this practice can be retraced and made an even larger fan base possible

throughout the years. For starters, in 2006 an OVA (animated adaptation) of the game was

made which also drew mainstream anime viewers that would not normally purchase the game.

The OVA had four episodes and is commonly perceived by the die-hard fans as questionable

in terms of quality. It rushes through the story and yet manages to add a lot of unnecessary

scenes. Most fans of the game argue on top of that many of the characters (notably Lloyd) are

portrayed wrongly when compared to the game (see Namco Board for discussions). A new

OVA has been announced in 2008 and is still in production. The adaptation of the manga

(comic) of Tales of Symphonia is considered to be better but hard to get by for Western

viewers. Whereas most would download the anime or import the DVD, the manga can only be

imported and a foreigner will not easily make sense of the language. However, online some

fan translations and scans can be found to become familiar with it. On top of that there is a

range of gashapons (small action figures you put together yourself); trading cards; figurines

and other fan merchandise of the series.

Aside from the franchise Namco itself actively tries to provide loyal fans of the series

with more content. The game itself has been released on the Playstation 2 in Japan with new

background information, costumes and content. Tales of Symphonia is very loosely attached

to Tales of Phantasia which stimulates fans to talk about the story world and the gap between

66

the two games. Namco also triggers fan activity with titles loosely attached to these main

games. Tales of Fandom, a spin-off series of various puzzle games, provides new information

and mini-games/quests. Notably the name, Tales of Fandom, describes enough of Namco’s

PR strategy that self-consciously stimulates the fandom. In Tales of the World the gamer can

also play with Symphonia characters again. Most of these spin-off games are not released in

America or Europe; however, many loyal fans are familiar with the content by reviews of

other fans. Some may even play the Japanese versions (e.g., two of my interviewees and

several of the fanfiction authors I spotted online). Their lack of Japanese thus does not

interfere with their commitment to the series and the wish to experience it themselves.

The sequel to the game is a fully different matter when discussing transmediality here.

Unlike the original the sequel is not that accepted by most fans and indeed, by the company

perceived as a separate escort title. Even at sites as fanfiction.net or LiveJournal, Dawn of the

New World has a separate section to exclude the fiction of this game with its predecessor. At

first I thought this was related to spoilers since the release of Dawn of the New World in

America was very late. However, stories related to the game are still hosted separately and I

suspect this will remain so. The sequel features the story of Emil, a young boy, whose parents

get killed by previous main character Lloyd. What follows is a game in which Emil tries to

track down Lloyd. At the background the political tension between Sylvarant and Tethe’alla

increases, while a new entity disturbs the magical balance between the two worlds again.

The game, which is written and produced by a different staff, strongly redefines the

canon of Tales of Symphonia by including a new God, new characters and badly portraying

the old ones. Criticism by game magazines was rather mixed, often praising the battle system

and dishing the graphics and plot. The fan base is overall negative about the game, though

some tend to like aspects of it, like the reappearance of the old cast and new character Richter

Abend gains quite some attention. Some jokingly compare it to bad fanfiction. Though other

content such as the OVA can be considered disappointing, it at least did not redefine the story

world. Interestingly when looking at boards and fanfiction, it appears that most fans also

perceive the games as two separate universes. The in-depth use of the previous game in Dawn

of the New World fan fiction is limited, while writers of general Tales of Symphonia fiction

often stay in the universe of the first game. Though there could have been possibilities for

bridging the two games, also because there are a few years in-between, the need to fill this

gap is apparently limited. Rather fan-authors tend to focus on providing background for Emil

or other characters by elaborating upon elements of the sequel itself that are left unexplained.


67

Lost in translation

Importantly the fact that this source-product is Japanese affects the fans and is thus

characteristic for this research. As briefly touched upon in chapter 1, the study of the

appropriation of Japanese material by Western fans is rather limited and often includes

projects by fan scholars that focus on all kinds of material, such as Henry Jenkins and Matt

Hills. In fact, more attention has been paid to other foreign material, such as British series that

are transferred to America. Still, the in-depth studies on these matters are limited and often

produce a rather one-sided image of the consumer as one that is indulged with foreign or

deviant content. This leads researchers to believe that the fan tries to construct a specific

identity linked to his exclusive taste (Hills, 2002b).

However, Western popular culture has been infused with Japanese popular culture a

lot the last years, creating a more mainstream image of this type of fiction. In the eighties it

was still a niche for certain older consumers that imported these products (Kinsella, 1998;

Jenkins, 1992). Nowadays animes are being broadcasted in Europe and America and mangas

are sold in many countries at newspaper stands or ordinary bookstores. It has become a more

accepted form of entertainment, though the demography of the fans has definitely shifted to a

younger audience. Being a fan of Japanese pop-culture may still give the fan a rather

alternative, subcultural identity in certain groups or countries, but in general these Japanese

media are spreading widely and rapidly.

Internet made Japanese popular culture more accessible for consumers all over the

world. As Henry Jenkins explains (2006b) in his essay on The Matrix (pp. 93-130) this

circulation is determined by corporate convergences and grassroots activities of fan

communities and immigrants. There are three economic stakes or levels, when it comes down

to introducing this foreign content: a national and international level (for a country a certain

product might be a source of national pride, while it might not be suitable for an international

market); multinational corporations that track down suitable content and transfer it to other

markets; niche distributors and consumers (e.g., cult fans) that look for very specific things.

The adaptation of this content is another matter. Usually something gets lost in translation

when the content is made suitable for, for instance, an American market. In some cases the

translation may lead to a new product all together. This is frequently the case with Japanese

cartoon being adapted for a Western children’s audience where the censorship is stricter. The

voice dubs can afflict the original content so thoroughly to suit a new target group that there is

hardly anything left of the original dialogues and plot.

68

Aside from making these translations acceptable for a different market in terms of

dialogue/censorship, the appropriation of this content often includes Westernizing it. For

instance, in Pokémon rice balls are portrayed as doughnuts (see also Jenkins, 2006a, pp. 152-

172). This should make Western viewers feel more familiar with the content, though any child

would see the difference between an animated rice ball and a donut. In some cases a

corporation may choose to release entirely localized versions. These versions are transcultural

in the truest sense of the word in that they place something of one culture into another

entirely. In Convergence Culture Jenkins (2006b, p. 110) describes this process with the

examples of Asian Spiderman as a ninja or the Chinese version of Batman, released

respectively by Marvel and DC themselves. Something can also be localized in fan

practices/creativity for instance via fan practices (id., p. 115). We will see that many fan-

authors localize a series and make it more personal, familiar or witty by introducing the cast

to their own setting: their country, culture or subculture.

The voices of characters have to be taken into account too, when dealing with these

kinds of products. In some cases a dub can be very interesting at local level because it features

celebrities or famous voice actors. This adds another layer to a seemingly fictional character

because you start to compare it with the celebrity, his career or other voices he or she has

portrayed. This is particularly interesting when one analyzes localized versions of Disney

dubs that choose a voice actor very carefully, not just in terms of voice but also in terms of

status and attitude similar to the American one. A whole process and creative endeavour has

to be taken into account here that is sometimes overlooked when dealing with translations.

Indeed, when analyzing Tales of Symphonia I also saw entire discourses related to the voice

cast. Notably when the English dub of the sequel was introduced, these discussions became

apparent. The sequel features an entirely new voice-cast which is depicted as qualitatively bad

when compared to the original. Fans felt this violated the characters and the game’s universe

as such. Despite that these voices are not the original ones, the Western audience cared about

them a great deal. A likeable English voice was also taken in account for fans when investing

in a character and they felt the new voice-actors damaged the image of the cast.

Another question then would be how important it is that this source-product is

Japanese. As has been mentioned, Tales of Symphonia is a multinational product, meaning

that it incorporates bits and pieces of all kinds of cultures; a similar example would be The

Matrix (Jenkins, id.; Newitz, 1994). The dub as such can be seen as transcultural because it

has been adapted and gained a particular Western scent. Though not many changes were made

in the content, some dialogues and names were altered. One may wonder if the Japanese


69

elements are crucial to a fan’s liking of the game. Indeed Hills (2002b, p. 7) supposes this

varies and that ‘“Japaneseness” has to be assumed to correspond to a limited set of signifiers

such that analysts can recognise these signifiers at work, or so that fan-respondents can judge

whether “Japaneseness” is relevant to them.’ Nationality and internationality here play at a

different level than just liking something because it is American popular culture or Japanese.

Indeed the very introduction of this content in Western countries already ‘westernizes’ it.

Rather fans will talk about taking a liking in certain fictional conventions that are

Japanese or they may compare the Tales franchise to other Japanese RPG’s or animes. There

may be some Japanese features that fans may like about Tales of Symphonia, for instance the

designs or game play, though other fans may like other features that are like the narrative. For

some this may even have been the first introduction to Japanese content, for others the game

may hold a special place as a first RPG. Researching fan cultures means taking this personal,

individual relation to a text into account. It also means that you keep an open eye out when

analyzing these practices. After all, though the product may have a transcultural dimension,

the fan can localize it to some degree and will interpret a source-text from his own cultural

background.

Tales of Symphonia at FanFiction.net

From 16 February to 1 April, 2009 I analyzed the updated fanfiction of Tales of Symphonia

and the given feedback. FanFiction.net is the largest host for fanfiction at the moment which

allows a user to upload stories in document form or write them on spot in a text box. The

system features reviews per chapter, favourites and a generic author profile. Private contact

with other members can be through e-mails or private messages. For those that wish to share

their story there is the option to create or join a community, plus a forum-option for users that

want to have informal discussions. Both of these features seem not well-used when checking

FanFiction.net. Tales of Symphonia has a lot of forums (60) when compared to other games

and series, but most of these are inactive and involved only one or a few topics with short

discussions. A few communities such as the ‘pairings’ community have been actively used for

a while though, but mostly to discuss selective aspects of the source-text.

When the fiction had many reviews I checked the first 100 comments. I also paid

attention to author’s profiles and favourites to see what fandoms they were involved in and

how they fashioned their writing activities. I did not read the fiction itself thoroughly since

that was not the aim of this research, though I did explore the content in a more general way.

Thereby I tried not to be distracted by the quality of the fiction, since many of these authors

70

are still in the process of learning to write. I checked the author’s notes that some writers post

in the beginning of their fiction which often include statements by the writer regarding the

fiction or fandom itself. For this research I also analyzed the disclaimers in which a fanfiction

writer states there he does not own the property, though not all authors chose to use these.

Ergo, the practices surrounding the fiction and the responses to it were the key issue here.

Based on their profiles the authors were in general in their mid-teens to late twenties.

Deducing the gender of the authors was sometimes hard since FanFiction.net depicts

nationality but has no specific gender category. Some authors state it in their profile in the

sections that can fill in themselves. The writers I could retrace were largely females, though.

The nationality of the authors was very diverse, though this did not seem to influence the

content other than in linguistic terms. However, mind that a lot of native speakers did not ace

their grammar either. When dealing with amateur fiction or starting writers this is an evident

problem. The analysis of this case-study emphasizes various aspects of fanfiction in relation

to authorship by depicting: firstly, this fiction written in this fandom in terms of content; then

the kind of feedback the writers give each other; thirdly the self-conscious elements in these

writing practices and lastly, the construction of a specific identity as a fan-author.

Let me first give an impression of the kind of fanfiction I spotted when spending time

at FanFiction.net and try to give an overview of the fiction. In the Tales of Symphonia fandom

all genres can be found, though the explicit content seems rare. It may be that FanFiction.net

is not the best place to host this or that this is dealt with less in this particular fandom.

Nonetheless there is a range of slash fiction hosted here. Other than that comedy and

crossovers seem quite popular. The most popular, strikingly, are self-insertion stories in which

Mary Sues or original characters are embedded in the existing story world. In fact, these are

very dominant, perhaps because as a game and large fantasy setting Tales of Symphonia

allows the integration of such new characters easily. The quantity of these fics is very high,

that is to say, I came across a few of those a day whereas this was not the case with other

genres. I should however note here that this type of fanfiction usually contains many chapters,

as long-term writing projects for beginners, which also explains why they are updated so

frequently. Not counting the updates of already published fanfiction a large part of the stories

belonged to these categories.

Much to my surprise there are few examples of authors that rewrite the game from an

alternative perspective. In general the source-text focuses on hero Lloyd which leaves

openings for those that want to explore a different point of view. Some writers adopted a new

perspective, but frequently this was not an in-game perspective. Most fiction with an


71

alternative perspective dealt with the game’s implicit background and history rather than its

main plot. For instance, prequel to the game there had been a war (The Great Kharlan War)

and though this is not elaborated upon in the source-text that much, some writers explore this

concept with an original character or those in the game that had lived through these unfaithful

events (e.g., Key_to_Soul, 2009; Joshuaorrizonte, 2007; Dark-Fire27, 2009). Others choose to

explore the history of characters the game hints at. Notably main-character Kratos appears to

be a favourite there. He had lost his wife previous to the game and many elaborate on her

tragic death (e.g., Shaddowind, 2005; Kratos the 9th Companion, 2009). This is usually

narrated by Kratos though some fiction adopts other perspectives or several of witnesses,

friends or those that murdered her (e.g., E. an E’ Kaleidoscope, 2009).

Other fanfiction belongs to the alternative universe stories and many of these involve a

reworking of the chosen one’s journey. The quest structure of the game is here rewritten with

different protagonists or a less successful conclusion. For instance in Raenef the 6th’s Tales of

Symphonia: Second Chance (2007) the journey is severely messed up by hero Lloyd. In other

fanfics Collette is not the chosen one, which leads to a different resolution or a few of the

main characters refuse to join in on the quest. In alternative universe fiction it also appears to

be a popular theme to create a different portrayal of Lloyd, which is called Crulloyd by some.

These stories depict the main character and hero, Lloyd, as a villain belonging to the angelic

organisation Cruxis and made him into an antagonist rather than the main protagonist (e.g.,

NiGHTChild68, 2008). This moral realignment as Jenkins would call it (1992) seems quite

popular and perhaps with due right: Lloyd could have easily been a villain - had he not been

fostered - since his birthfather is one. Other stories focus on alternatives to Lloyd’s fostering

but less on what the moral outcome of that would be (e.g., E. an' E. Kaleidoscope, 2009).

Fans apparently love working with this fact, though other forms of moral realignment (e.g.,

villains switching sides) seem much rarer.

The crossovers and references I spotted usually drew on the Western fantasy pop-

culture (e.g., multiple fics referring to The Lord of the Rings) or Japanese pop-culture (e.g.,

Pokémon, .Hack/Sign, Naruto). From this we can deduce that fans often try to base a

reference on a playful similarity. This can either be in-story commonalities like the quest,

culture of elves or world of The Lord of The Rings as similar to Tales of Symphonia, or the

comparison with another Japanese product which is seen as belonging to a similar genre for

Western writers. Other references and crossovers involved general pop-culture such as Star

Wars or even, based on short browsing through fiction, internet memes. Specifically comedy

series are also quoted or spoofed a lot. For instance I read a complaint by Aion_13 (5 May,

72

2009) in a review (Nightfoot, 2008) that he had counted seven Seinfeld references in various

Tales of Symphonia fanfics already. However, references to high-art were not uncommon

either. Some writers integrated content from the Edda, building on the mythological aspects

of Tales of Symphonia. For instance, ItachiTheDekuScrub’s A Midnight’s Hell (2009) embeds

the Norwegian Gods Thor, Fenrir and Odin as new protagonists while Raenef the 6th’s story

(2007) draws comparisons with Greece and Roman mythology. One of the more successful

Symphonia fanfics by Twilight Scribe (2006) also features a lengthy imitation of

Shakespearian language which should depict an old language of the story world itself.

What seems striking is that the self-insertions and original character fictions are

peeking in the Tales of Symphonia fandom while these are actually the genres that were

criticized most in interviews, at the workshop and online. When analyzing the readers of these

fanfics online it turns out quite many write similar fiction, which could explain why their

interest since they form a kind of sub community then. By reading and reviewing similar

fiction these authors hope to find likeminded individuals and perhaps draw the right audience

to their own fiction. Since the uploaded Tales of Symphonia fanfiction covers quite a few

stories a day, it is only natural that fans do not read all stories or genres.

Though I presumed at first that Tales of Symphonia might pose certain problems in

terms of transmediality this was less the case than I expected. Apparently because the game is

the main source-text and since the other products are somewhat harder to get by, most authors

base themselves on that. The blending with the second game is very little and in the section of

the sequel it works the other way around. Some of the fanfics base themselves on other parts

of the canon, such as the manga or anime (e.g., Freakyanimegal, 2009; Arisu Tsuranu, 2009).

Most fanfiction explicitly states this, though some stories appear to be more anime-centered at

first glance without any mentioning. Others post fiction based on the spin-off games as Tales

of the World in the Symphonia category, since these texts have no section of their own. This

causes some problems like accidental spoilers or the assumption of authors that we know this

fiction takes place in the spin-off game and thus features different characters too.

In one fanfiction the characters of the game enter our world and even make an explicit

point of the conflicts between Symphonia’s various source-texts and the discrepancy between

those. The characters decide to do some proper research on their fictional lives (VanNeon,

2009). This fanfiction stages a self-conscious story as will be addressed later this chapter.

When a story exists in multiple versions, a plot line that addresses the fiction itself becomes

more problematic: ‘Lloyd, Kratos, and Tenebrae decided to ask around as to which (the

anime, the manga, or the video game) was closest to what actually happened by asking die-


73

hard fans for short summaries. After it was discovered that the video game was the closest to

truth, Lloyd and Tenebrae (sic) went shopping for four GameCubes (sic) and four copies of

Tales of Symphonia. Upon seeing that they were characters from a video game, the person

working the check-out counter gave them everything for free’.

Feedback from fellow-fans

Many of the longer stories at FanFiction.net draw a specific reader group that checks for

updates at regular basis or uses the alert system, which sends a mail each time a story is

updated. Longer stories usually gain a following with frequent reviewers that give feedback

on each new chapter, which assures that the fanfics that are a bit popular easily get a hundred

reviews or more. The comments that are written by the same readers frequently discuss new

plot moves or just an opinion about where the story is heading. For instance, the 77 chapter

long fic by Whatsername427 (2007) has as one of its first comments (Kamon Peach Fox, 2

June 2009): ‘I kind of expected Joseph's father to be like that. […] If he sent Michelle to

SylvarantTethe'allaWhatev does that mean he thinks she'll find out about it FOR him?! O...

The imagination reels...’ A longer fanfic easily gets a kind of suspense quality in which the

audience is craving for more, something that shorter fanfiction lacks. No matter how good a

one-shot might be, it draws fewer reviews. In fact, the best fanfic in terms of quality that I

read, Ripple Effect (E. an' E. Kaleidoscope, 2009) had hardly any reviews. Because the story

is one long chapter and not updated so far, it draws little attention and because it is semi-

finished, it is unnecessary to discuss the plot in detail. However, this is a co-authorship profile

of two authors that already have existing, active accounts. With this secondary profile they

make less use of the features FanFiction.net offer, which also leads to less readers.

