That old black fanac...
Aug. 14th, 2005 10:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
debgeislerWe often think of magic as transformative...to do magic, it seems to many fantasists, is to take the thoughts of the magician and transform them to something real, tangible, empirical. The concept of transformation is ubiquitous in explorations of the magical: the magician becomes someone/thing else, the lead bar becomes gold, the six white mice are six white horses to get the transformed kitchen drudge to the ball on time.
Fanac, it seems to me, is also uniquely transformative. For those kind of weird and geekish sorts (like me), at least, there is something enormously empowering about discovering that people want to read your words, or listen to your crafty plans, or applaud your work, or marvel at your sensibilities, or even follow your lead.
Imagine what it must have been for the earliest SF fans -- trapped in a mundane world that doesn't dream your dreams, as isolated as polar bears at the zoo (and as comfortable), unable to talk about what charms and thrills and delights you. You read the pulps and see an ad and write away for a fanzine. Contact! Your LoCs are read. Others agree with you or disagree with you, but they do so for *reasons*.
Joining a community of like-minded fen was and is like turning from ashes to phoenix. All at once, there are others who admire you and give you a sense of place. And *damn*, but that's heady stuff.
--
I've found myself thinking about transformations a lot in the last week or so, both during and after Interthingy II, the Worldcon in Glasgow, Scotland just past. The first Worldcon in Glasgow was 10 years ago, and it was, for me, a vastly different experience.
We viewed Interthingy I (aka "Intersection") as an opportunity to see the UK in greater depth (I'd spent a weekend in London two years before, but that was the extent of my knowledge of the UK and Ireland), take pictures of castles, wander museums, and so on. Along the way, I helped MCFI arrange for a bid party for the eventually-defeated 2001 bid for Boston/Orlando. We ran the party in the Forte Crest hotel (which, last week, was still a hotel but is now badged as a Holiday Inn). It was a good party, and I'd used my limited creativity and ingenuity to get us better party space and a comfortable setup.
I was pretty content with being a minor fan, running some bid parties, and hoping that if Noreascon Four came around, someday, I could make a positive contribution. Maybe people would let me run an area, if I had enough experience.
In '95, my knowledge of fandom was exponentially greater than it had been at my first Worldcon in 1989. Some of the language was clear to me (it took me three years to figure out what "fiawol" meant...my husband would argue that it was a pity I didn't learn "fijagdh" first). I understood a bit about the history of con-running fandom and fanzines and apas and so on.
Most of fandom was a blank wall for me then, a swarm of faces without names from different fan groups. I knew few of them, and everything was still very, very confusing.
--
So...fast forward 10 years. Transformative? You bet.
Standing in the SECC Concourse, smoking a cigarette, watching the world go by. But this time, when people walked by, they might say, "hi Deb!" And I might know them, or not, but they knew me.
I wasn't lost anymore. There was this whole community of people, and a bunch of them knew me. They appreciated my work, or they disagreed with me, or they remembered something I'd written, or they'd been at Noreascon Four (where I did indeed make a contribution, and some would say it was positive and some would say otherwise, but it was an experience to treasure either way), or they just liked my tee shirt ("If I wanted your opinion, I'd read your entrails.").
But transformations aren't always easy. It's always bothered me when werewolves or vampires just sort of change and nothing seems to hurt or be annoying. Transformations should be meaningful. They should make you grow. They should itch and make it clear that you're different. Real-life transformations hurt (even if it's a good hurt, all in all), so I want to hear those werewolves whimper, dammit.
Because I find *this* transformation confusing. Very, very confusing. And I'm not sure I like it, but it sure as hell is uncomfortable. And maybe I'll sink back into anonymity, or maybe head in some new direction, or maybe gaffiate entirely.
But any way it turns out, I'm not sitting there and cleaning out the fireplace anymore. And that's growth.
Fanac, it seems to me, is also uniquely transformative. For those kind of weird and geekish sorts (like me), at least, there is something enormously empowering about discovering that people want to read your words, or listen to your crafty plans, or applaud your work, or marvel at your sensibilities, or even follow your lead.
Imagine what it must have been for the earliest SF fans -- trapped in a mundane world that doesn't dream your dreams, as isolated as polar bears at the zoo (and as comfortable), unable to talk about what charms and thrills and delights you. You read the pulps and see an ad and write away for a fanzine. Contact! Your LoCs are read. Others agree with you or disagree with you, but they do so for *reasons*.
Joining a community of like-minded fen was and is like turning from ashes to phoenix. All at once, there are others who admire you and give you a sense of place. And *damn*, but that's heady stuff.
--
I've found myself thinking about transformations a lot in the last week or so, both during and after Interthingy II, the Worldcon in Glasgow, Scotland just past. The first Worldcon in Glasgow was 10 years ago, and it was, for me, a vastly different experience.
We viewed Interthingy I (aka "Intersection") as an opportunity to see the UK in greater depth (I'd spent a weekend in London two years before, but that was the extent of my knowledge of the UK and Ireland), take pictures of castles, wander museums, and so on. Along the way, I helped MCFI arrange for a bid party for the eventually-defeated 2001 bid for Boston/Orlando. We ran the party in the Forte Crest hotel (which, last week, was still a hotel but is now badged as a Holiday Inn). It was a good party, and I'd used my limited creativity and ingenuity to get us better party space and a comfortable setup.
I was pretty content with being a minor fan, running some bid parties, and hoping that if Noreascon Four came around, someday, I could make a positive contribution. Maybe people would let me run an area, if I had enough experience.
In '95, my knowledge of fandom was exponentially greater than it had been at my first Worldcon in 1989. Some of the language was clear to me (it took me three years to figure out what "fiawol" meant...my husband would argue that it was a pity I didn't learn "fijagdh" first). I understood a bit about the history of con-running fandom and fanzines and apas and so on.
Most of fandom was a blank wall for me then, a swarm of faces without names from different fan groups. I knew few of them, and everything was still very, very confusing.
--
So...fast forward 10 years. Transformative? You bet.
Standing in the SECC Concourse, smoking a cigarette, watching the world go by. But this time, when people walked by, they might say, "hi Deb!" And I might know them, or not, but they knew me.
I wasn't lost anymore. There was this whole community of people, and a bunch of them knew me. They appreciated my work, or they disagreed with me, or they remembered something I'd written, or they'd been at Noreascon Four (where I did indeed make a contribution, and some would say it was positive and some would say otherwise, but it was an experience to treasure either way), or they just liked my tee shirt ("If I wanted your opinion, I'd read your entrails.").
But transformations aren't always easy. It's always bothered me when werewolves or vampires just sort of change and nothing seems to hurt or be annoying. Transformations should be meaningful. They should make you grow. They should itch and make it clear that you're different. Real-life transformations hurt (even if it's a good hurt, all in all), so I want to hear those werewolves whimper, dammit.
Because I find *this* transformation confusing. Very, very confusing. And I'm not sure I like it, but it sure as hell is uncomfortable. And maybe I'll sink back into anonymity, or maybe head in some new direction, or maybe gaffiate entirely.
But any way it turns out, I'm not sitting there and cleaning out the fireplace anymore. And that's growth.