Random observation, but I was up all night reading fic and today I was like, “Well, now I must write and be prolific in response,” and I was analyzing this impulse in myself and I’ve decided thus:
That I feel, in this weird way, like fic is what I can give to the world. I’m never going to win any sort of Nobel Prize or do any otherwise really magnificent thing to better human civilization, but I’m good at writing, and I can do that, and every time I sit down to write I think, “I wish I wasn’t me because I wish I was getting to read this fic instead of write it, but the next best thing will be to put it out there so that everyone who’s not me can get that.”
And so it becomes like sitting down and writing a fic becomes like a form of public service?
My headspace is weird right now, ignore me.
You can always spot which Tumblr users migrated over here from LiveJournal because we consistently call the Read More button ‘the cut’.