Aside from plot and expectations, it is not uncommon for reviewers to go into author’s

notes or informal content. For instance, some authors may remark they had trouble writing the

chapter, state they are having exams at the moment or ask readers to support them when they

participate in a fan contest. Reviewers gladly reply to this which again emphasizes that this is

not just a formal community, but a community of likeminded individuals. Aside from writer’s

blocks and personal matters, author’s notes may address specific elements of the game, which

then triggers a discussion with the reviewers. Sometimes reviewers refer to parts of the game

out of their own because the story reminds of that. Note for instance this comment (29 May

2009) by Akira Shinji (Nightfoot, 2008): ‘By the way, what is a "Devil's Arm"? From the

sound of it, it must be like a...Ultima Weapon kind of thing. Although I've never heard of that

74

sidequest’. The discussion of a fanfic is then steered to a general discussion about the source-

text.

Some reviewers focus on language, though not that many. In general this is also what

the beta-reading system is for, perhaps, which may go from peer-to-peer via mail or private

messages rather than via open reviews. Nonetheless, some readers jot down the mistakes they

find in a text. Most of them however concentrate on the plot movement or character portrayals

or make very generic comments. I suspected to find more comments on language before I

started my research, so this struck me as odd to some degree. Writing styles themselves

sometimes form a criteria, especially when they are passable to good, rather than when they

are bad. When writing styles are not that good – for instance because they are unclear, lack

descriptions or read incoherent – the attention usually goes to other aspects of the texts that

flaw, such as grammar or individual sentences. I found some constructive reviews on styles,

though most of them referred to style only generically. One of the more substantial reviews

was on Tiger002 (2009) by She Who Dances Under The Moon (20 January 2009), partly

quoted here: ‘As you might have noticed, you have a slight problem of redundancy. Using the

same set of words to describe something for a handful of phrases is alright, but you gotta try

to find ways to diversify your writing, or else it starts striking to the reader's eye out like a

sore thumb and they can't focus on the story anymore. I know it gets very hard to always think

of new synonyms and ways of phrasing when we write, but it ensures the reader doesn't get

bored and it also sounds more researched, less ...kiddish’.

One of the more important criteria to judge a fanfic seems to be its portrayal of

existing/original characters. When a fanfiction portrays the existing cast poorly this is

addressed by many reviewers. One of the most acclaimed Tales of Symphonia fanfics I came

across by Freakyanimegal (2007) Tasks of Spirit, has 849 comments (at 19 February 2007)

and a large reader’s traffic. It is the sequel to a large other fanfic she wrote, Grandkid (2005).

The reviews mingle from sheer dislike to absolute praise over the length of the story and

writing style. Several reviews complain about the original characters and the representation of

the Tales characters (e.g., Onihime 942, 26 January 2009): ‘It seems like you've morphed

every canon character into an OC. The person you've abused the most is Kratos. Yes, we all

love the stoic mercenary who really needs a hug, but, that doesn't mean you have to change

every aspect of his character to suit your story. […] Yes, this story is supposed to be

humorous, but it really isn't that funny when all of your characters act so childish and OOC.

Your OCs are also quite Mary Sue/Gary Stue-ish. They outshine the real characters of ToS,

prob'ly because you made so many that you're having trouble juggling all of them.’


75

Indeed the comparison between an original character and a Mary Sue is one of the

most read criticisms on any story featuring new protagonists. Where an author here tries to

add something original and personalize the story world a bit more, there is a danger that the

story looses the spirit of the source-text. Some authors try to avoid getting such critique by

stating in the beginning of the story that their original characters are definitely not meant to be

Mary Sues (or an implicit self-insertion) in any way. Those that do have this aim also

explicitly state they are for instance writing a self-insert which they may mention in the title

ironically as well (e.g., Tales of Yet Another Self-insert). However, Mary Sue is a bit more

difficult since there are relatively few parody-Sues or explicit Sues in the Tales community.

Unlike the popular self-inserts these are not a trend here, but viewed as a negative thing or

even a taboo. It should be noted that this might not be the case in all fandoms. Until I was

observing this community I never guessed that the much criticized genre of self-insertions

could be so well-read.

It seems that those fans that write self-inserts frequently play with the geeky

fanboy/fangirl aspects of their personality rather than using the exaggerations common to

Mary Sue. The main taboo in the Tales community seems to be writing a Mary Sue without

realizing that. This leads to quite some criticism of fiction that has Mary Sue themes. As

Kinuka (2009, 28 February) comments on Task of Spirits (2007): ‘From how you write her

out in Grandkid/Tasks of Spirit, she is not just "based" on you. She IS you, living out your

fantasies for you, like your other main OC’s’. Not all readers tend to dislike original

characters with dubious qualities. Many readers of this fanfic tended to like the original

characters, but little can be deduced from the small reviews as to why that is. A more

interesting comment is given by ImperialGuardian09 (2007, 17 May): ‘I was slightly sad that

most of the children were simply mixtures of their parents in personality. However, I do say

that I love how Quet, Malk, and Lerek, although clones, had their own quirks that made them

unique.’

Some reviewers explicitly warn for Mary Sue features. For instance Aion_13 (2008, 1

December) comments on a story narrated by an original character - the long-lost daughter of

the game’s side character Yuan (Eefara, 2008): ‘I guess I can see this moving into cliché and

Suedom, but not if you're careful about it. Do a couple litmus tests, go over her character

again and balance it out as the story goes on. It's fine for now, but there’s always the danger.’

To elaborate, the Litmus test is a poll that crosschecks if your original character is a Mary

Sue, used by quite some starting writers. The advice to check the test is also illustrative of

fanfiction and the specific problems an amateur writer comes across when compared to

76

original fiction. The tool is helpful to find any canon-Sues or general Mary Sues and thus

prevent misfits among the existing characters.

It would be plausible to assume that the fiction that displays greater writing skill gains

more feedback, and perhaps even more professional criticism, but this is not exactly the case.

Indeed, it seems that the longer fiction draws more attention, but this might be misleading as

well, since reviewers post there several times. Some quality fiction gains a good readers

group, but other stories go by unnoticed. This usually tends to be the case at sites where

networking, socializing and reviewing each other’s work are crucial to get more readers.

Aside from skills what matters is how active you are in the community and how long you

have been there. Nonetheless, I have also seen it work the other way around when authors

practically review each story in their category, but gain little reviews themselves. Perhaps

lower quality or alternative character portrayals lead to fewer readers here.

Interactivity and collaboration

The fact that readers can track a story and provide feedback at each chapter, gives new

possibilities to interact. Where in print-culture a book goes through several institutions before

getting published, here the readers can glance at a kind of work in progress that can still be

edited. In fact, because the story is uploaded in chapters and reviewed as such, it might be that

readers have some influence on the narrative altogether. However, some writers may choose

to pre-plan their story to such a degree that they may be reluctant to take the opinion of

reviewers into account. Indeed, often the comments are so generic that a writer may not even

be able to do something with them plot wise. Even if comments are thorough, he can only try

to pay attention to that in the future. A fanfiction author rarely edits the plot of previous

chapters: what is edited commonly includes language or the descriptions. Nonetheless I came

across quite some fanfiction that explicitly asked readers to give their opinion about aspects of

the plot or otherwise. Interestingly, some writers even calculate on audience participation

when creating a fanfic. I shall highlight a few of those examples here where writers explicitly

count on creative collaboration with their readers.

Importantly the type of fanfiction that relies on audience participation is usually

episodical, meaning that it follows a similar formula each chapter with a plot or concept that

the readers can pick. An interesting example is for instance Raine’s Cookbook (Falcon Crest,

2008) in which one of the characters, Raine, serves a bad meal each time. Raine is renowned

for her bad cooking skills in the source-text, an element that is exaggerated in this comedy.

Many of the later recipes are chosen by the readers that may suggest something relatively


77

easy, for instance a pie, which Raine fails to make properly and serves her horrified little

brother. Each episode uses the same structure: First it lists the ingredients, then it shows how

to prepare the meal à la Raine, finally it is served and tasted. If the readers suggest too many

ideas, the author saves the concepts up or combines them into one mixed meal.

Another example is a parody featuring one of the characters, Kratos, who discovers

fanfiction online (LateNiteSlacker, 2006). Here the audience is asked to give suggestions as to

what dubious Tales of Symphonia stories he might read. The author’s goal is then to write a

witty, shocked response by Kratos and keep the story going. Suggestions include gender-

blenders, crossovers with The Legend of Zelda, pairings involving Kratos and more, which in

turn result in eccentric plot lines. Another story, Tales of Truth or Dare (Active Gal, 2009),

stages the author herself as a game show host that gives a new quiz each chapter. She actively

encourages the readers to contribute: ‘“Okay, let me explain the rules,” I turn (sic) towards the

camera and smile, “All you readers can send in your questions and dares in your reviews.

Even if you already send one for this chapter, you can do it again for the next chapter, and the

next, and the next chapter. So in other words, Keep sending your requests in!”’

A last example includes a fanfic that has been praised a lot over the years: Z Skit

Theater by Twilight Scribe (2006) with 4,991 reviews quite possibly the Tales of Symphonia

fic with the most comments. Featuring 335 chapters (2009, 4 June) it also seems quite long,

but the amount of words is doable since the sections are short. These ‘skits’ are imitations of

the dialogues in the game, a feature that shows thumbnails of the characters engaging in

random conversations. FanFiction.net does not allow thumbnails or script format as such,

which is why the author of Z Skit Theater uses bold and italics for certain characters to

undermine the site’s policy. A pure script format obliges one to write something as ‘Lloyd:

‘Hi Kratos!’ but here a loophole is found by simply stating in the beginning that Lloyd is

written in italics and then writing for instance Hi Kratos. Twilight Scribe aims to make new

skits that could have taken place in the game and therefore she often suggests a point in the

source-text that they could have been activated. The skits are very true to the ones in the

game, which is one of the reasons why this fanfic has drawn so much attention.

Here a large reader group is formed that comments frequently and gives suggestions

for new skits. Twilight Scribe takes these into account and credits the reviewers that coined

the concepts. The reviews are usually short and state they found a new skit hilarious.

Sometimes they go into moments or plot holes in the game that the skits play with. For

instance, some comments address problems in the source-text because the skit allows them to

elaborate on things as Lloyd’s fighting skills; angel’s wings or the political climate of the

78

story world. Frequent readers also compare the skits amongst each other in terms of quality,

such as Vook (2009, 1 February): ‘HAHAHAHAHAHA this has to be one of the BEST skits

EVER! It's probably right up there with the ones where Kratos is trying to speak to Anna

about Lloyd through the Exsphere, and the ones on Kratos (skits 200 and 201)’.

The internet also facilitates ways to collaborate with other writers more extensively.

For instance, two or more authors can write a story and post it on either one’s account. The

previously mentioned Ripple Effect (2009) was an endeavour by two authors who made a new

account specifically for that fanfic. They both wrote parts of the fanfic and posted that on their

shared account. Most collaborative fanfiction I spotted, including Ripple Effect, uses the same

strategy in which an author gives the perspective of one character and the other writes another

character. Indeed this is an easy way to cooperate. Examples of this include Pirates of

Symphonia (Meowzy-chan, 2006) which is hosted at one account and lists the other author.

She has a few more collaborations hosted at her profile with different authors that write the

perspective of character Kratos. I have not found any examples of more extensive co-

authorship then this, though I presumed that this platform might have enabled that. Naturally,

it is harder to work together if you both write the same character because there might be

differences in writing style then.

Aside from reviews and collaborative fiction there are other ways for fellow-fans to

have input on a story. Some stories are made at the request or challenge of others or as a kind

of commission (e.g., Heart of Shou, 2008). Other fiction can be written to participate in a

project or contest. This sets limitations for the writer who then has to integrate a required

theme and work with that. This leads to stories that are not collaborative in an extensive sense

but coin concepts for the author nonetheless. Interestingly there also exist forums on

FanFiction.net that members can built themselves. The option is not used that much but does

provide a platform at the site itself to interact more thoroughly than via reviews or private

messages. At the forums – if you find one that is a bit active - you can address topics such as

collaborations. Though this kind of interaction seems ideal, it only works if the members are

aware of this option and use it actively.

Help, I’m a Sue! Self-conscious elements in fanfiction

Fanfiction writers also integrate more playful elements we know from other fiction as well.

Some of the more sophisticated literary devices are not uncommon there. Quite some fan-

authors embed a self-conscious image of their writing and fan practices in their fiction. In

literary studies this is usually described as metafiction to categorize that fiction which is self-


79

referential. The term finds its origins in the seventies. Robert Scholes was one of the first to

describe it, as fiction that incorporates criticism on itself (1995, p. 29). The most workable

definition comes from Patricia Waugh’s book Metafiction (1984), namely, “fictional writing

which self-consciously and systemically draws attention to its status as an artefact” (p. 2).

This self-referencing interrupts the reality of the story world, but in turn shows that the writers

are highly aware of their fiction, writing and even the source-text as a specific medium,

namely a videogame, that cannot be accurately represented in prose. In Tales of Symphonia

fanfiction notably three elements depict this self-conscious fiction: Firstly, references to fan

practices within fanfiction; secondly, underlining the difference in media between the game

and prose and thirdly, the author as a protagonist in fanfiction. These aspects of fan texts

provide us with an idea of how a fan-author views himself and his writing.

It is not uncommon for fanfiction stories to refer to the practice of fanfiction or fans in

general. In some fanfiction this may be integrated without causing much discontinuity with

the story world. For instance, a main-character from the videogame, Zelos, already has fan

girls within the game so it is then only a small step to depict one of these writing fanfiction or

drawing him. In other cases this blending of fan activities and the story world is made more

explicit, though it can be argued to what degree this disrupts the narrative. Sometimes for

instance the characters engage in fan practices in stories, such as making fanfiction or fan art,

which is equated with expressing love as a plot device. As an example, in one story (Accident

Prone, 2009) Yuan is in love with Kratos but dares not show this. Whenever Kratos is near

him he starts to act like a giddy teenage girl rather than an adult man, and in his silent

devotion he makes countless portraits. The author describes these as ‘fan art’ rather than

portraits. However, courtships in fiction (and perhaps even real life) integrate similar plot

devices frequently. It is not per se fannish to make drawings of your loved one (or stories, or

unread love letters) but here it is redefined as a fan practice rather than a romantic one. Rather

than as a gay man Yuan is depicted here as a fan boy, a teenager like the actual author here.

In other cases online practices or fanfiction as such are addressed in fanfiction itself.

The story world is personalized here by blending features of the author’s daily life (e.g.,

internet) with the existing fictional universe. This can lead to awkward situations if characters

come across the fan practices that surround them. For example, in the previous section I

mentioned a story in which Kratos reads fanfiction (LateNiteSlacker, 2006). He gets a

computer and internet and starts browsing at ‘FanFiction dot net’. Naturally he is confronted

with many fanfiction parodies of the Tales-cast: ‘Meanwhile, Kratos usurped the computer

again! “Translate into English?” Blindly, he clicked away! “Kratos, I love with you!” Girl

80

with brown hair and brown eyes and whose name was Anna says. “I love you!!!” Kratos

cries! “But I must tell you. I am really an alien and I love Link.” Zelda says and walks away.

THE END “……” Kratos stared at the screen, wondering if perhaps this was all just a very

bad dream’. Here fanfiction is discussed as a genre and online practice, not just an expression

of love that can easily be equated with other forms of homage and devotion. When it is

embedded in the story world as similar to for instance love letters, there is little disruption and

the theme may appeal to the fan readers as a kind of in-joke. When confronted with actual

online fanfiction the characters have to react to this practice though.

A second way in which fan-authors stage a more self-conscious narrative is by making

elements of the game explicit. They address the discrepancy between the prose as fiction and

the game which requires a GameCube, controllers and has specific RPG-features, like getting

grades or obtaining higher levels. Features of the game can be made explicit in various ways.

I already mentioned Z Skit Theater (Twilight Scribe, 2006) which is fashioned like the extra

dialogues that you can activate in the game if you wish. It aims to reflect that format

accurately: the skits are of the same length as those in the game; capture the characters in

terms of style and should fit in the source-text, by stating where the fan skits should have

taken place. In other fandoms it is not uncommon to write script fanfiction that aims to be as

true to the series as possible. For instance in the Futurama-community fan-authors write

scripts that match the existing episodes down to seconds (Bailey, 2005). This practice in Tales

of Symphonia is thus not all that unusual, but it is interesting to see that it is based on a minor

feature of the game which is enriched through these fan texts.

Other fiction plays with the line between the videogame as constructed, mediated

fiction and our actual culture. In some stories the video-game characters explore our

technology or the game’s interface. For instance, they get sucked into our world or elements

of our world (e.g., internet) are integrated in their story. I already mentioned the fanfic in

which the Tales of Symphonia cast winds up in America and wants to play its own game

(VanNeon, 2009). In other fanfiction they are awakened from the videogame as flat characters

and made into conscious human beings with all kinds of consequences. Then the lack of the

game world is made more explicit (e.g., NexusTehulF0o, 2009, ch. 5): ‘“Things are…kinda

bulgy in this world. But I think I’m beginning to like it.” Zelos mused, placing his hand to his

chin and adjusting himself on the arm of the couch. He then poked his own arm, studying the

3-D version of himself’. In some fanfiction the characters are depicted as actual humans

transported from the story world as a reality or dimension to this world. The only gap then is a

cultural one.


81

Notably self-insertion fanfiction addresses the interface of a game in various ways.

Indeed this fiction has a main-motive the gamer/fan getting pulled into the story world, so it is

not strange that most of these refer to the interface at some point. For instance, a look at one

of the more renowned self-insertion fics, Two Worlds Combined (Venus Tenshi, 2005),

features a girl falling into the Tales of Symphonia world. What immediately strikes her as odd

is the disappearance of her GameCube as a mediator. This forms a motive that often returns in

the earlier chapters of this fic. The lack of her console constitutes a deviant, alternative

experience of the story world. This is solved when a few chapters later her GameCube enters

as a personification, a character by itself: ‘The girl brushes dust out of her dress before

performing a fancy bow, springing back up with a bright smile. I’m still bloody freaked. “I am

your GameCube (sic), the one and the only, here for your service!”’ (id., ch. 5). This

personification outgrows the device that is based on and has quite a cheerful personality. This

does not meet up to the main-character’s expectation: ‘I always expected my GameCube to be

kinder if it were a person – and as a male. Well, GameCubes are blue. It’s a hunch, okay? I’m

confused with myself, so I’ll shut up. I’ll just ask my GameCube when it/she gets here’ (id.).

