cmeahp

I have spent a significant portion of my life sick in bed. This means I have read... a lot of fanfiction. I do not want to run the numbers (for my own sanity) but there is a nonzero chance that I have read a greater volume of fanfiction than most of you will in a lifetime (yes, even in a tumblr crowd, where I have some real competition 😆).

For a number of years I was really embarrassed by this because for most of my life, I've fit best with the 'socially elitist nerd' set. You know - the ones who don't care if you make a little less eye contact, as long as your performance of intelligence can make them feel intelligent too. I "passed" there. So more than a decade of constant fluff and rom-com "junk" really felt like something I should be ashamed of.

But I've realized recently what fanfiction (or any free web fiction) really is. It's the author's hopes. It's the author's fears. It's all the things you wouldn't write to publish because they feel too sad, or sinful, or sacred.

Without really thinking about it, I've been drinking from the well of human desire - from fear, and love, and lust. I've been reading your precious wishes for family, or protection, or connection. I've been learning how you dream life could be.

Thank you to every writer whose work I have read or will read someday. Thank you for sharing the most precious parts of your heart, even when you didn't realize what you were doing. To every writer out there - every middle schooler with dreams, every suburban mom wishing her life could be something more. You reached out into the oblivion with the piece of yourself you probably don't even share with those closest. And somewhere in this world, a person noticed. Your dreams and hopes and wishes became a piece of me too.