Ten years ago, I swore I would never do it again.
After all, the stories in my head were already beginning to build up. Time went on and the stories weren’t properly told, and I knew full well that my characters deserved more attention than I was giving them. If I was going to write, I needed to write my stories, with my characters, and doing otherwise was being lazy. Using a crutch. Copping out.
But last month, I started writing fanfiction again.
I still can’t quite pin down why. After all, I had barely written anything in months when I sat down to start planning True Colors. Alabaster Locket still remains unfinished, and the rewrite of Around the Source is stagnating at the second chapter. I’ve got three or four short stories begging to be written in my head and here I am, plotting out a multi-chapter fanfiction for a Japanese children’s show that I find myself completely obsessed with.
At first I was embarrassed. Mortified, even. I’d denounced fanfiction at least a dozen times since my fanfic-writing heyday back in college (most of which, amusingly, is still available online in a number of archives). How could I fall back, fall so low again to be writing for characters that aren’t even mine?
And then I got over it.
The story is still in my head. I can’t argue that fact – it’s stuck there, and it’s going to drive me batty until it’s written. If I can’t focus on my other projects until this one is written out, then so be it – I’ll write it! And with any luck, people will enjoy it. It’d be rather nice if they did. With the most luck, I’ll be able to get other people interested in the show that I love so much. With the worst luck, I’ll learn from the experience and move on.
And I will move on. I know that I’ll get this story out – or stop halfway – and go back to my other works-in-progress. After all, sometimes everyone needs a little crutch until they can walk on their own once again.