In other self-insertion fanfics the GameCube is even the reason gamers get warped into

the game as a reality. A recurring motive is a power-off or technological fault: ‘"Of course," I

breathed, excitedly. "It was the thunderstorm! It must have zapped the GameCube or

something and...digitized...me..." My train of thought slowed as I realized the consequences

of my statement. If I had been digitized, then, I might truly be in the game... How would I get

home! Even worse, what would my parents do when they found me missing? One scorched

GameCube, fried disk, melted memory card, and no anime-loving daughter... Oh, sheezus.

They're going to have simultaneous heart attacks’ (Cerby, 2006).

Other fanfiction goes into the in-game interface - such as the battle system - more

deeply, especially when the protagonist-gamer is forced to fight monsters. It turns out that

once he or she’s fully immersed in the story world as a reality, this system has disappeared.

What is left is an experience of real-life and actual battle, much to the disappointment of some

characters, note for instance: ‘“WHAT NOW BITCH, NOW GIMME SOME

EXPERIENCE!” Unfortunately I forgot that you have to finish a battle to get any experience,

and the scorpion wasn't dead yet. Come to think of it, I honestly doubt that anyone got

experience points in this world’ (Lolbutter, 2009, chapter 2). Lack of levelling appears to be a

frequently used motive in these fictions, though some writers may address the lack of grades

or other aspects of the game such as the map. This is less common though, since the surprise

that there are no levels or accounts of damage is one of the first things a gamer would realize

82

when he goes into battle in this lived story world. The absence of a battle system will then be

taking into account in the following events.

A third way of displaying self-consciousness is through the fan-protagonist of self-

insertion fanfiction. As a gamer the author of this genre of fanfiction is highly aware of

certain aspects of the story world. This also leads to a very specific kind of story in which the

author is portrayed as the fan he or she is. The identity of the author as a fan also makes him a

deviant subject in the story world. For starters he is highly aware of what will happen because

he is a fan that has consumed the game. Naturally this leads to foreshadowing and

developments in which he as a protagonist already knows the outcome and can even alter the

plot line. A good example is this passage: ‘“That must be Magnius,” Genis says as we stop on

the bridge, our group silent agreeing not to take action until ab-so-lute-ly necessary. The last

thing we want to do is get anyone killed who shouldn’t actually have to be. I know Magnius

killed that man in the game, but what if he doesn’t exactly stop there? And what if Chocolat

doesn’t come and Cacao dies? Gah. Must think positively’ (Venus Tenshi, 2005, ch. 27).

The protagonist of a self-insertion story also pays specific attention to the characters

and world as such. In most cases this is a dream coming true. Making acquaintance with the

cast of the game leads to awkward situations in which the fan displays his affinity. Here a fan

gets sword fighting class from one of the characters: ‘“Try the beginning, and things may get

easier.” Kratos advised coolly, leaning back against Noishe with his sword in his lap. I stared

at both of them for a moment, resisting a very strong fangirlish urge to run over there and hug

him to death. But no, that wouldn't be wise, he would probably slice my head off long before I

got to him’ (Cerby, 2006). Naturally the characters do not know the fan yet, but the fan might

accidentally make a slip of the tongue. Note this first conversation between the author-

protagonist and the characters: “It's okay, Colette, my parents had died, believing… in Martel.

They would be happy...” I explained, giving a small smile. “How did you know her name?”

Lloyd questioned, also giving me a suspicious glance. Niiiiice job, Gabby I did so damn'

good, now how do I expect to get myself out of this one’ (Cinnamon Chan, 2009, ch. 2).

As a fan with an affective relation towards the characters that knows all the ins and

outs of the game, it is problematic at some points to blend into the world perfectly. Though

some fans might feel at home in the game, they want to get home in these narratives usually

too and then cooperation with the existing cast is essential. At other points it is made clear the

fan is from another world and should not make the mistake of referring to things that do not

exist in the story world. In one fic the author poses as a teacher: ‘“If you teach yourself then

there has to be a subject you like above all others,” he says. It was posed as a half fact half


83

question. What is my favourite subject anyway? It’s Japanese, but there is no Japan in

Sylvarant, and that would lead to some odd questions. I guess I’ll have to go with my second

favourite’ (Venus Tenshi, 2005, ch. 6). The author-protagonist thus constantly has to think

about how he behaves and what he states.

As a fan the protagonist here is also highly aware of fanfiction practices which results

in fanfiction referring to fanfiction. The fan can address that the plot reminds him of self-

insertion fiction, perhaps to his disappointment: ‘That’s impossible. I am not in Tales of

Symphonia. I am not in Iselia, and I am definitely not in a very clichéd self insertion who

joins the Chosen and Lloyd on the journey of regeneration and saves the world at the end’

(IceQueen890, 2009, ch. 1). Before getting pulled into the virtual reality of the story, some

fans may be reading or writing fanfiction, such as in this example of Kitty29 (2009):

‘Seriously, I think I should stop loving anime and start taking crack or something. Really,

getting trapped in a video game? What is this fanfiction dot net? And sure, next thing I know

Lloyd and Genis are gonna get married and Colette’s gonna pull out two machine guns and go

Rumbo on everyone’s asses. Hehheh…that would be awesome. But alas, I am not in a video

game, nor sucked into the internet’.

Self-insertion fics sometimes make very ironical statements about other self-insertion

fics, for instance: ‘One thing that always annoyed me about these fan fictions were self

inserts. I’ve never been a fan of Mary Sues and so I avoided these self inserts like the plague.

One day I was bored and had nothing else to read, so I clicked on a little something titled

“Two Worlds Combined”. And by God, I’ve been hooked ever since’ (Whatsername427,

2009, ch. 1). In Nightfoot’s Tales of Cosplayers a few cosplayers enter the story world and

refer to fan practices throughout the narrative. One of the protagonists even starts to wonder if

she has not turned into the Mary Sues she despises as a fan (2008, ch. 43). Sadly she has to

conclude that she did.

The fan-author

Fanfiction is written by fans who emotionally invest in certain aspects of a source-text. This

reflects on their writing practices in several ways. The question is then to what degree these

fans are authors and vice versa. How does this specific cultural category of authorship

operate? We have seen various elements of this already: the genres; the (fan) community and

its specific feedback; the references to fan practices or aspects of the source-text. In the

previous section I also highlighted one notable example of how a fan’s and author’s identity

can overlap through the author-protagonist. In this section I shall address this double identity

84

even further: firstly by going into ownership and authorship, then by discussing how

authorship is addressed explicitly in fan texts and lastly by describing fan-authors that gained

a small fan community themselves.

As we have seen in the previous sections fans are aware that the characters and

settings do not belong to them. Nonetheless they feel attached to the product and want to

explore it imaginatively. To assure proper (legal) attribution fans usually post a disclaimer

above their fiction. A common disclaimer usually looks roughly like this: ‘I do not own Tales

of Symphonia, Namco does’. Because disclaimers are used in almost every fanfic and get

cliché easily, fans try to be a bit more inventive. Note for instance this disclaimer: ‘I don't

own Tales of Symphonia, or any of its components. This is a work of fiction meant to honor a

great piece of fiction and is in no way intended to undermine intellectual rights. Please don't

sue me’ (Joshuaorrizonte, 2007). This often leads to ironical suppositions of emotional

ownership or the wish to own the source-text: ‘I don't own Tales of Symphonia, which

depresses me to no end’ (Whatsername427, 2007, ch. 42). Other disclaimers emphasize this

wishful thinking by adressing what they would have done if they had owned the source-text,

for instance: ‘I do NOT own Tales of Symphonia or its characters. If I did, Kratos would

never have left and the ending would be much [sic] better’ (Active Gal, 2009) or

‘SakuMeiMei does not own the game Tales of Symphonia. Otherwise Kratos would be way

faster than he is right now and Zelos would be in your party from the very beginning’

(SakuMeiMei, 2006). Other authors note down what they added to the source-text by

describing that the original characters or concepts that belong to them: ‘I do not own ToS...

but sadly I do own Raine's recipes...’ (Falcon crest, 2008).

These disclaimers thus show an authorial dimension of fanfiction - a sense of

originality and authorship in transformative fiction and a wish to create an inspiring story -

and a fannish one - the characters or structure of a game; the affinity with that specific source-

text and explicit hierarchy between the fan and the corporation that owns the product. I briefly

referred to author’s notes earlier which can trigger specific informal discussions, comments

on writing or discussions about the source-text. Importantly author’s notes at the beginning or

end of each chapter give insights in the identity of the fan-author. Some author’s notes go

more into problems related to writing while others answer questions of readers and thus create

an informal bound with the audience. However, most of the time elements of the source-text

and fan text or even fan community are mixed. To exemplify with a typical author’s note: ‘I

love the Zelos/Lloyd pairing to bits. But reading the stories with it, it looks like in most of

them, Zelos is all too close to a rapist. And what’s with the crap of Lloyd always getting


85

bottom? Yea, so I decided to see what I could do about that. I’m trying to stay true to their

characters so…please let me know how I’m doing’ (Accident Prone, 2009). The statements

here shift in discourse by referring to: source-text, fan community, the uploaded fan text and

authorial practice. This again shows how the fan-author is occupied with the existing text, the

fandom and his own written fan text and the quality thereof.

In reviews readers frequently make claims related to authorship as we have seen in the

previous paragraphs. They refer to the quality of the text, how it fits the game, the character

portrayals and others. However, some of them also explicitly address authorship, not just by

making statements about style and grammar, but by stating this fan is in fact an author who

deserves to be recognized as such. Here the status of an author in the conventional sense of

the word is reflected on the fan-author, who is seen as more than just a writer. Note this

energetic review of Grand Kid (Freakyanimegirl, 2005): ‘Everything lined up perfectly. U R

A GENIUS! Just... perfect... flawless... funny... full of twisting plot... MEANINGFUL plot.

This is very rare, I must say. Imagination, humor, a fantastic flow of dialogue, and a well

developed plot in one story’ (Eyes of the infinite galaxy, 2007, ch. 87). Laudatory reviews are

nothing new but those that explicitly address the fan as an actual author are somewhat rare.

Another insightful example of how the fan-author can be valued is this longer review

on Shadowwind’s fanfiction (2005): ‘Ever since I discovered fanfiction some seven-

something years prior, I have read millions of words typed by a multitude of different authors,

each writing with their own unique style in the fandom they chose build upon already existing

ideas in. But never--NEVER-- have I had the priveledge [sic] to read a story such as the epic

typed out before me. Over six-hundred-thousand words in length were [sic] the world ran a

different way. I believe without a doubt Namco would have purchased and published this idea

off of you--or made a comic mini-series of it, at the very least. You are truly a talented and

gifted crafter of your language, and it is my greatest hope that [sic] take the pride that you

deserve in your skill (Afficiando, 2008, ch. 28). In other reviews the author is compared to

praised authors of literature to describe the quality of the fanfic that readers consider to be

high: ’I read a book called "The Catcher in the Rye" maybe you have readed [sic] it yourself,

but the author writes in a really similar way like you, all sarcastic and funny, I love it!

(Supergulo, 2007 on Venus Tenshi, 2005, ch.73) or ‘you have to be the best writer I have seen

on this site and if you ever publish a book and make it avalible [sic] in America I will buy it’

(Tiger002, on id., ch. 57).

In some cases fanfiction authors gain a fan community of their own and fiction is

derived from their fiction. In the Tales of Symphonia fandom I found various examples of

86

that. For starters, Venus Tenshi has quite some readers. Some of them make fan art which

they host at other sites, but are linked to for instance in author’s notes. Others derive

fanfiction of her work (e.g., Metamorcy, 2009) or feel inspired by her (e.g., Whatsername427,

2007). Similarly one can find fan art and fiction based on the fanfic Grand Kid (2005) and its

sequel. Whatsername427 also gained a wide readership throughout the years and features a lot

of fan art in her profile. Authors happily distribute the derived works of their own fiction and

feel flattered. It seems that lengthy fanfiction that has been around for years has the potential

to become really successful and some fans will invest in the original characters as well.

In some cases the format of fanfiction has been a source of inspiration for readers.

Notably Z-skit Theatre (Twilight Scribe, 2006) has led to other fiction that adopts the same

format. Recently two fanfics (BrandonGlee123, 2009; Kitty-Katz-Katz, 2008) were published

in the same dialogue format, derived from the sequel of Tales of Symphonia. Both fan-authors

asked permission of the author of Z-skit Theater to use a similar ploy which shows that

although fans may borrow material from other texts, they are also concerned with authority

and paying tribute when necessary. In this case a fanfic inspires other authors to use the same

strategy for their own works, though unfortunately they do not reach the same level of quality

and success. Others may feel inspired to make a kind of sequel to existing fanfiction. One of

my interviewees, Iris Maassen, wrote her first fanfic when she felt she needed to attribute to

an existing fanfic. Being new in this field, she did not ask the author for permission, which

she regretted later. The author discovered her fanfic nonetheless and responded positively by

promoting it at her own site.

To broaden their story world and reach a different audience, some fans choose to

enrich their narrative through various media. Illustrating the story then or commissioning fan

art of others to support the text is not uncommon. Some fans upload their fiction with these

images at their personal site, since FanFiction.net does not include an image option. Others

may explore different media. Meowzy-chan for instance created a roleplaying community at

LiveJournal (2006) to support her Idiot Seraphim universe. There she roleplayed with several

of her readers in the fanfiction’s setting. In some cases a fanfic can thus be transformative in a

double sense, as being based on a source-text as well as a fan text. The fan practices and

emotional connection are then the same towards a fan text as to a popular text. Again fans,

inspired by a good story, want to be more indulged with the characters, setting and events.

Those fans that learn a lot through their fanfiction and keep at it at some point may be

surprised to find that they inspire others to transform their stories too.


87

When the fan becomes a well-read writer, what becomes famous is his nickname, not

the actual name which is often harder to find. The nicknames fans adopt are frequently related

to a fandom they were in or still participate in. When checking author’s names at

FanFiction.net it also appeared many had a nickname related to a more general fandom, say

anime, rather than Tales of Symphonia specifically. Others had very playful nicknames

indicating a degree of cuteness – for instance by adding cute in their name or ‘chan’ after their

name, a Japanese word indicating someone is young or small. A nickname is one of the first

things people will notice, therefore it is given a lot of attention. FanFiction.net has so many

members that a new member is also forced to choose creatively because the conventional

nicknames are taken. In general fans use the same nickname at various platforms: changing

nicknames is not something one easily does, even if one’s affinity with a fandom declines. It

is something you grow attached to and have gained friends with. Nicknames in fanfiction

hardly resemble more general literary devices as pseudonyms. While pseudonyms are

frequently used to make an author more special, mysterious or detach him from his fiction,

fans will use their nickname to emphasize an affinity with a certain interest, fandom or culture

or highlight an aspect of their personality. It is a more playful practice and in some cases

aimed at becoming accepted in a community easily.

A look at this case-study might lead to the supposition that it is hard to gain a

reputation as good fanfiction author. As addressed before, the values are very specific and

those that write in popular genres or fandoms are more likely to get readers. Moreover, it also

matters how the writer interacts online with the other writers, readers and perhaps his fellow-

fans at different platforms. All of this might even count more than the quality of an author’s

writing. However, it also turns out that within these fields writers can get recognition if they

meet the wished criteria of their selective audience and mingle these with personal elements.

Something original – in terms of plot and style – in the fan text is highly appreciated.

Fanfiction might seem a limitation for the writer to some degree since it sets many values that

original writing does not have. However, quality wise the limit is lower for writers. This also

assures that those who continue at it can grow artistically and if they wish, indulge in other

writing practices as well.

By being embedded in a certain community the fan-author relies on his readers in

different ways than other writers. A fanfic cannot be read by everyone and has to go through a

process of becoming accepted in the community. It is a type of art that immediately draws an

audience, but at the same time also excludes other reader groups. The more accepted a fanfic

becomes, the more recognition the author will get. Those that stay in one fandom for a long

88

time and keep at it will get attention and develop their skills. One of those particular skills is

writing or acting out an existing character properly. That is what the next chapter discusses

when exploring the performative dimension of transformative works, which is illustrated via

textual roleplaying.


89

Chapter 4

Performative authorship: Writing and role-playing characters

The practice and varieties of role-playing

In the last chapter fan communities, collaborative writing and reviewing systems were

addressed that influenced the way fanfiction was created and read. Here the readers had a

degree of interaction and input since authors relied on their audience as being active and

familiar with the source-text. Stories with many participants were absent here, but are

dominant in other strains of fanfiction. This chapter will address fan practices expressed

through role-playing games or (RPG’s) and the stories that are told there. In these games all

players assume the role of a fictional character. The narrative is structured via rules or

guidelines in which the players determine actions for their characters. In some games a player

starts blank and develops his character in the process; in others he plans the background of

this fictional persona carefully.

The actions in a role-play are very diverse: they can be a plot-related, a conversation

or based on the (fighting) skills of the characters. A role-playing game stands out from

traditional story such as written stories in a sense that it is collaborative and every participant

can have input. The story becomes interactive and relies on an active audience to construct it

and improvise. While some role-plays emphasize interaction and storytelling, the

incorporation of skills or teams can also trigger a sense of competition that makes the game

more exciting. In terms of structure role-playing games need a system, players and supervisor;

I shall briefly touch upon these three elements.

Role-playing games come in all shapes and sizes. Traditionally the participants were

in the same social setting, but nowadays the internet has stimulated online role-playing.

Among the first of these games were tabletop role-playing games, notably Dungeons and

Dragons, which are played in real life with a small social group and various handbooks. Most

tabletop RPG’s tend to follow the Dungeons and Dragons as a formula which includes

statistics and an element of chance via dice rolling. Other tabletops favour less game play and

focus on storytelling with a more fluid structure. Role-playing games can also be conducted in

real life in a more theatrical way in for instance live-action role-plays (LARP). These games

are played in costume and with many props such as specific soft weapons. The sessions will

often last a weekend with many participants enabling a large story that may include battles.

90

Computer-mediated role-plays also include a variety of systems and structures. The

first online role-playing games were textual and explored through specific programmes.

Nowadays one can also participate in a role-play via boards, chat and blogs, to which I shall

pay attention in the next sections. Here the story and interaction is written and the image one

has of his fellow-players is often envisioned through text. Of course one can also role-play

through video games that have made a specific genre of RPG’s. These are slightly different

from tabletop role-playing games. Especially the single-player games (e.g., Tales of

Symphonia) do not feature the spontaneous interaction with fellow-players and input in a story

which is so characteristic of the traditional games. Here a video game mostly borrows the

structure of the earlier role-plays in terms of narrative (quest structure) or game-play (that

includes building skills and gaining more expertise) but lacks the interactivity. Multiplayer

role-playing games usually resemble traditional tabletop role-playing games a lot in a sense

that they do have moderators or game masters, various players and rely on interaction. The

degree to which participants can enable a story and improvise in these video games is

however debatable and depends on the game.

The character of a role-play can be an existing one or original, depending on the role-

play. The fictional character has to be coherent, plausible and the player needs to stay true to

his personality when interacting with the others. To some degree the character may overlap

with the player and become a fictional alter ego. To quote role-play theorists Hakkarainen and

Stenros (2002): ‘A character is a framework of roles through which the player interacts within

the game, and for which she constructs an illusion of a continuous and fixed identity, a

fictional "story of self" binding the separate, disconnected roles together’. This bridging

between the self and the character will become apparent throughout this chapter. When

referring to the players of a character I use the term ‘players’ rather than ‘gamers’, ‘writers’ or

‘authors’ since this is the most common term to refer to the participants of a role-play.

Furthermore, the other terms highlight only part of the role-playing practice which, as a game

mediated through writing, forms a specific type of storytelling.

The game master (GM) is a referee that guides the game, makes sure the rules are

followed and that characters are, and behave, suitable for that role-play. His functions include

helping with the rules, securing the narrative and providing interaction. Online the game

master is often also the moderator of the site and will then also be referred to as moderator or

mod. Though he fulfils the same purpose as a traditional game master, online he also has the

practical function of moderating for instance a board or virtual community. The game master

sometimes has a playable character as well, especially in online textual role-playing games


91

this function is often fulfilled by experienced players or founders of the game who participate

themselves. Guiding a live-action role-play with many participants leads to a different

organisational structure. Usually these games have a larger staff and not one or a few

moderators or game masters.

Though role-plays include an element of game-play the emphasis is on collaborative

storytelling. Manuals of various role-plays, guide lines, players and scholars frequently

underline the interactive dimension as specific to this fiction (e.g., Stratton, 2009; Waskul and

Luts, 2004; Wikipedia, 2009). A role-play can be defined as a type of participatory story-

telling in which all players contribute to the narrative and its development. More than the

collaborative efforts mentioned in the last chapter, role-playing relies on its audience to

construct the story. The game masters may have more input but this is mostly to provide a

structure to the narrative and the game-play. The way the story unravels is dependent on the

system the players use and their own input.

What all these role-playing games have in common is the element of make-belief: on

the one hand by adopting a character or persona and playing that out, on the other by imaging

and co-creating the story world which functions through conventions or symbolism (Murray,

1997, notably chapter 4; Waskul and Luts, 2004). Posing as a character, behind the pc or in

real life, is what role-playing is all about. For some players this character, especially if it is an

original one, may be very close to their actual personality; others deliberately construct or

choose a character that is opposite to themselves. Like in all fiction the original character can

also be a hybrid of fictional preferences of the writer, subtly constructed from texts he or she

is acquainted with. When choosing an existing character a player may have different criteria

when selecting such as: a high affinity with the source-text or fandom; completing the cast of

a source-text in a fan role-play; a particular liking of a character; comfortable or easy play

because a character has distinctive features; exploration of certain side characters.

In the game imagining other players as their fictional counterparts and a mundane

setting (e.g., a virtual forum; an actual table with props) as the story world is essential.

Through this imagining immersion in the narrative can be achieved. To sustain or reach this

state of mind behaviour that is out of character - related to the player himself - is regulated

strictly. Opposed to this is in character behaviour when the player has assumed the role of the

protagonist. Make-belief is crucial here and can be held up in various ways. In real life

costumes or props can help envision the story world better, though table-top role-plays like

Dungeons and Dragons are usually played without too much ado. At LiveJournal icons are

for instance part of the theatrics. Role-playing relies heavily on symbolism by envisioning

92

props, items, interfaces, people, and texts as something that they are not. This element of play

may remind some of children’s games, a comparison that is often made. Though at first this

seems slightly belittling, it is a justified reasoning: like children the adults here use their

active imagination to construct a story world that is built up from personal elements, tastes

and a collective consensus.

In terms of genre or setting role-plays differ immensely. From fantasy-settings, to

historical periods, to science fiction and fan role-plays based on all kinds of texts, the

possibilities are as broad as the participants can envision. Fan role-plays are specific for this

research and can be staged in two ways. Firstly, some role-plays adopt the setting of a source-

text (e.g., Hogwarts, a certain point of the Star Wars timeline) and play that out, often with

characters of their own that fit the source-text. Secondly, role-play can adopt the characters

from the source-text by using either multiple fandoms (e.g., you can choose any cartoon

character you like) which is described as a multi-fandom RPG, while others focus on just one

series (e.g., you can only choose a Tales of Symphonia character).

Online role-playing games can be conducted in several ways via graphical interfaces

or textual ones where writing mediates the game-play. Textual role-playing games were

among the first online games altogether with early systems as MUD’s, short for multi-user

dungeons: large textual environments with various rooms or settings. These programs have

been around since the mid-seventies in various varieties (e.g., Ryan, 2001, p. 310). The

MUD’s that are more object-oriented (MOO’s) also allow players to interact with objects.

These programs rely on the one hand on programmed content such as fixed descriptions of

characters, objects and settings and on the other hand on spontaneous chats and actions by

participants. MUD’s drew some attention from scholars over the years. These role-plays

predate other online roleplaying practices such as MMORPG’s, massive online multiplayer

role-playing games (e.g., World of Warcraft) which have gained great popularity over the last

years. Somewhat later role-plays have also been mediated through forums, e-mail, boards,

chat-programs and lately SNS-sites as well. These have unfortunately not been subjected to

much scholarly research yet.

Because my point of focus was transformative fiction based on Tales of Symphonia,

which had no separate role-play, I focused on one role-play that had a great deal of the

characters from the game: Luceti, a multi-fandom role-playing community at LiveJournal, a

widely used system for role-playing. I analyzed this community from 1 April to 16 May after

which I applied to the role-play with a character to gather specific data on the application and

to understand more of the practice in terms of writing. A multi-fandom role-playing game is


93

based on various existing texts and thus allows a similar transformative practice as actual

fanfiction.

The kind of authorial practices that writers engage in here can be described as

transformative authorship. The writing practice is not exactly the same as in chapter 3 though.

To describe the enactment of existing characters better, I coined the term performative

authorship. A role-play is more performative than prose in a sense that the player enacts a

character in dialogues and without too much description. A play revolves around on being in

character. Where the prose writer can enable developments of a character without much ado,

resolve a plot by himself and write multiple characters, the role-player depends on those that

interact with him. This performativity will be highlighted here.

The research on role-play communities on LiveJournal is scarce and explorative. Most

studies focus on the system as a means for social networking (e.g., Wilber, 2007). Those texts

that specifically have role-play blogs as their subject view the texts as a subset of fanfiction

(Lackner et al, 2006; Carrell, 2009; Stein, 2006). Since these games rely on the enactment of

existing texts, depicting them as fanfiction seems logical. Nonetheless they differ from the

fanfiction of last chapter in a sense that they are also a game, ergo, an enjoyable activity

structured through rules and aimed at fulfilling a certain goal. The story thereby follows a

different narrative format because it is guided through these game features and relies on social

interaction. It shall become clear that textual role-plays enable a collaborative storytelling in

ways that the prose on FanFiction.net did not.

Role-playing systems online: Defining these texts and their writers

Textual role-playing games online differ in their practices in that each poses different limits

according to the system it uses. In this section I shall compare the research on MUD’s with

other systems, notably LiveJournal and Twitter, to discern between the writing practices that

are established on these platforms. The role-plays on LiveJournal and on boards are

frequently packed together as play-by-post. This means that players post a message to which

others can reply without a real time-limit. Other role-plays, for instance via chat, rely on fast,

spontaneous interaction while play-by-post allows a player to reply when he can and think

about a message thoroughly. In terms of quality this is a good thing, since a player can take

the time to conduct posts that are worthwhile and befit a character. The posts are saved, and

can be checked by everyone, which assures that the story and interaction can still be retraced.

This becomes slightly harder when dealing with systems that rely more on their game features

and personal logs to save the stories (e.g., MUD’s).

94

Textual systems pose analytical problems for a scholar because they are aimed at users

and often lack a good overview. Importantly, though there is an overarching story, many role-

plays have players that develop personal relations within a role-play and individual stories. A

character in a larger role-play will not interact with everyone because there are that many

participants and a player will not be aware of everything that is written out. Good moderators

(or characters) that summarize the very relevant discussions can then be essential. The

interaction usually takes place one on one though sometimes larger discussions can be held if

the characters are assumed to be in one place. All of this depends on the role-play and the

system, but LiveJournal-communities in general feature a lot of one on one interaction. When

looking at a role-play and reading the various discussions one can never really get a good

overview of what is happening because a role-play, like actual life, features not one narrative,

but countless.

One of the more interesting questions is also whether role-plays mediated by writing

are the same as authorial practices. Janet Murray (1997) for instance argues that adopting a

creative role in for instance a MUD or game is something else than having authorship. You

are first and foremost an interactor who depends on a script someone else has provided. This

interaction is facilitated by the procedural author: the actual writer who has enabled you to

interact with the text and has given you these multiple paths, frames or patterns to work with

(e.g., p. 194). ‘Procedural authorship means writing the rules by which the texts appear as

well as writing the texts themselves. It means writing the rules for the interactor’s

involvement, that is, the conditions under which things will happen in response to the

participant’s actions’ (p. 152).

However, Murray’s concept seems to refer explicitly to coders of digital content,

programmers or authors of hypertext. In her chapter Procedural Authorship (pp. 185-247) she

mainly explains the narrative structure of games and how one could facilitate interaction at

best. Though an interesting term, procedural authorship would not be the right way to

describe practices on already existing platforms such as LiveJournal, which have a basic form

and are used alternatively, for instance, to play games. Here there is no procedural author who

planned this kind of interaction and foresaw that users would communicate there in such a

manner. Also, behind LiveJournal there is an entire team that designed the interface, and users

make the most of its (hyper)textual abilities. The user could be perceived as a procedural

author in a sense that he makes use of the images, tags, texts and html possibilities to achieve

the best representation of, for instance, an existing character. However, since he provides the

reader with limited choices this is not exactly the same as Murray’s term of procedural


95

authorship which implies that you give the reader multiple patterns in a text. The choices for

the reader are limited here and enabled by user options.

One could argue that the moderator of a role-playing game has an extent of procedural

authorship in a sense that he is a game master. The structure of a role-play relies on the game

master who ensures the rules are played out correctly, thinks of the general plot and steers the

interaction when it is needed. A difference would be here that the game master also plays

along as a specific persona himself like the others. The moderator at LiveJournal is a guide

and someone who also organizes the game in real life: he checks the applications of potential

new attendees, promotes the game and updates general parts of the community. For instance,

at Luceti, the moderators play very distinct characters in the game: scientists that pull the

strings in that world and experiment on the players.

Though the moderators can be seen as having more impact on the game in various

ways, they cannot be seen as the authors. The players have immense impact on the game and

all of them invest great effort in writing their characters properly and reading those of others.

Sometimes they turn in a different direction than the moderators intended them too. The

participants are in general aware of their messages and interaction in terms of quality, unlike a

MUD or chat session in which you adopt a certain persona: those conversations are often

brief, comical and condensed and may include going out of character at random (e.g., id., 115-

119).

Whether MUD’s actually manage to construe a large story is a question altogether.

Sherry Turkle (1995, p. 11) considers them ‘collectively written literature’ while Marie-Laure

Ryan (2001, p. 312) believes it depends on the role-play you are in and the players there. In

another essay she highlights MUD’s provide characters and a setting, but no actual plot and

that most of it is ‘small talk’ (2004b, p. 345). While a MUD is very much based on permanent

descriptions and actions, at LiveJournal a player has more freedom to explore the story and

the setting by referring to spontaneously imagined, rather than programmed content. The role-

player at LiveJournal can shape the world without codes or commands inherent of an object.

The blog-based role-play has freedom in writing and descriptions since it is independent of

programming. Communities such as Luceti operate via highly textual blogs with time and

location gaps and incorporate long fictional messages. Considerable effort is invested in the

style, the visual elements of the message and the descriptions. This kind of exploring makes

these role-playing games particularly enjoyable to read, while a MUD-session will often seem

like a chat or off-topic for an outsider.

96

Also, when analyzing a MUD, there is never an overarching story because no player

sees everything. You are always in one setting and never get an overview of the entire game.

Game theorist Espen Aarseth (1999) describes this as follows: ‘A MUD is an ephemeral

phenomenon, with numerous, mutually exclusive perspectives, and no one can have a total

view of it all’. At LiveJournal there can be many participants, but in general it is easier to

analyze and track the interaction because the blog interface that saves all text. However, the

text of comments cannot be edited so what is published is always the original message. This is

important, since fanfiction can be edited for mistakes. The role-player thus carefully has to

check his comment before posting.

Furthermore, a MUD facilitates some solitary play (via locations and objects), while at

LiveJournal one is dependent on his fellow-players for interaction. This naturally afflicts the

quality of a role-play. As you will read in the following, the role-playing games at

LiveJournal rely on their players in general. There is a specific emphasize on justifying a

character’s actions and input and on the maintenance of one’s character. Overall I realized

while doing ethnography at Luceti and going through other sites that role-playing a fan text

here is not about chatting, but about facilitating an optimal, entertaining dialogue that does

justice to the characters. It is also about collaborating and weaving a story with many people

that unfolds slowly and in which each can take his part. This is not to say that a MUD cannot

be very well-plotted, but it is more difficult since it is a social space that provides more

context than actual text and lacks an overview (e.g., Aarseth, 1997, 145-147).

It is true that MUD-systems can incorporate fan practice but in general I found these to

be a less interesting case-study since they indeed are more of a game if one compares them to

fictional blogs. The practice at LiveJournal proves to be something different altogether and

very deliberately construed. Still, both blogging and MUD’s have something in common in

terms of theatrics and performance and I would argue that both are strands of performative

writing. That is not to say that MUD’s are the only role-playing media around. I already

mentioned various chat sites, though SNS-sites as MySpace are also used for role-playing

(e.g. Peeters, 2007) and role-play activity at notably Twitter is increasing. This micro-

blogging system relies on very short texts describing what people are doing at the moment

and relies on brief interaction. This makes it much more immediate and direct than fanfiction

or LiveJournal blogs (Caddell, 2009, p. 8). I would also argue it adds more realism to role-

playing with its emphasis on small actions and daily activities.

What is specifically attractive about Twitter as a platform is the fact that it has an

element of game play: The more you participate with good tweets (messages) and gain


97

followers, the more you are judged worthy of attention. Of course gaining a lot of watchers or

followers or friends is a typical SNS-feature, however, note that LiveJournal role-playing

games are less based on things like friends pages. In common blogs these might be a sign of

status, but in role-playing communities they are not. Your character, being engaged in a role-

play at a community, already has a fixed friends page solely for that role-play and random

readers usually know this. Those role-players at LiveJournal that do not belong to a

community, but for instance maintain a fictional character blog, might rely more on SNS-

features to get an idea of how much readers they have and if they can recruit more.

Since Twitter has no specific role-playing communities, only profiles with followers,

there can be several players with the same character at the large Twitter community (Jenkins,

2009; Caddell, 2009). Naturally this causes problems when a series is popular and role-

players move to Twitter. Within the Mad Men fandom this caused fights between two over the

reputation of the best role-player of the character. This was based not only on the way the

character was performed, but also on the use of the system as such: ‘In fact, as the two Betty

Draper’s argued about who deserved that character the number of followers and the number

of individual tweets played a significant role in their argument’ (id., p. 9). Just as we have

seen with fanfiction as prose, what matters is a good use of the platform as well. We will see

in the following that at LiveJournal this is also crucial.

At the moment Twitter is not that big as a platform for role-playing but this will surely

increase. It is used a lot for Western content but not for Japanese pop-culture, in contrast with

LiveJournal which is currently dominant in fandoms based on Japanese products. It is

interesting to see that some systems tend to draw a different kind of fan group than others, but

it remains hard to pinpoint why that is. In the following I shall try to describe the writing

practices on LiveJournal in detail via a case-study to analyze how these authors view

themselves. When discussing the practice of role-playing as a type of storytelling, a more

collaborative and performative idea of authorship is highlighted.

Luceti: The plot and its characters

Blissfully unaware you wander through a large town of your home world. Maybe you are

shopping or enjoying the culture. Or maybe you are not in a town at all, but on board a boat

or, if you are from an advanced civilization, a star ship. All seems well until you loose

consciousness. The minute you wake up it appears you are kidnapped and somehow grew a

pair of wings in the process. In the distance you see a village that might be worth exploring,

you might as well take a chance. Wherever you came from, you are in Luceti now, a new

98

world with new rules and you had better get used to it. The town is of medium size, with a

barrier around it, at the far reaches of it there is a desert, or so the rumours say. You observe

the situation a bit and notice that the population seems pretty strange. Everyone looks entirely

different in terms of clothing and appearance. The only things they have in common are wings

and barcodes. You need some help, food and a place to stay, it is time to start interacting.

As a diverse multi-fandom role-playing game Luceti features characters from all kinds

of series: from Star Trek, to Twilight, to Avatar; from people to summon spirits to a small

wolf that cannot talk but posts descriptions of her actions. Everyone can interact freely, but at

some points you might be more drawn to those that are from your own source-text. The

interaction with different fandoms and cultures develops the characters into different persons

than they were in the source-text. Nonetheless, you cannot stretch the characters too far: Their

actions needs to make sense in terms of the pre-existing story and the new narrative, the role-

play itself. New relations between texts are established then in one crossover setting: Regal,

ex-con from Tales of Symphonia, now dates Gelda from Tales of the Abyss; Lloyd is pals with

Vyse from Skies of Arcadia; Raine still cares for her little brother Genis and just like back

home she gives courses at the local school. No existing character can be there twice, but

suppose you stop role-playing, your character is sent home. Then someone else can apply

from the same character who is acted out differently then and does not remember ever having

been in Luceti. Aside from the existing cast there are a few non-playable characters in the

game, some animals and a few elemental spirits.

Luceti excludes practically no texts. Players can base themselves even on written

content as books or original fiction that they created themselves, but a problem here is that the

protagonists are usually not visual. Except for illustrated fiction and graphic novels, the

characters in books remain unseen. This becomes an issue in a sense that one needs icons that

visualize a character at LiveJournal. In these cases players can apply with cast-by’s, meaning

that a character is performed by a certain actor, celebrity, model or artwork. Cast-by’s thus

add another dimension to performing a character by basing it on other texts or people again as

a means of online representation. A character is mediated here twice in the performance: once

by the author who writes it and once by the cast-by icons. Two layers of performative

authorship can thus be defined here.

One of the players at Luceti, under the nickname Compos_Mentis, even has various

actors and models as his character’s icons. All of these cast-by’s should represent his

character, Nina, though they are all images from various media sources and artwork. Here the

character almost becomes a symbol or generic description based on the commonality that


99

these women have green eyes and red hair. New transmedial relations and relations between

the character, writer and icon are thus established only through these profile pictures. Where it

seems evident that Luceti juxtaposes a new story world with the source-texts, here the layer of

the character’s appearance constitutes another layer of interpretation and transformation.

Luceti is not just a place of multi-fandom interaction where texts are combined. It is

also a place where a large main plot is unfolding in a kind of whodunit fashion. The wings,

the barrier and the bar codes: all the characters wonder how they are affected by these and

what their use might be. In part this might be explained by the fact that in Luceti you are a test

subject. Just outside the barrier a group of hostile semi-scientists, the Malnosso, experiment

on you. No resident knows how or why these tests are run, but the new posts from the

moderator’s characters increasingly give hints to what might be going on. The moderators

pose as two traitors of the villainous Malnosso that can offer help to the citizens, but since

they might be spied on, the information they give is limited. Being moles in their

organisation, they can only provide some hints through secret channels. Players are left with

many questions. Are the Malnosso the native species of this dimension? Did they get

everyone out of different stories/worlds to deduce specific data? Are they looking for

something or someone? How can they be stopped?

At some points characters become less attached to a source-text. For instance,

particularly hostile characters quickly start to behave more politely in Luceti because they are

isolated from their home world and dependent on the cast there. The interaction characters

have at Luceti might lead to relationships, some of which might last for years when the role-

players remain active in their hobby. The story world is a lived environment and this leads to

particular choices, problems and conflicts. For example, some characters may want to get

married or even have children. In the FAQ (2008) this is explicitly addressed and it is made

very clear that, both in and out of character, players have to make a decision here: ‘Please

make sure the child will be accounted for and that it won't just be some random fluke. Kids

are serious, even in RP. D: But remember, the only reason children can be born is because the

Malnosso want new test subjects. They won't be exempt from some of the bad experiments

that may go down. Please take this into account before your characters decide to have a child’.

To keep the environment and characters active there are ‘events’ at regular basis in

Luceti and most other blog-based role-plays. Here the events are frequently linked to

experiments that the Malnosso conduct on the villagers. When all of the sudden all the

characters have their worst character trait enhanced, have their wings resized or get

kidnapped, the Malnosso are surely behind it trying to test something. But what that could be

100

and how it adds up to the main plot is something all the players have to find out together.

Defeating that kind of an enemy takes a lot of collaborative skills. Luckily aside from wings

you also get a journal. That is where all the action and interaction take place. For the player

himself there is nothing visual in Luceti aside from LiveJournal’s profile icons: 15 images of

the character a player makes himself or gets from LiveJournal fan communities.

The story world is thus mostly an envisioned one. There are no images of what it looks

like or what it is. The settings are explained textually, based on a generic map and information

about the town. There are various shops and houses, a forest, a desert, tunnels. These can be

of use during events or characters can choose to visit them together. Outside of the barrier

there are a lot of mysteries, but the characters cannot go through it. As a textual environment

Luceti is something different for everyone. The story world is read by each player through his

personal experience there, his actual life and the image he has of the source-texts. In this pop-

cultural bricolage a character can bump into all sorts of characters, texts and stories. At the

main community of Luceti there is a bit of information about the plot, timeline and a map, but

most things have to be experienced through playing and conversing. The character has no clue

where he or she winded up and why, that is something the writer will have to deal with by

being inquisitive.

Using LiveJournal to stage stories

After this description you may wonder how the role-play works in practice then. I shall depict

this from the starting point, a player’s application, to the actual practice. First a player applies

with a character that is not yet in the role-play by checking the residents list. Perhaps he has

doubts about who to role-play and checks the requested characters first, in which players from

certain source-texts request others from the same fandom. Maybe there are characters in the

list that a new player is familiar with and thinks he could do justice. Before the application to

a role-play a player should have first done his homework: read all the rules, checked the plot

and features (e.g., a player should be aware that there are various wing colours and that he can

choose one) and importantly, he should be aware of the character he is about to perform.

I should add that all players at Luceti should be considered as fans that have an

emotional connection to certain pop-cultural texts, the fandoms surrounding them and the type

of friends they have made in those communities. Multi-fandom communities as Luceti are

highly embedded in fan communities surrounding American and Japanese popular culture.

Role-playing assumes you are engaged with those, even if you apply with a character of your

own or of a rather obscure series. Those unfamiliar with the texts, values and communities


101

that circulate online would hardly be able to make sense of this. For more general role-playing

with original characters other platforms are a wiser choice, since LiveJournal is used mostly

for fan role-plays. During some explorative browsing through the various role-playing

communities at LiveJournal, I had to conclude that, though some role-plays only referred to

one fandom, the standard were role-plays relating to various fandoms. General settings that

excluded fandoms or fandom as a term were absent. This shows how much fan role-playing is

embedded in this blog system.

When staging a character from an existing source-text it is very important to be well-

informed. Even if a player has recently consumed the source-text, it could be important to

reread it with specific attention to how the character behaves. These analyses are crucial here,

even more than in fanfiction because a player communicates a lot through brief messages and

cannot elaborate via descriptions or inner-thoughts easily, like in prose. It is essential that the

sentences, dialogues and attitude really befit a character. Furthermore, because a role-player is

often caught with different responses from fellow-players than anticipated, he is sometimes

forced to creatively rethink what a character can say or do. Then measuring this interaction

with similar situations in the source-text can be helpful. Deducing how a character is and live

up to that can be difficult. Analyzing the source-text and rereading it again – by role-players

often described as a canon review - is a first step to commitment to the character. This is why

the application also explicitly states the following under the header personality: ‘Please

consider here things such as habits, likes and dislikes, thought patterns, experiences and so

on’ (Luceti application, 2009). The section is divided in terms of strengths and weaknesses

with the note that a player should address these physically, mentally and emotionally. This is

followed by a request to include examples from the series.

After a player has decently applied with a character he can join. That means that

firstly, you make an account for your character under a LiveJournal name that befits him,

instead of a random one or a variation of your own nickname. For example, the smart teacher

from Tales of Symphonia, Raine, role-plays as Wise_Maiden while Emil is called

Ratatosk_Knight referring to his title in Dawn of the New World. Once a character has an

appropriate username and journal lay-out, a player adds the communities from Luceti (where

moderators post updates about the role-play) and all the characters to his friends page. This is

necessary so a player gets all the updates in his friends page and can communicate with other

players.

Then it becomes important to think about icons. A player can get 15 icons unless he

gets a paid account, then he gets additional icons each month. Some players take this

102

subscribing into consideration if they enjoy playing a character. These icons should represent

various facial expressions of a character to suit the role-play. It helps to have a smiling one, a

shocked one, an angry one and so forth. For some occasions role-players might swap a few of

the icons and put their old ones back after a few days. Being the only visual device in the role-

play the icons contribute to how a character is acted out so role-players give the choice of

icons quite some thought, track down screenshots and existing icons, adapt pictures and

upload those.

Finally, a player makes his first post with an introduction and the message that

everyone should add his character to their list. After all of those practicalities are dealt with, a

player is allowed to make his first in character post. The community operates through friends

pages of LiveJournal, so it is important that participants keep track of those that stop role-

playing or join. This system, rather than opting for a LiveJournal community system, has as a

benefit that all characters have their own blog where the interaction takes place. It is also

easier because the moderators use the community features for other things such as application

posts, character reserves (if a character is already played but you want it when the other player

stops) and general topics featuring the plot, guide lines and rules.

The friends page of LiveJournal is where the actual interaction takes place. By

checking only this list rather than one community it is also easy to see the main communities

and important posts therein, aside from the other character’s blogs. Next to the general

community run by the moderators, there is also an out of character community (Lucetiooc,

2009) where a new player can introduce himself or alert others when he is on a break with

role-playing. Aside from these two communities one can interact in character at the log

community (Lucetilogs, 2009) in third-person, notably for actions that require much

description rather than dialogues and interaction. Lastly one can access the fan community

(Lucetifans, 2009) for meta-discussions and art based on Luceti, both important though

slightly secondary features, notably the log community will be addressed later.

The interaction itself is also a very specific practice. Let me go into a few of its

features. Firstly, the interaction takes place as a dialogue between two characters and usually

not more. Out of character you can see all the replies characters have already made to each

other and maybe some are more interesting than the blog itself. However, mingling in other

people’s conversations is in most cases forbidden, since the journal function in Luceti works

more like text messaging from one character to the other. Some posts may be overheard by

others because characters (not the players) can talk through the journal, but even then it is

slightly uncommon to respond to a comment rather than to the first entry of the blog. The


103

point here is that the interface of Luceti is imagined through magical journals and characters

are actually unable to see each other’s textual comments. There are however loopholes in the

role-play, for instance, very smart characters can hack journals of others. Also, a character

does not have to behave to naive, it is assumed that they also live in the village and

communicate outside of the journals as well and are familiar with the latest news and

rumours.

Furthermore, the character’s interaction relies on the performance of its player.

LiveJournal blogs are highly topological, depending on the time and fictive place where one is

writing. The meaning of a work and the interaction are based on how often and when a player

posts. A player needs to be highly aware of this, certainly in a role-play community, where the

main readers are his fellow-players. One needs to adjust his time schedule to that of others.

Especially differences between time zones (e.g., European and North American) make this

difficult. Still, it becomes apparent from the role-play communities that those that stick

together are not from similar time-zones., though it would seem practical. Apparently their

interaction is based on other criteria, for instance what characters seem likely to befriend each

other. Adapting to others and being flexible becomes important then, to a degree that some

might role-play at work or during other chores simply because their fellow-players are online

then. Not checking the community frequently assures that a player misses out on interaction,

has a hard time tracking conversations or cannot keep up with the current events.

If in daily life a role-player encounters certain problems or is gone for a weekend, he

needs to state this, since this will affect his character. This is called a hiatus and it may be

because the player is sick, needs to ace exams, has a holiday or has a lot of work at his job.

Most fictional blogs, aside from role-play blogs, need to state this because readers depend on

the updates (Friedrich, 2007, p. 38-39). In Luceti this is dealt with very specifically. A player

can allow his character to be kidnapped in the game. The Malnosso then run experiments on

him, which may or may not show off depending on the player’s choices. Ergo, it is often very

convincing if a hiatus is solved in the game as well. Luceti offers options in this, but not all

role-plays do: in that case a player has to make it clear in character and out of character that

he will be gone for some time. All of this aims to stage a credible story world without

practical issues. If social matters are in the way, the player needs to solve these fictionally too.

Similarly the leaving of characters has to be explained in the game as well. Out of

character a player may think he has lost connection with a character at Luceti or lost the

motivation to role-play altogether. In the game the player’s characters get send back to their

home worlds again but how that works is something that should still be explained through the

104

main plot. No one is actually sure of what happened to them. More awkward, sometimes

characters come back from another point of the timeline. In actual life this is because the role-

player that played a character dropped out and the character became available again for other

fans that wanted to play him or her. Within Luceti other characters may notice this and

discuss it, note the dialogue at the first image in the appendix (image A). The characters

speculate why it is that characters leave and return without a recollection of ever having been

in Luceti. Naturally characters being ‘sent back home’ is a convenient argument to explain

that characters leave, but in terms of plot all of this needs to be negotiated, much like the short

hiatus mentioned before.

In these cases it also helps to be in touch with some of your fellow-players through

your personal LiveJournal, Aim or MSN messenger. They can brief you if something

happened in the game, since summarizes of the main events, happenings or updates of the plot

are rare. For the convenience of some, certain characters may choose to summarize great

events or plot twists that involved many characters since they cost so much time to read. For

those that had a small hiatus or are less involved with events, it becomes difficult to see the

plot development of the general Luceti storyline and Malnosso. Characters that are friendly,

social, involved with the community and bright sometimes aid by making a separate thread

stating all the facts in pointers. This is how some practical issues of having a large plot with

many writer-players are tackled, because being involved in such a large collaborative project

can sometimes be problematic.

Another important element of LiveJournal role-plays or other fictional blogs is that the

interface is usually made very explicit. As Betsy Friedrich (2007) writes in her thesis on

blogs: ‘Blogs are also usually fictional objects through their self-referentially. Authors

frequently give their characters a reason to be blogging, the blog does not exist randomly’.

This dimension is indeed apparent in many of these LiveJournal communities where the

characters have an actual journal to communicate through. The blog function needs to be

explained: otherwise the written comments and posts as a medium would make no sense. I

can imagine that in some communities the posts are imagined as actual face to face dialogues,

but during a preliminary search on LiveJournal I found none of these.

In Luceti all the characters are equipped with a journal when they first arrive. The

Luceti FAQ (2008) describes this as follows: ‘It’s basically like a written live journal. A little

picture, like your icon, will show up next to your comments on other’s entries. This way,

others can see how your character is reacting to something. They can see a smile, a wave, or a

look of disgust. Also, the journal is magic, so it can imprint your voice, if you tell it to.’ A


105

player can write in this journal, which is the normal mode of communicating or choose to

record voice posts by adding ‘/voice’ as an indication in the title of the entry or comment.

Because Luceti is also a story world where characters live, players may want to have

real interaction without the blog. Since it is a blog-based RPG, however, this has to be

mediated via LiveJournal as well. Characters can talk face to face in Luceti via action posts,

that use an ‘/action’ tag in the title (see picture above). Then the self-referential level is

undermined and substituted by the blog as a virtual representation for actual communication.

This second level of using the blog allows a player to write down posts that assume both

characters are near each other and actually talking and doing things. Descriptions of how the

characters respond to each other’s presence are added then or how they perform actions

together. Using the blog as face to face communication can sometimes seep through other

conversations as well. For instance by small descriptive comments role-players make to

describe a characters feelings, or by out of character posts stating something personal.

Blogs are a very specific medium. Due to their interaction and multimedial aspects

they cannot easily be printed (Friedrich, 2007, p. 22). Role-playing communities that rely on

heavy interaction on the blog cannot be printed because they are not sequential at all. The

story at these communities is fragmentary, a-chronological and takes place at many blogs.

Many conversations occur at the same time and while new threads are made non-stop, some

interaction may run for days in one older thread. LiveJournal cannot depict many comments at

once so a user has to click frequently to see more comments at longer threads. This can be

quite impractical for readers since each comment is also put slightly to the right (note the

images in the appendix) which results in comments going off-screen at some point.

From all of this it appears that role-players make very creative use of LiveJournal’s

generic features to stage a large story world. Other options of LiveJournal are also

alternatively applied in the role-play. For instance, there is a feature to add tags at the bottom

of your post. Role-players add witty descriptions here and update the tags by adding those

they have conversed with. The titles are used in a similar fashion. They state for instance

whether the post is a voice post or action post (if it says nothing it is simply written and

mediated through the journal by writing). However, the comments below also have similar

titles, sometimes featuring these tags. Usually they are left blank, because it is assumed the

dialogue continues in the same fashion as the earlier posts. Then role-players may add jokes

as a title such as depicted at image B, when the authors use the text box to refer to typos.

106

Making conversation: Writing and style in role-plays

You have just applied with your character and made an introductory post. Some of the

villagers might approach you and pass the Luceti guide containing the basic information a

character needs to manage there. Maybe someone will even tour you around. It is time to start

interacting on one of the various blogs that are uploaded a day or on your own. You notice

that it takes some genuine effort in the beginning. You start to wonder: How do you write a

character at best? In what ways does this differ from what I have written before? Is role-

playing like other textual fiction or not? In this section I shall touch upon various authorial

features of role-playing: the narration, the style and the criticism.

A story with so many authors is difficult to categorize or capture in existing terms

such as co-authorship. Like other online games Luceti is inhabited by many characters that all

interact in this town (259 players, counted 17 June 2009). In terms of writing a practice as

role-playing is hardly the same as staging a more conventional story with one or several

authors. These games feature all the unities a narrative is supposed to have: a plot, characters

and a setting. What it lacks is a main point of view or narrator. Each player forms his own

perspective of the story and selectively reads threads. Luceti is not the same for everyone,

which also makes this problematic to analyze as a scholar who reads more than a general

player would and does not participate in the role-play himself. The numerous voices and lack

of a main perspective are the main difference between these role-plays and regular stories.

However, that there is not one perspective but many does not mean a role-play lacks

the clear perspective that we know from existing narratives. When analyzing the texts at

Luceti it becomes clear they rely distinctively on narration. The experience however differs

per character. The community as such is constructed out of stories told in character blogs:

each of these gives a different account of the story world with new interaction and events. It

would however be too easy to say that these blogs and their comments are strictly written in

first-person. In fact, the author and character often heavily overlap in terms of narration in a

role-play. The perspective here is in a strange mixture between performances of the character

and the broader knowledge of a player. Importantly a player might add things in terms of tags,

titles or little descriptions which cannot be equated with the character but are in fact out of

character. These can be written in a third-person fashion to elaborate on a character or as

remarks that clearly address the other player. The writing can become very hybrid by this. See

for instance image C, the start of a conversation, where the descriptions add an ironical

element


107

The third-person descriptions in role-playing are in general brief and placed between

brackets. In some cases they become longer, notably when a character cannot talk, when

something emotional is happening or when the action post requires much description. This

can result in a very prose-like third-person style. Let me illustrate via another conversation of

a long thread of similar posts (see image D). Here the posting almost becomes prose because

one character cannot talk and the other tries to make effort. The writing thus becomes very

descriptive and the whole thread starts to read as a novel. Sentences as: ‘There might be a

softness in Raine’s gaze as she debates the blanket situation’ are prosaic and subjective,

depicting her inner thoughts. This kind of writing in a role-play has little difference with

regular fanfiction in terms of style.

Aside from these descriptions in tags that are embedded in first-person interaction, the

community has a specific log-community. Logging aims to describe an event between two or

several characters at fullest. Here everything is written in third-person. The narration is purely

prosaic with dialogues that are interwoven in the narrative (see image E). This point of view

makes logging rhetorically different from action posts that embed brackets and a small font

size for the more descriptive parts on occasions. Note the first lines of this log (Lucetilogs,

2009): ‘Scorching desert air whipped across his face as Kratos flew towards the ruins. He'd

never flown such a long distance ever since he came to this world; he had forgotten what a

rush it was to fly with only the mana on his back to support him. It was one of the only things

he liked about being an angel’.

Some communities feature logs in first-person: these are often the ones that do not

have action post abilities and use the logs for that. The decision to use either action posts or

logs is at Luceti a rather personal one (also discussed by members at Luceti OOC community,

2009). A log has the benefit that it allows a player to reflect on the inner-thoughts of a

character because it is fully third-person. The text can be as descriptive and long as you want

it to be, in contrast to regular blog conversations. Action posts are conducted quicker and

more direct, which is why some players prefer these. Logging consumes a lot of time and a

player always has to wait for the co-author, which is also why logs are usually conducted with

only two or three people. Though logs hypothetically can tell large stories co-authored by

several players, in practice a player has to wait too long and looses his motivation.

Writing a log can be compared to traditional types of collaborative writing in which

both authors in turn take one point of view. We have seen examples of this in regular

fanfiction last chapter; I would argue that the log-function in style is similar to fanfiction.

Interestingly it also features similar pointers and credits as fanfiction: stating the characters or

108

pairing it; a summary and even an age rating. A disclaimer is not added in Luceti, which is

deemed unnecessary in a roleplaying game. Still one has to wonder why in fanfiction this is so

heavily underlined and why role-players hardly seem to wonder about legalities. The writing

practice is after all nearly the same, though it seems these games have more liberty in the eyes

of the actors.

Perhaps this is also because author does not matter in role-playing as much as in

fanfiction, which is more related to conventional authorship and stories that could have been

printed. What is important in a role-play is a character posing as an author under whose

nickname everything is published. It is already assumed that everyone knows this is a fictional

product based on other texts that can be found in the profile. That is not to say that role-

players never get charged. Caddell (2009) describes how a few Mad Men role-players at

Twitter were banned by the studio, but ended up working together with the creators to

promote the series. I addressed similar cases in chapter 2 regarding fanfiction and fan

websites: eventually companies realize fan activity is a benefit for them.

In terms of style the conversations at a regular role-play community are very

dependent on the character. The personality of the character in the source-text and the

performance of the role-player are linked. It is essential to write and interact like a character

would in the actual text. A shy character will not approach others that much and talk briefly

and softly. Here a smaller font size can at times be used then to emphasize this intonation.

Similarly an arrogant character will not approach others either and might react stern or bossy.

Social characters will respond to a lot of blogs.

Sometimes a character proves to be unsuitable for role-playing. Corinne Lamerichs

explained in an interview that she had a lot of fun role-playing emperor Kuzco from The

Emperor’s New Groove. However, as an obnoxious and arrogant emperor he would never

interact with others because he deems them as unworthy. Because others had to approach him

the interaction got limited. Socially a player depends on his character. It is not an option to

stretch him too much unless progress is made in Luceti through various events which takes a

lot of time and does not suit all characters.

Occasionally the mode of typing will reflect the way characters talk in a source-text.

Luceti for instance has a Tia Dalma from Pirates of the Carribean that converses like this: Is

dere something wrong wit' de river? (Andallaretrue, 25 May, 2009). Playing with

pronunciation and text like this represents a more accurate image of the character rather than

typing it out normally. A writing style in the role-play has to befit a character’s traits. Most

important here is staying in character both in written style, in terms of behaviour and in terms


109

of plot/choices. If a fan role-player is criticized it will often be on these grounds. Like in

fanfiction being in character is a core value. As the Luceti application (2008) states: ‘we want

to know that you can really get into this character's head, that you can identify what motivates

them as if they were real people. We want to see that you have put a lot of thought into this,

and that you really have a desire to do this character justice. In the same breath, please try to

have fun with this part! You finally get to talk someone's ear off about a character you want to

play; take advantage of it!’

Furthermore, when making conversation it is important to leave openings for your

fellow-players. A player’s posts have to be slightly open so that others can raise questions or

broaden on the narrative. Making decisions for other players is strictly forbidden and

described as Godmodding because you ‘play God’ by disabling the other player’s reaction

(e.g., Luceti rules, 2009). More positively a player can have the best interaction when leaving

gaps and stimulating the interaction. This was also brought to my attention by role-player

Wendelien Meijer (personal contact) who had bad experiences with players that immediately

closed her off by never adding new information to their writing.

Other points of critique in role-playing are more concerned with the general activity of

a user: frequently being online and sociable towards other characters really helps. The players

that interact with a wide range of characters appear to get the most comments, because they

are very visible and have a lot of acquaintances in Luceti that will respond. The more a player

invests in a character and the more plausible he does this, the more he will be recognized as a

good role-player. Naturally some fans will not pay that much attention to how the character is

portrayed, because they are happy the character is in Luceti at all. Characters that are popular

in real life do not necessarily seem to draw more attention though. This is also because

players in these games easily group together online and offline in terms of fandom, how long

they have been at Luceti and in terms of quality. Because players drop out of role-plays pretty

fast and have the tendency to put characters on a hold for some time, users of the game are

also a bit alert when interacting. Role-playing practices are valued based on the quality and

quantity of the interaction and the representation of the source-text. Writing as such is judged

on those grounds rather than inventive exploration of the story world, originality or the plot

movements in the community itself. The main plot after all is the one that the moderators

establish and that the characters try to explore.

To check if they are role-playing well, players usually have a general evaluation post

at their LiveJournal (concrit post) where others can evaluate them. These mainly state if

readers/players like the portrayal of the character and if something should be different.

110

Critique is thus equated with the value of doing justice to a character: in terms of balancing

between the source-text and the game, transforming the fiction, everything should be just

alright, but the performativity is important too. Socializing enough and with the right

characters is crucial to role-playing. In contrast to fanfiction, reviews hardly ever address

grammar, and in general the linguistic level of the participants is far higher. Perhaps this is

also necessary if one wants to comment rapidly on other people’s blogs. In fanfiction, we saw

in the previous chapter, readers hardly ever interfere with the plot or give suggestions of

where a story should head. An author does not care much for these suggestions either, unless

he specifically asks for input, which often happens only in those fanfics that stimulate

audience participation because it is part of the concept. In role-playing you rely on your

fellow-players and often are in contact with some of these. You might show them a post in a

chat before actually posting it. Note for instance this fragment of an interview with role-player

and fanfiction author Corinne Lamerichs (Meowzy-chan).

CL: [about fanfiction] We used to have some readers that inquired about the plot,

but not anymore.

NL: That does not happen.

CL: No, but with role-playing it does.

NL: I guess that is different because you have to consult since you are in a group.

CL: Even if you have nothing to with them, they will ask for critique.

NL: That is interesting!

CL: They will say: ‘Think it is IC if Raine would do this or that once?’ and I say

‘yes’ or ‘no’.

NL: And are these people from the Tales fandom then?

CL: Yes.

Gaining a reputation as a specifically good role-player is more difficult. A player might be

recognized by peers as highly capable, but as we have seen this always depends on more than

just the quality of the writing. Role-playing is heavily related to the community, cannot be

published or read outside of that platform. Participants do not perceive themselves as authors

but as players. Sure, one’s skills increase during role-playing: the practice stimulates the

active imagination and engagement with fiction and characters. Much like fanfiction it will

also increase the linguistic capabilities of its participants. Those that are not of a high level yet

can reach it through peer evaluation, trying out different characters and learning by doing.

However, as a genre it cannot grow outside the communities. It is limited collaborative fiction

meant for entertainment of its own audience. Some random readers may stumble upon role-


111

plays or track a certain character, but in general role-plays attract only other role-players.

Those that are considered good role-players only have that reputation there, and if they want

to write for a larger audience, they would have to choose another genre of fiction to

accomplish this.

Performing characters: The live audience, gestures and the mise-en-scene

Blogs at Luceti are thus all about performing a character adequately and certain values are

attached to this. We have seen that a writer has to stay true to a character in various aspects

and can creatively use his blog to explore a character even more through icons, tags and titles.

Performative authorship becomes a kind of acting here that has a theatrical dimension. While

we looked at the writing practice of role-plays, the commonalities between a role-play and a

performance still need to be defined properly. In this section we will see how the relation

between an audience and the narrator can be described in a role-play.

By Janet Murray (1997) MUD’s and other role-plays have been defined as a spectacle,

a theatrical concept hinting at the relation between performance and writing: ‘Spectacle is

used to create exultation, to move us into another order of perception, and to fix us in the

moment’ (p. 112). Through this play the audience becomes immersed in the story. Digital

environments try to stimulate immersion through participation, which increases the attention

and the sensational experience of the audience (id.). The goal is then to make the immersion

in the virtual/story world last as long as possible. The process is performative not only in its

acts but also in its protagonists: the masks and costumes from the history of theatre here

become virtual avatars, playable characters or graphical figures (id., p. 113). The ideas

Murray touches upon suit this case-study when going into the performative elements of role-

playing. This performativity can be seen at various levels in the writing: the immediate, live

audience; the gestures and body; the importance of place (or stage).

Firstly, performative authorship in role-playing is bound by time when making

conversation with one’s fellow-players. The blogs are highly temporal: reading and writing

lack the gap that they have in print-culture and the audience is allowed to respond. As such

blogs become more immediate. Following a blog or engaging in a role-playing community

means experiencing and reacting to what is going on at the moment. In that sense role-playing

blogs feature a live audience. If you read a fictional blog later to catch up the experience of

the text will differ and there is no need to respond anymore, meaning that the dimension of

active reading gets lost. ‘What this means for the writer is that blogging becomes something

closer to performance art like theatre or dance’ (Friedrich, 2007, p. 41). The distance between

112

reader-writer is limited in a role-play where players respond to players nonstop. Francesca

Coppa (2007) classifies this element of acting in front of a live audience as performative or

theatrical as well, but relates it mostly to regular fanfiction (pp. 238-243). However, a

different kind of relationship is established in a role-play compared to fanfiction, where a

reader can still reply to fiction published years ago. Whereas FanFiction.net relies on a kind of

active audience of writers that reply at any time and give feedback, Luceti relies on immediate

activity of its residents. The live audience becomes more direct here.

Because the blogs and their replies are time-bounded a role-player has to improvise.

Much like in performance art the audience (here, players) will respond in unexpected ways

and a storyteller is forced to adapt to the situation. Like an actor who stands in front of an

unfamiliar crowd, role-players have to improvise when interacting with characters they have

not met yet. The player may make certain mistakes because of the spontaneity of the

interaction in terms of grammar or plotting, but that is inevitable. Perhaps the flaws in role-

playing even make it more authentic since a character that writes in a blog can also make

mistakes at times. In a large story world as Luceti both character and author have to interact,

plan and improvise to establish social connections.

The interaction has a specific performative dimension, but it is hard to depict that at

best. Luceti hovers between conversation – regular, spontaneous talk which incorporates

gestures - and dialogue, written and preplanned texts (for this division see also Friedrich,

2007, pp. 46-55). To an outsider a textual role-play might account for dialogue, since it is

written and revised. Nonetheless I would argue that it is also similar to conversation, since it

has a clear performative dimension featuring improvisation, time-bounded features, gestures

and enactment, which are elements of conversation. However, how can interaction that is in

essence without a body feature gestures that underline the performative dimension of role-

playing?

At first hand it seems a role-play incorporates textual indications of the body or

gestures rather than actual gestures. These signs can be seen as something similar to gestures,

as text that is imagined to be a character expressing himself. For instance, Tronstad (2004)

emphasizes that MUD’s are based on mere text that is misread on purpose, again underlining

the symbolism that is at stake in a role-play. Performativity depends on make-belief here: ‘I

know that there are real persons behind the characters, but I also know that unless I have met

these people in real life, my interaction with them is more theatrical than real. I imagine them’

(p. 1). Through textual indications a character is envisioned. The constituted story world is

fictional and virtual, differently read and imagined by everyone. Descriptions depict


113

expressions and behaviour, ergo, add a performative dimension to storytelling (see also image

D) that helps establish the characters.

However, what a player envisions in a fan role-play also relies heavily on text outside

the role-play: the source-texts the characters are based on. The source-text provides a kind of

additional idea of the story aside from the role-play. Some of the characters in a role-play may

be unfamiliar to a player because he has not read the source-text. He will experience and read

a character differently, based mostly on the role-play. Nonetheless, even a player unfamiliar

with the text interprets a character via icons that belong to the source-text. Francesca Coppa

(2007) righteously links the performativity to the body of the characters. The characters are

used as actors, moulds, for an imaginary theatre for fans. A fandom role-play bases itself the

bodies of media characters; in book fandoms this might differ. In Luceti book-related

protagonists are given life through cast-by’s: the body of an actual actor or model is casted as

the character. This idea of casting media characters can be related to role-playing very well:

the fanfiction author becomes a director as well that makes actors perform and is concerned

with the overview. At the same time he is like an actor that becomes the character.

A quick look at a LiveJournal role-play shows that we are not dealing with merely

textual relations. The body of the character is not just an envisioned by textual references to

the source-text. Next to descriptions and tags a player has an interface with icons that

contribute to the story-telling. Selecting icons in a role-play is very important since they have

to reflect many states of mind of a character and a regular player only has fifteen he can use.

The process of making and selecting icons is done very careful and when icons are used well,

they can severely change the way text is read. As primary visual content these icons are

chosen deliberately to represent certain gestures or attitudes. Like a storyteller makes use of

his hands or facial expressions to underline a story, a role-player uses icons to represent the

narrating character. Note for instance image B where the first role-player used an overly

serious icon depicting authority and strictness in a contemplative, secure pose. Compare that

with her reaction which is slightly arrogant, her hand movement and the eyebrows.

Making use of icons creatively is very important since it can assure a pacing in the

interaction and different reactions. For instance, at some points characters may only post an

icon rather than text to show a certain reaction. A role-player for instance can make a post of

three or more comments in a row so he can switch icons to depict different gestures or moods.

Note for instance image F and the continuation of the conversation in image B. Here the male

character is represented through three comments to depict different gestures, which are

followed up nicely by female character Azula who has two icons from a similar frame

114

depicting a different reaction. Posting in a row is not a taboo here since it can reflect the

attitude of a character better. The icons can then form a kind of animation due to the use of

similar frames in which the expression of a character changes.

The performative author also relies on place, be it virtual or actual. When adopting a

role and behaving in a certain way, the place is similar to the stage that affects the performer.

For fans these practices are not just associated with one place, such as LiveJournal, but

dispersed over various virtual and actual places that are related to a fandom or text (see also

Sandvoss, 2005, pp. 44-67; Hills, 2001, pp. 144-158). Aside from the actual platforms that

one associates with the role-play, a source-text and the fandom, the fictional setting matters.

This is the place that a player imagines for the story. Note how Luceti is constructed as a

specific village in which all of the players live. The characters tell and perform, but the setting

provides a background that is necessary for envisioning the actions. The setting is virtual in

two ways: it makes use of a platform which is coded (LiveJournal, the first level) and embeds

a story world in that system (second level).

Though role-playing is performed in a mediated, virtual space, a player takes daily life

into account as well, by linking out of character statements to in character behaviour. For

instance, if a player knows the other player will not be online for some time, there will be no

action in the story world. The virtual and actual are entwined here. Role-players consult each

other, keep track of each other’s situation through various platforms, interact when it is

possible and rely on each other socially. What matters when analyzing a role-play is the way

these platforms touch upon each other and how a story is staged through various platforms

and texts, rather than one community.

Between gaming and writing

To summarize role-playing is a specific kind of writing that is not just transformative or

original: it is best described as performative authorship. The practice aims to act out a text and

stage a story in which each player can take part. The case-study shows that electronic

platforms as LiveJournal can be creatively used for new ways to write and co-author stories.

As Janet Murray (1997) remarks: ‘The computer is providing us with a new stage for the

creation of participatory theatre. We are gradually learning to do what actors do, to enact

emotionally authentic experiences that we know are not ‘real’ (p. 125). Role-plays succeed in

creating large collaborative projects written by and for many fans. The players get into an

existing character’s mind set and flesh him out through dialogue and description. This make-

belief or symbolism, imagined through text, shapes the role-play.


115

A role-play is distinctive by enabling a writerly discourse in which the author is in fact

absent. When players refer to themselves they use terms as player or ‘mun’, hardly ever will

any of them describe this practice as writing or define himself as a writer or author. In general

role-plays are viewed as games mediated through text. Writing abilities, skills and narration

are deemed important nonetheless, which depicts an authorial awareness though the actors

might not describe it as such. The values attached to writing are slightly different from

fanfiction as prose or scripts where the author has more input and at points is viewed as an

actual writer with the attached cultural connotations. Therefore ownership is a more important

discourse when dealing with regular fanfiction than role-plays. Nonetheless there is a sense of

emotional ownership in role-plays especially if one is attached to the character he performs or

has played a long time. The players themselves see the role-play as an entertaining activity

with an emphasis on the social aspects, though in practice it is also a type of writing that

requires typical imaginative and textual skills.

How freely an author can write a character in a role-play is a different matter, just as

how much input he can have on the story. Though role-plays are very open at some points,

they can also be a restriction because the emphasis on being in character is that high.

Furthermore they are restrictive in terms of plot: Luceti has a main story line, but it advances

slowly, which creates a game that depends more on events and interaction than on the main

narrative. The potential and wish to create a large participatory story is there, but the progress

is slow and regulated by the moderators.

Interestingly the author is not only absent when players talk about the activity but also

in the practice itself. A character is documented in a role-play: he is preserved in these

fictional blogs, not the author who is harder to locate. The author here is a double: both a

character in the narrative and a narrator at the same time. Last chapter we have seen that

fanfiction personalizes characters and stories through the use of self-insertions, crossovers

(with other texts or with daily life) and Mary Sues. In a role-play daily life mingles with

fiction through the use of the blog system and characters going online. The characters are

personalized and the author is rendered absent rather than present. Importantly, in the

fanfiction surrounding Tales of Symphonia, it is often the other way around when the fan-

author enters as a protagonist in the story world (see chapter 3). The use of systems as

LiveJournal can thus establish a very different, though just as personal, author-character

relationship when compared to regular fanfiction.

116


117

Chapter 5

Submitting and sharing: Undermining the author?

In this research I tried to depict the authorial practices within fanfiction and show how notions

of authorship influence the text and its writers. The thesis addressed this via the overarching

question: How does fanfiction redefine what authorship means in our modern society? The

role of the author in fanfiction seems to be a specific construction when compared to original

fiction or other fields of writing. In this conclusion I shall answer the research question

briefly. Firstly I shall focus on the specific transformative and performative practices of fan-

authors and depict their overlap. Secondly I shall discuss the identity of the fan-author and

how his practices construct an alternative idea of authorship.

I analyzed fanfiction as a transformative practice to show how authors each give their

own spin to an existing narrative. Transformative as a concept applies to all fan practices in

which fans derive new texts or practices from existing ones. This proved to be a helpful

concept to explore one of the specific problems of fan writing. Fans hover between existing

material and the wish to add something original or personal to that story world without

disrupting it with their touch. This paradox becomes apparent many times when fans reflect

on their own work. On the one hand fans express the wish to stay true to the source-text and

reject certain fallacies (e.g., Mary Sues); on the other hand it is important for them to find

their own voice or style and add something to the plot or the characters.

Transformative authorship becomes a more problematic concept when we are dealing

with transmedia storytelling: stories that are told across various platforms and texts. Here the

source-text is already transformative to some degree in a sense that various production teams

make their own adaptations or plenary stories. In the case-study the transmedial elements of

the source-text posed less of a problem than I had presumed. This was mostly because the

videogame was still the dominant text on which the franchise and plenary texts were based. I

can envision that a case-study on a transmedial text with several primary texts would have had

a different outcome, since each new text then provides a new narrative or subplot rather than

additional background information. It should also be taken into account that the case-study I

dealt with was Japanese and that some texts are only available in Japan or for fans that know

where to look online, which excludes parts of the Western fandom.

As for the performative dimension of fanfiction, this becomes very apparent in role-

playing. Here a player relies on the source-text to make an adequate portrayal of his character.

118

The performance is not just plain textual but also incorporates visual elements such as fonts

sizes, icons and the LiveJournal lay-out. In the case-study various features of LiveJournal are

included to add to the realism of the story world and character. All players contribute to the

story though the moderators assure the main plot. Though co-authorship can be established in

regular fanfiction, it is less common and often the influence of the readers is limited to

reviews and beta reading with minor suggestions.

Performative and transformative elements can be found in all fanfiction and the

discourses surrounding it. Fanfiction is much like role-playing with its emphasis of staying

true to characters and writing them as fitting as one can. Indeed the concepts ‘in character’

and ‘out of character’, which are actually related to role-playing, are here used as ways to

criticize fanfiction in general and depict fallacies in various fan texts. Importantly, fanfiction

comes in all kinds of formats and stories that touch upon each other. With its emphasis on

dialogues the text in role-playing has much in common with fanfiction in the form of scripts.

Fanfiction written as prose resembles third-person logs in role-playing. Stories with

thumbnails hosted at personal sites look like a role-play, but are only written by one author.

The genres, formats and values of written fanfiction relate to each other, but are still

not quite the same. During this research I focused specifically on fanfiction and role-playing,

but these practices are part of a wide range of fan activities in which certain conventions and

values are created. Though it was necessary for my analysis of authorship to distinguish

between practices, there were also close resemblances at points. Still, viewing all of these

texts as merely fanfiction - one genre - causes analytical problems. Chapter 4 for instance

made clear that role-playing is a very specific practice mediated through text (in this case

blogs) that involves more play and collaboration.

Performative and transformative writing are not limited to fanfiction but are practices

that can be found in all forms of fiction. Even original fiction is slightly transformative in a

sense that writers rely on conventions and existing texts that they are familiar with when

staging their own text. No text can really be constructed from scratch. Elements of the

performative in fanfiction can also be found in original fiction, for instance consistency in

characterization and emotional realism are also important when creating a new story. The

difference is that a writer has developed these characters himself and that certain authorial

practices for fans (e.g., rereading a source-text; interpreting a character) are only a minor

problem here. Essential in this research is the understanding that fans are not just writers in

fanfiction, but also readers and interpreters of a source-text. At points these roles conflict

because certain prevalent opinions regarding a series exclude others.


119

Throughout this research I wondered how the author was positioned in this derivative

fiction. He seemingly disappears from the discourse as a genius, someone who creates

original, expressive art. Fan-authors themselves hardly fit into the print-cultural paradigm of

authorship which emphasizes the single individual writer. This seems to stage a subversive,

self-aware type of amateur fiction, but this is not true in all senses. The paradigm of print-

culture and the individual author is still active here when fans refer to authorship and

underline the author behind the source-text. The actual author for them is frequently the

person or team who established the original text and to whom they pay homage with their

own texts. In general they do not perceive themselves as actual authors because they work

with material that does not belong to them. Their text is linked to an existing one; therefore

they can never have the entire credit or feel like they are authors in a true sense of the word.

The authors of the source-text own their material in all ways and have the ultimate say about

the characters.

By contrast the fans feel they only own part of a text and experience their writing

sometimes as slightly illegal. They are fan-authors who often emphasize their identity as a fan

rather than their identity as a writer. Online this can be seen in the fashioning of their profiles,

their author’s notes and nicknames. Fans want to show they are part of a fan community. This

is also how their fiction should be read. Fanfiction as such is selective and exists out of genres

that each draw a specific audience. Fans will also be tempted to read fiction that is much like

their own or which confirms their ideas of a certain series. The readers here know the material

and browse the internet looking for specific stories. These writers are part of the fan

community surrounding an existing text and cannot be equated with other writing practices.

Fans read and write for other fans and this creates a selective circulation of the text. Most of

them do not consider their practice unusual, though it becomes clear from fan’s discussions

about their fiction that they want to grow and become better at it. Though they are self-aware

and take writing very serious, they do not fashion themselves as authors.

In terms of writing this is not to say that fanfiction does not grant many opportunities

and skills for writing or requires certain capacities, but that these practices should not be

disconnected from their context. For instance, in all fanfiction it is deemed important to write

an existing character well. The fan-author has to understand the characters, their motives and

the story to assure this. In this sense he also focuses on other elements than a writer who

develops his own story world and characters. A fan-author is always a thorough interpreter,

even during the writing process, which forms an interesting difference between fan-authors

120

and authors of original content. This becomes a value specifically in the context of fanfiction

where one has to live up to an existing text.

Importantly, fans appear to be subversive writers and interpreters. They open existing

texts up to new material, provide them with countless interpretations and establish a

flourishing literary culture. However, at the same time they reconfirm conventional ideas of

authorship through their practices which are all seen as contributions to an existing text.

Where it would seem that fans themselves have an alternative idea of what authorship could

mean, this is not shown in their own discourse. Though I analyze their practices as a specific

type of writing, they take this for granted as part of their culture but perceive it as something

lower, a fan activity that is not the real thing. Still, these unique writing practices and

communities that fans establish are important to research in order to define author-reader-text

relations nowadays and to depict their diversity.

Being an author is perhaps not a status writers will give themselves. It is an

ideological, cultural construction that we use to classify texts, as well as the person that

created them (Foucault, 1984). As such authorship is a fairly new concept, one that became

necessary due to copyright (e.g., Landow, 2006, p. 102). It is a matter of literary history where

texts are classified and defined according to the person who wrote them. Authorship is a

notion that results from linear, printed texts that are recognized by the distance with their

audience and their relation to formal critics. These frozen texts form a contrast with the vivid

textual practices within fan communities.

Fanfiction is a matter of circulating texts and producing derivative fiction. The stories

are a shared good and highly intertextual when compared to original fiction. The reworking

and transforming in fan practices resembles oral cultures, where stories are always retold with

a personal touch to them and where every myth can be elaborated. Borrowed material is here

recombined into a new narrative. At the heart of these stories is the wish to pay tribute to

existing fiction. Though fanfiction is derived from other fiction it is no less creative or

entertaining. Where it may be easy to dismiss these stories nowadays as second-handed or

even stolen, fanfiction is very active online practice with its own standards on originality. A

wealth of new cultural material is created by fans that should not be underestimated. Fiction

has always relied on other fiction. Fans make this all the more visible.


121

Bibliography Aarseth, E. (1997). Cybertext: Perspectives on Ergodic Literature. Baltimore, London: The John Hopkins University Press. Aarseth, E. (1999, 16 December). ‘Hypertext, Cybertext, Digital Literature, Medium: An interview with Espen Aarseth’. Dichtung Digital. Last accessed 25 March 2009: http://www. brown.edu/Research/dichtung-digital/Interviews/Aarseth-16-Dez-99/index.htm Atwood, M. (2002). Negotiating with The Dead: A Writer on Writing. Cambridge: Cambridge UP. Bacon-Smith, C. (1992). Enterprising Women: Television Fandom and the Creation of Popular Myth. Philadelphia: University of Pennsilvania Press. Bailey, S. (2005). Media Audiences and Identity: Self-Construction in the Fan Experience. New York: Palgrave. Barlow, J.P. (1995). Is There a There in Cyberspace? Last accessed April, 2009: http://w2.eff.org/Misc/Publications/John_Perry_Barlow/HTML/utne_community.html

Barthes, R. (1977). ‘The Death of the Author’. In: Image, Music, Text. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://www.vahidnab.com/author.pdf Benjamin, W. (2004). The Storyteller. Last accessed 28 February, 2009: http:// www.slo-ught.org/files/downloads/events/SF_1331-Benjamin.pdf (Original work published in 1936) Birkerts, S. (2006). The Gutenberg Elegies. (First edition: 1994). New York: Faber and Faber. Bolter, J. D. & Grusin, R. (1999). Remediation: Understanding New Media. Cambridge: The MIT Press. Bootz, P. (2005). ‘The Problem of Form. Transitoire Observable’. Dichtung Digital. Last accessed 12 May, 2009: http://www.brown.edu/Research/dichtung-digital/2005/1/Bootz /index.htm Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (2006). ‘Works in Progress’. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland. Busse, K. (2006). ‘My Life is a WIP on my LJ: Slashing the Slasher and the Reality of Celebrity and Internet Performances’. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan

122

Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland. Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble. Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York/ London: Routledge. Caddell, B. (2009). Becoming a Mad Man. Last accessed 12 February, 2009: http://wearesterlingcooper.com/ Chander, A. & Sunder, M. (2007). ‘Everyone’s a Superhero: A Cultural Theory of ‘Mary Sue’ Fan Fiction as Fair Use’. In: UC Davis Legal Studies Research paper Series (2007, May), no. 110, p. 597-626. Coppa, F. (2006). ‘Writing Bodies in Space’: Media Fan Fiction as Theatrical Performance. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland, pp. 225-244. De Mul, J. (2008, 17 May). ‘Digitale mens zoekt aura in dataïsme’. De Volkskrant, p. 5. Dena, C. (2007, 10 March). ‘Patterns in Cross-Media Interaction Design: It’s Much More than a URL’. Cross-Media Entertainment. Last accessed 2 March: http://www.cross-media-entertainment.com Eco, U. (1990). ‘Cassablanca: Cult Movies and Intertextual Collage’. In: Travels in Hyperreality (2nd ed.), (H. B. Jovanovich, trans.). New York: Harvest Books, pp. 197-211. (Original work published in 1973) Elliott, K. (2004). ‘Literary Film Adaptation and the Form/Content Dilemma’. In: Ryan, M.l. (2004, ed.). Narrative Across Media. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, pp. 220-243. Fiske, J. (1989). Understanding Popular Culture. London: Routledge. Fiske, J. & Hartley, J. (2003). Reading Television (2nd edition). London: Routledge. Foucault, M. (1984). ‘What is an author?’ In: Rainbow, P. (Ed.) (1984). The Foucault Reader. New York: Pantheon Books, p. 101-120. (Original work published in 1969) Friedlander, B. (2008). ‘The Internet Versus Books: A Peaceful Coexistence’. LA Times. Last accessed 6 March 2009: http://www.latimes.com/features/books/la-ca-gutenberg9-2008-nov09,0,6069729.story Friedrich, B. (2007). Fictional Blogs: How Digital Narratives are Changing the Way We Read and Write. Last accessed 3 March 2009: http://centerleft.net/journals/betsy/documents/ FictionalBlogs.pdf


123

Gray, J. (2006) Watching With The Simpsons: Television, Parody and Intertextuality. New York: Routledge. Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (2007). ‘Introduction: Why study fans?’ In: Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (red.). (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press, p. 1-16. Green, S., Jenkins, C. & Jenkins, H. (1998). ‘Normal female interest in men bonking’. In: Jenkins, H. (2006). Fans, Bloggers, Gamers. New York: New York UP, pp. 61-88. Groys, B. (2003). ‘Die Topologie der Aura’. In: Groys, B. (2003). Topologie der Kunst. München, Wien: Carl Hanser Verlag, pp. 33-46.

Gwenllian Jones, S. (2005). ‘Web Wars: Resistance, Online Fandom and Studio Censorship’. In: Jancovich, M. & Lyons, J. (2003, ed.). Quality popular television: Cult TV, the Industry and Fans. London: BFI publishing, p. 163-181. Hakkarainen & Stenros (2002). The Meilahti Model. Last accessed 7 July, 2009: http://www.saunalahti.fi/~hohakkar/meilahti/model.html Hale, L. (2006). ‘A Historical Perspective on Mary Sue’. Fan history. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: //www.fanhistory.com/wiki/A_historical_perspective_on_Mary Herman, D. (2004). ‘Toward a Transmedial Narratology’. In: Ryan, M.l. (2004, ed.). Narrative Across Media. Lincoln, London: University of Nebraska Press, pp. 47-75. Gaiman, N. (2002, 8 April). Neil Gaiman’s Blog. Last Accessed 21 May, 2009: http://journal-.neilgaiman.com/2002_04_01_archive.html Hills, M. (2002a). Fan Cultures. London: Routledge. Hills, M. (2002b). Transcultural ‘Otaku’: Japanese representations of fandom and representations of Japan in anime/manga fan cultures (Electronic version). Cardiff University. Hills, M. (2007). ‘Media Academics as Media Audiences’. In: Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (red.). (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press, p. 33-48. Hobb, R. (2005). ‘The fanfiction rant’. Robin Hobb’s official site. Last accessed 13 May, 2009: http://web.archive.org/web/20050630015105/http://www.robinhobb.com/rant.html Iser, W. (1974). The Implied Reader. Baltimore, London: The Johns Hopkins University.

124

Iser, W. (1976). Der Akt des Lesens. München: Wilhelm Fink Verlag. Ito, M. (2003). Intertextual Enterprises: Writing Alternative Places and Meanings in the Media Mixed Networks of Pokémon and Yugioh. www.itofisher.com/PEOPLE/mito/ito.inter textual.pdf Ito, M. (2008). Amateur Cultural Production and Peer-to-Peer Learning. Last accessed 1 March, 2009: http://www.itofisher.com/mito/publications/amateur_cultura_2.html Ius Mentis. ‘Auteursrecht’. Last accessed 20 May, 2009: http://www.iusmentis.com/ Jenkins, H. (1992). Textual Poachers: Television Fans & Participatory Culture. New York & London: Routledge. Jenkins, H. (2000). ‘Digital land grab’. Technology Review. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://www.technologyreview.com/articles/00/03/viewpoint0300.asp Jenkins, H. (2003, January 15). ‘Transmedia Storytelling’. Technology Review. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://www.technologyreview.com/biomedicine/13052/page1/ Jenkins, H. (2004a, February 6). ‘Why Heather can write’. Technology Review. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://www.technologyreview.com/articles/04/02/wo_jenkins020604.asp? Jenkins, H. (2004b). ‘The Cultural Logic of Media Convergence’ (Electronic version). International Journal of Cultural Studies, 7 (1). Jenkins, H. (2006a). Fans, bloggers, gamers. New York: New York University Press. Jenkins, H. (2006b). Convergence Culture. Where Old and New Media Collide. New York & London: New York University Press. Jenkins, H. (2006c, June 19). ‘Who the &%&# is Henry Jenkins?’ Jenkins, H. (2006, ongoing). Confessions of an Aca-fan. Last accessed 11 March, 2009: http://www.henry-jenkins.org/2006/06/who_the_is_henry_jenkins.html Jenkins, H. (2007). ‘Afterword: The Future of Fandom’. In: Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (red.). (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press. Jenkins, H. (2008, August 17). ‘How Fan Fiction Can Teach Us a New Way to Read Moby Dick’. Jenkins, H. (2006, ongoing). Confessions of an Aca-fan. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://henryjenkins.org/2008/08/how_fan_fiction_can_teach_us_a_1.html


125

Jenkins, H. (2009, January 26). ‘Going ‘Mad’: Creating 140 Fan Fiction Characters at a Time’. Jenkins, H. (2006, ongoing). Confessions of an Aca-fan. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://henryjenkins.org/2009/01/mad_men_twitter_and_the_future_1.html Kaplan, D. (2007). ‘Construction of Fan Fiction Character Through Narrative’. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland, pp. 134-152. Kinsella. S. (1998). ‘Amateur Manga Subculture and the Otaku Panic’ (Electronic version). Journal of Japanese Studies. Lackner, E. Lucas, B. L. & Reid, R. A. (2006). ‘Cunning Linguists: The Bisexual Erotics of Words/Silence/Flesh’. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland, pp. 189-206. Lamerichs, N. (2009). Fantasms. Last acccessed 28 July, 2009: http://nicollelamerichs.word-press.com/ Lancaster, K. (2001). ‘Preface: From the Imaginary to the Performative’. In: Interacting with Babylon 5. Austin: University of Texas Press. Last accessed 10 March, 2009: http://faculty.fortlewis.edu/LANCASTER_K/kurt/b5sample.htm Landow, G.P. (2006). Hypertext 3.0. Critical theory and new media in an era of globalization. Baltimore: John Hopkins. Long, G. (2004, April 28). On Toys and Transmedia Storytelling. Last accessed 1 March 2009: http://www.geoffreylong.com/miscellany/actionfigures.php Long, G. (2007). Transmedia Storytelling: Business, Aesthetics and Production at the Jim Henson’s Company. Last accessed 1 March, 2009: http://cms.mit.edu/research/theses/ GeoffreyLong2007.pdf McKee, A. (2001). ‘Which is the best Doctor Who story? A case study invalue judgements outside the academy’. Intensities, 1. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://cult-media.com/issue1/Amckee.htm Meers, P. (2006). ‘Fandom en Blockbusters: Aanzet tot een Typologie van Lord of the Rings-fans’ (Electronic version). Tijdschrift voor Communicatiewetenschap, 34, 1, pp. 69-87. Moore, R. (2005). ‘All shapes of hunger. Teenagers and fanfiction’. Voya, april 2005, pp. 15-19.

126

Murray, J. H. (1997). Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace. New York: Free Press. Newitz, A. (1994). ‘Anime Otaku: Japanese Animation outside Japan’ (Electronic version). Bad Subjects, 13. Ong, W.J. (2002). Orality and Literacy. (First edition: 1982). London: Routledge. Peeters, H. (2007). ‘The Networked Self: Autofiction on MySpace’. Image & Narrative (19). Last accessed 12 March: http://www.imageandnarrative.be/autofiction/peeters.htm Pflieger, P. (1999). 150 years of Mary Sue. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://interalia.org/filestore/single_pages/MARYSUE.HTM Pugh, S. (2004). ‘The democratic genre: Fan fiction in a literary context’. Refractory, 5. Last accessed 2 March, 2009: http://www.refractory.unimelb.edu.au/journalissues/vol5/pugh.html Ryan, M.L. (2001). Narrative as Virtual Reality: Immersion and Interactivity in Literature and Electronic Media. Baltimore, London: The John Hopkins University Press. Ryan, M.L. (2004a). ‘Introduction’. In: Ryan, M.L. (2004a, ed.). Narrative Across Media. Lincoln, London: University of Nebraska Press, pp. 1-40. Ryan, M.L. (2004b). ‘Will New Media Produce New Narratives?’ In: Ryan, M.L. (2004, ed.). Narrative Across Media. Lincoln, London: University of Nebraska Press, pp. 337-360. Sandvoss, C. (2005). Fans: The Mirror of Consumption. Cambridge: Polity Press. Sandvoss, C. (2007). ‘The Death of the Reader? Literary Theory and the Study of Texts in Popular Culture’. In: Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (red.). (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press, p. 19-32. Scholes, R. (1995). ‘Metafiction’. In: Currie, M. (1995). Metafiction. New York: Longman Publishing, pp. 21-38. Reprinted from Scholes, R. (1970). Metafiction, The Iowa Review, 1, pp. 100-115.

Scodari, C. (2003). ‘Resistance re-examined: Gender, fan practices, and science fiction Television’. Popular Communication, 1 (2), pp. 111-131. Smith, P. (1974). A Trekkie’s Tale. Last accessed 23 July, 2009: http://www.fortunecity.com/ rivendell/dark/1000/marysue.htm Stasi, M. (2006). ‘The Toy Soldiers from Leeds: The Slash Palimpsest’. In: Busse, K. &


127

Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland, pp. 115-13. Stein, L. E. (2006). ‘”This Dratted Thing”: Fannish Storytelling through New Media’. In: Busse, K. & Hellekson, K. (Eds.). (2006). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Jefferson, North Carolina, London: McFarland, pp. 245-260. Stratton, J. (2009). What is role-playing? Last accessed 17 June 2009 from: http://www.hoboes.com/pub/Role-Playing/RPG.html Tronstad, R. (2001). ‘Semiotic and Nonsemiotic MUD Performance’. COSIGN (10-12 September, Amsterdam). Last accessed 15 March 2009: http://www.cosignconference.org/ cosign2001/papers/Tronstad.pdf. 7 April 2006. Turkle, S. (1995). Life on the Screen. New York: Simon and Schuster. Tushnet, R. (2007). ‘Copyright Law, fan practices and the rights of the author’. In: Gray, J. & Sandvoss, C. & Lee Harrington, C. (red.). (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press, pp. 60-71. Van Zoonen, L. (2005). Media, Cultuur en Burgerschap. Apeldoorn: Maklu. Viires, P. (2005). ‘Literature in Cyberspace’ (Electronic version). Folklore 29, p. 153-174. Walker, R. (2008, December 23). ‘Enterprising’. New York Times. Last accessed 25 March, 2009: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/28/magazine/28wwln-consumedt.html?_r=2&ref= Magazine Walter, N. (2004, October 27). ‘Works in Progress’. The Guardian. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2004/oct/27/technology.news Waskul, D. & Lust, M. (2004). ‘Role-playing and Playing Roles: The Person, Player and Persona in Fantasy Role-playing’ (Electronic version). Symbolic Interaction 27 (3), pp. 333-356. Waugh, P. (1984). Metafiction. The Theory and Practice of Self-Conscious Fiction. London, New York: Routledge.

Wellman, B. & Gulia, M. (1997). Net Surfers Don’t Ride Alone: Virtual Communities as Real Communities. Last accessed 23 July, 2009: http://www.chass.utoronto.ca/~wellman/public-ations/netsurfers/netsurfers.pdf

Wilber, D. (2007). ‘MyLiteracies: Understanding the Net Generation through LiveJournals and Literacy Practices’ (Electronic version). Innovate 3 (4).

128

Documents and sites 17 US Code, section 107. Last accessed 20 May, 2009: http://uscode.house.gov Chilling effects. Last accessed 11 May, 2009: http://www.chillingeffects.org/index.cgi Creative Commons. Last accessed 9 June, 2009: http://creativecommons.org/ Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Media Education (2008, November). Last accessed 11 May, 2009: http://www.centerforsocialmedia.org/resources/publications/code_for_media_lit-eracy_education/ Gerechtshof Amsterdam 6 november 2003, LJN AN7646, last accessed 20 May, 2009: www.rechtspraak.nl/ljn.asp?ljn=AN7646 The Organization of Transformative Works. Last accessed 15 February, 2009: http://trans-formativeworks.org/ Wikipedia. (2009). Role-playing game. Last accessed 7 July, 2009: http://en.wikipedia.org/ wiki/Role-playing_game Fanfiction Accident Prone. (2009). Llyodd received the Title of Mr. Oblivious. [Published 13 February 2009, updated 21 March 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4860704/1/ Lloyd_recieved_the_title_of_Mr_Oblivious Active Gal. (2009). Tales of Truth or Dare. [Published 13 March 2009, updated 19 April 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4920708/1/Tales_of_Truth_or_Dare Arisu Tsunaru. (2009). Upsy Daisy Oops. [Published 14 February 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4861515/1/Upsy_Daisy_oops BrandonGlee123. (2009). BrandonGlee123’s C Skit Theater. [Published 10 January 2009, updated 4 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4784339/1/brandonglee 123s_C_Skit_Theater Cerby. (2006). I fell in a video game. [Published 22 July 2006, updated 21 February 2009). Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3060148/1/I_fell_in_a_video_game Cinnamon-Chan. (2009). Tales of Symphonia Insert. [Published 16 February 2009, updated 28 February 2009). Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4868316/1/Tales_of_a_ Symphonia_Self_Insert


129

Dark-Fire27. (2009). The Kharlan War. [Published 24 January 2009, updated 24 February 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4815898/1/The_Karlan_War E. an' E. Kaleidoscope. (2009). Ripple Effect. [Published 28 March 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4953005/1/Ripple_Effect Eefara. (2008). Yuan’s What. [Offline since June]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/ s/4627257/1/Yuans_Whatr Falcon Crest. (2008). Raine’s Cookbook. [Published 8 December 2008, updated 15 February 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4703651/1/Raines_cookbook Freakyanimegal. (2005). GrandKid. [Published 31 December 2005, updated 5 April 2007] Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2728363/1/GrandKid Freakyanimegal. (2007). Tasks of Spirit. [Published 9 April 2007, updated 29 May 2009] Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3485389/1/Tasks_of_Spirit Freakyanimegal. (2009). The Locket. [Published 10 February 2009]. http://www.fanfiction. net/s/4853152/1/The_Locket Heart of Shou. (2008). Yar. [Published 20 September 2008]. Retrieved from: http://www.fan fiction.net/s/4549242/1/Yar ItachiTheDekuScrub. (2009). A Midnight’s Hell. [Published 2 January 2009, updated 9 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4763842/1/A_Midnights_Hell Joshuaorrizonte. (2007). Kharlan. [Published 14 March 2007, updated 23 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3440793/1/Kharlan Key to Soul. (2009) The Spirit of The Earth. [Published 25 February 2006, updated 17 April 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4885264/1/The_Spirit_of_The_Earth Kitty-Katz-Katz. (2008). C Skit Theater. [Published 29 November 2008, updated 21 January 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4684561/1/C_Skit_Theater Kratos the 9th Companion. (2009). Thrusting Angels. [Published 4 June 2008, updated 16 March 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4300009/1/Tales_of_Symphonia_ T_h_rusting_Angels LateNiteSlacker. (2006). Kratos discovers Fanfiction. [Published 31 August 2006, updated 13 December 2008]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3133867/1/Kratos_discovers_ Fanfiction

130

Meowzy-chan. (2006). Pirates of Symphonia. [Published 8 July 2006, updated 3 October 2006]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3033264/1/Pirates_of_Symphonia Metamorcy. (2008). Paradoxical. [Published 5 July 2008]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4372915/1/Paradoxical NiGHTChild68. (2008). One Fallen Angel. [Published 10 August 2008, updated 27 March 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4463743/1/One_Fallen_Angel Nightfoot. (2008). Tales of Cosplayers. [Published 24 August 2008, updated 25 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4497752/1/Tales_of_Cosplayers Raenef the 6th. (2007). Tales of Symphonia: Second Chance. [Published 9 January 2007, updated 27 March 2009] Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3333658/1/Tales_of_ Symphonia_Second_Chance SakuMeiMei. (2006). 1000 Wishes. [Published 29 December 2006, updated 5 April 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3314470/1/1000_Wishes Shaddowind. (2005). Heart of Phoenix. [Published 19 February 2005, updated 1 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2271563/1/Heart_of_the_Phoenix Tiger002. (2009). Through the Darkest Flames. [Published 4 January 2009, updated 25 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4769761/1/Through_the_darkest_flames Twilight Scribe. (2006). Z Skit Theater. [Published 8 August 2006, updated 29 May 2009] Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3093396/1/Z_Skit_Theater VanNeon. (2009). The ToS Characters play ToS. [Published 1 January 2009, updated 23 March 2009] Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4761996/1/The_ToS_Characters_ play_ToS Venus Tenshi. (2005). Two Worlds Combined. [Published 30 July 2007, updated 22 May 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2510204/1/Two_Worlds_Combined Whatsername427. (2007). Tales of Yet Another Self Insert. [Published 10 December 2007, updated 2 June 2009]. Retrieved from: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3940245/77/Tales_of_Yet_ Another_Self_Insert Role-playing Idiot Seraphim role-play community. Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejour-


131

nal.com/idiotseraph_rp/ Luceti application. (2008, July 24). Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejournal.com/luceti/49540.html#cutid1 Luceti role-play community. Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejournal.com/ luceti/ Luceti fans. Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejournal.com/lucetifans/ Luceti logs. Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejournal.com/lucetilogs/ Luceti out of character community. Last accessed 15 July, 2009: http://community.livejour-nal.com/lucetiooc/ Interviews Blanken, S. [Aquelapple] (17 April, 2009). Hosted her fiction at an MSN community and distributes it amongst friends Role-plays with ball-jointed Asian dolls. Active for other fan practices at: http://aquelapple.deviantart.com/ Lamerichs, C. [Meowzy-chan] (31 March, 2009). Role-plays at Luceti and Tadium Vitae Hosts her fiction at: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/546506/Meowzy-chan http://meowzy-chan.livejournal.com/ http://tales.namco.com/forums/

Maassen, I. [Xwingace] (14 May, 2009). Hosts her fiction at: http://www.fanfiction.net/~xwingace http://xwingace.livejournal.com/ Meijer, W. [GinGin] (30 June, 2009). Personal contact about role-playing at boards. Van den Hoogen, M. [Lizz or Wingedlizz] (31 April, 2009). Roleplays at the MUSH of shoujoai.com Hosts her fiction and fan art at: http://www.fanfiction.net/~thelizz http://www.kpslashhaven.net/index.php

132

Appendix A

Images

a) Fragment of a conversation at http://chikaidestroyer.livejournal.com/16930.html

b) Fragment of a conversation at http://inferrer.livejournal.com/823.html?thread=93239#t93239


133

c) Fragment of conversation at http://wise-maiden.livejournal.com/22727.html

d) Fragment of conversation at http://wise-maiden.livejournal.com/22727.html

134

e) Fragment of a log http://community.livejournal.com/lucetilogs/107408.html

f) Prequel to conversation b. http://inferrer.livejournal.com/823.html?thread=93239#t93239 Note the use of icons continued in b.


135

Appendix B: Glossary

Concepts used by fanfiction authors Action post – A post in a role-play that should be seen as a live action rather than mediated through the journal (e.g., a character is shopping in the village and talking to others) Angst - Angst refers to fanfiction in which a state of panic, anxiety or emotional instability is depicted Anime – Japanese animation series Anti-fan – Term by Gray and Sandvoss (2007) which depicts anti-fans, fans that are not recognizable through affinity with a source-text, but through sheer dislike and debunking of it Application – Submission for applying to a role-playing game with a character. Usually a division is made between forms for original characters and fan characters AU – Alternative universe, a narrative providing an alternative to certain key elements in the source-text, out of which a new plot develops. What if Voldemort had not killed Harry’s parents? What if the planet Vulcan was destroyed? Such questions can be answered in AU fiction Author’s notes - Some writers post author’s note at the beginning of their fiction in which they can reply to reviews, describe their life, writing practices or go into the fandom or source-text Beta-reading - Passing one’s writing to a peer reviewer that provides it with comments. One can recruit beta-readers in various ways, for instance via a system in FanFiction.net, ask for them at fan communities where one participates in or via more informal ways such as asking friends who are also in the same fandom BFFL - Best friends for life, a relationship that can be a good foundation for slash, such as Harry/Ron Canon – The established information in the source-text or what can be deduced from it Canon review – Rereading or replaying the source-text to check the established facts, important for writers (notably roleplayers) who aim to be very accurate Canon-Sue – An exaggerated, glorified portrait of a character from the source-text

136

Community – In this thesis community refers usually to online virtual communities (and in a few cases, a community offline) at various platforms (e.g., a fanfiction community at LiveJournal). A fandom differs from this as being the large, overarching interest group spread across various online and offline communities. See also, fandom Cosplay – Fan practice in which fans make a costume from a certain series and wear this to a convention or special occasion Crossover – In crossover fanfiction two story worlds are combined into one narrative, for instance Star Wars and Harry Potter Derivative fiction - Fiction that bases itself on existing texts and transforms them into new ones Disclaimers – Credits in which a fanfiction authors states he does not own the property. Dub or dubbing – Replacing the original voices in a series, movies or game with new, translated ones to suit the audience in another country. This can also refer to a fan practice in which fans replace the voices in the same language or otherwise, often with different, humorous dialogues. Emo – A character that is too emotional which results in for instance whiny behaviour or depression. A character may be interpreted as being too emo in the source-text or may be portrayed inadequately as emo in a fan text Event - Happenings at the role-play community that last for a few days, for instance a personality switch, a celebration, a fourth wall break Fan – A fan is engaged emotionally and attentively with a source-text or genre. A fan uses the text for self-expression through creative practices (e.g., fanfiction) or in daily life (e.g., clothing, posters and conversations) Fan art – Fan practice in which fans base art (usually illustrations or comics) on existing fiction either in their own graphic style or in the style of the source-text Fandom – The fan community surrounding a certain fictional product, be it game, series or movie. Fandoms can also be based on non-fiction such as a celebrity or sports club, though this thesis deals more with media fans Fanfiction [fanfic; fic] – Story written by and for fans based on the source-text they appreciate (e.g., a videogame, a series, a movie) Fannish – A proverb describing a subject or practice that has fan qualities, a term used by scholars as well as fans


137

Fanon – Fan texts and discussions written by fans can lead to unofficial information, often called fanon in contrast to canon (see canon). Interpretations and fiction that are not in the original text influence the larger fan community here. In some cases the fanon may be integrated or spoofed in the actual series Fan video - Fan practice in which fans base videos on existing footage (e.g., a game, movie or series) or make fan films themselves Femmeslash - Fanfiction that addresses lesbian love affairs between existing characters that are often portrayed as heterosexual or unspecified in the source-text Ficlet – Small fic, one-shot, also sometimes referred to as drabble Game master – A player or referee in a role-play. He also organizes the game and assures the rules are followed Het – Heterosexual fiction in opposition to slash Hurt/Comfort – Genre (and motive) in fanfiction in which one character suffers a trauma, physical or emotional, and another character attends to his aid Icon – Small picture at your profile, usually not of yourself but of a fictional character to underline your affinity with a certain fandom In character [IC] – In role-playing this refers to statements that deal with the character rather than the player. When dealing with regular fanfiction it means that a character behaves according to the source-text and that his personality is described properly Livejournal [LJ] - A blogging system that has existed since 1999. Its blogs and communities give ground to many fan practices and discussions Log – Third-person longer messages conducted at a specific log-community for role-playing. Logs tend to deal with certain actions and the thoughts of characters elaborately, usually involving only two or three participants Manga – Japanese comic Mary Sue – A perfect original character, brilliant and daring which is embedded in a fan text along with existing characters. Mary Sue is frequently regarded as a wish-fulfillment of the author. Both the type of story and the character are defined as Mary Sue

138

Moderator [Mod] – User in an online community with specific access to back-end options to moderate discussions and to structure the community (e.g., keep it clean from spam and lock inappropriate topics) MUD – Multi-user dungeon, a virtual online world described in text which combines elements of role-playing with online chats and quests. MUD’s have many variants, some of which are more practical (e.g., have educational purposes) and less aimed at gaming Multi-fandom role-playing - A role-playing game that makes use of several source-texts and allows existing characters from all kinds of texts to enter Mun – Abbreviation of ‘mundane’. The role-player, a term mostly used in LiveJournal role-plays Out of character [OOC] – In role-playing this refers to statements that deal with the player rather than the character. In fanfiction it can also depict a character that behaves unlikely when compared to the source-text. The character can also start to behave different in the source-text itself. Out of character then means his personality is portrayed inconsistent Ownership – Here meant as legal ownership, a concept of author’s right. Sometimes I refer to emotional ownership when fans feel parts of the source-text or fan text are theirs that were not grounded by them. They feel attached to them through their own practices. Role-playing games (RPG) – In the first meaning of the word RPG’s are games in which all players assume the role of a fictional character. The narrative is structured via rules or guidelines in which the players determine actions for their characters. Role-plays can be conducted offline in various forms (e.g., table-tops, LARP). Similarly there exists a variety of online role-playing practices. Chapter 4 of this thesis deals specifically with textual role-plays conducted through MUD’s, chats, boards, profile sites and blogs. Secondly RPG also refers to refers to a subgenre of videogames (e.g., Tales of Symphonia). Here the gamer does not have the same amount of interaction that players have in traditional role-playing games Self-insertion – Genre of fanfiction in which the author inserts himself as a character in the story world Slash – Fanfiction that addresses gay love affairs between existing characters that are often portrayed as heterosexual or unspecified in the source-text Spin-off – Set in the same story world as the source-text, a spin-off focuses on a different cast that can include guest appearances of characters from the established fiction. Examples from general popular culture include Stargate Atlantis or Star Trek The Next Generation Spoiler – A spoiler is information regarding an episode that has not aired yet (in certain parts of the world). Commonly spoiler tags are added for fanfiction or discussions related to fairly


139

new seasons or episodes to make sure that some fans are not spoiled. Some fans actively want to be spoiled, especially during season breaks, and are pleased with new information Subtext – Implicit information in the source-text that is only hinted at. For instance, gay subtext in Xena The Warrior Princess Universe or verse – The setting and its history, the story world as it is generally described by fans Voice post – A post in a role-play in which the character chooses to speak to his journal rather than write in it. The journal mediates this and other characters overhear it. A feature often included in LiveJournal blogs. Mind, the feature is a textual one that players imagine: a user cannot actually record his voice on LiveJournal W.I.P. - Work in progress (e.g., fanfiction that is not yet finished but already posted for beta reading) Writer’s block - A well-known problems for fans and academics alike