#fic binders

Part 1 covers the introduction of Chapter 4, The Bookbinders

Part 2 covers the methodology of this chapter and the bookbinders’ motivations

Part 3 covers how fic binding completes the communication circuit via fan reciprocation 

Part 4 covers how fic binding challenges traditional publishing norms 

The Redundancy of Preservation

Anthony Grafton writes that to understand books, we must interview them in their environment, so to understand bound fic, book historians must attend to two fannish environments: the unstable digital distributing platforms from which fic came, and the material preservation form born in fannish response [1]. The history of fandom media illustrates the instability of digital media in myriad ways: links break, sites crash, URLs expire. Many of the binders have experienced fic loss—returning to bookmarked fic only to find it had disappeared, deleted without any indication of what it may have been—but few said that it wholly or significantly influences their desire to bind fic. In response to the question, ‘Who or what do you trust to build a reliable archive of fic, if anyone?’ the binders unanimously cited AO3, but with trepidation. One binder wrote ‘I do not have unshakeable faith that they will be able to remain successfully funded for the foreseeable future or that laws won't be passed that lead to the site being shut down. The key to survival is redundancy, both digital and offline’. Another echoed, ‘the entire internet is ephemeral, and I have had too many technical snafus to put my entire trust into digital format’. And a third: ‘I’m going through my bookmarks and archiving them to the Internet Archive so they are protected against author removal’. The binders share a general wariness towards relying on digital forms, and while preserving fic is not the only or driving reason for binding fic, it is on the list. Preserving works in print also communicates their legitimacy, especially that of queer works, which historically have been condemned or outright destroyed. Bound fic counters the pitfalls of digital sites, where fan work may be lost without warning, but lacks the real-time feedback in comments and kudos and the links to additional fan works, although those still exist online. Bound fic also counters fallacies of traditional publishing, which tends to ignore fan works. As I discussed in the Introduction and Chapter 3, although works like Pride & Prejudice & Zombies emerge from commercial publishing houses, I reiterate that they are not fanfiction precisely because they were not written in nor attend to a fannish context in the way that bound fic does [2].

The binders change the text in preparing it from digital for print form. All of the binders cut comments and many exclude or rearrange any combination of summaries, author notes, and disclaimers, and kudos and hits statistics. One lacks sentimentality around these excisions: binding fic ‘is less of an archive project than a pleasure project’, so the concern for preservation pales to readability. Binders range in their approach to formatting metadata: two binders include metadata (author, title, tags, archive warnings, etc.) as a ‘copyright page’, with content warnings and research notes as appendices. Another includes summaries and tags because to make ‘these books to feel like a true physical version of what’s there on the web’. One binder of 104 fics has modified their typesetting process to expedite the time from screen to print in attempts to bind as many fics as quickly as possible:

Nowadays I drop everything in and go, for two reasons. I try to do a lot of fics and [editing out Author Notes] is a huge time suck. But these notes are also significant as part of the metatext. In the future these will be of interest to any scholar studying early years of online fandom and just contributes to these books being a time capsule of a phenomenon that is very specific to our time and place.

By favoring production speeds over editing, this binder prioritizes print preservation (and documents a book’s environment for a future book historian); ten binders move metadata and extratextual information to appendices or smaller, side bindings to avoid interrupting reading flow without eliminating the information. Although the lack of text editing seemingly counters the attention to craft, the binders distinguished between the craft of the book—its binding, endpapers, and internal ornamentation—from the content of the text itself. Formatting a text can be the most time-consuming task, so reducing that process expedites the production of a volume significantly.

A few themes emerge regarding losses in transforming fic to print form, including accessibility, interactivity, and malleability. Only people with copies of the fic can read those copies, although the fic remains online for the time being. The loss of hyperlinks and comments strips the fic of its community context. Printed versions inhibit the writer’s ability to edit and update the fic, and one binder noted that ficbinding’s greatest strength and weakness is that it makes fic ‘a fossil of a fixed point in time…It leaves no room to adapt’. But the gain is a hard copy and a sense of long-term preservation independent of online activity: ‘As long as Modern English can be read and the book remains undamaged by water, fire or other problematic time-passing problems, it is here and real’. This kind of preservation aligns with a history of recovering lost works via their textual commentaries; were every copy of Harry Potter to be lost and the internet wiped, one could reconstruct the events of the series via bound copies of Annerb’s ‘The Changeling’ and dirgewithoutmusic’s ‘boy with a scar’ series. Similarly, where the digitally-linked community disappears, it is reforged through sharing the copy with the author, who ‘gets to see how a reader put different materials together to best represent their work’. One binder wrote, ‘I think this is a case of having your cake and eating it too: the electronic copy is still there for the wider audience to read, the text is set in a permanent form which has its own artistic value’. The gains of permanence, the opportunity to create a physical object, and the ability to thank the writer for their work through bound fic outweigh the instantaneous losses of accessibility and digital interactivity.

One of my final questions to the binders concerned the long-term preservation of their library: where will their bound works go if they can no longer take care of them or die? One binder was in discussion with the University of Iowa special collections, which is home to a notable fanzines collection. Four posed sending the volumes to fandom friends, two want to bequeath them to family, and two have explicitly stated their wishes in their wills. One added that he firstly trusts fans to appreciate fan-printed books as both ‘stories worth reading’ and as art objects, rather than non-fans who do not understand the connotations of the works. Binding fic is a momentary win in the long-term battle against information loss, and these personal libraries prolong the question of how and where these works will survive. One binder articulated the long-term value of these volumes: ‘I think that people making fine binding versions of fic absolutely validates this place in libraries, and I have no doubt that some of the books made by the fic binding community will make their way into the special collection libraries or museums and other institutions’. Ensuring that preservation will most likely be a self-undertaken project, in the way that all things fandom are.

Citations

Anthony Grafton, ‘Codex in crisis: the book dematerializes’, in Worlds made by words: scholarship and community in the modern West (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009), p.311.

With over 20 years in fandom, I dedicate myself to binding the stories I like: with more passion than talent 😂. I also reblog the work of others as a way of celebrating fandom and these beautiful works of fan art that are bound fan fiction. For other ficbinders' work, I always use the same hashtag so that they can be found easily: "Fantastic ficbinders and where to find them"

Keep fandom free!

The young adventurer's club by Artemisgrl

Summary:

"Bored by unchallenging classes? Sick of sitting around, doing nothing grand? Eager to learn forgotten magics and gain power beyond your wildest dreams? Join the Young Adventurer's Club now!" A mysterious poster for a new club catches Severus' eye. Little does he know... What the club has planned will challenge everything he knows and change the course of his entire life.

The cover is made of ecru canvas (homemade book cloth), printed on a gel plate with black acrylic. The title and image are made with stencils.

I wanted to evoke the idea of an old, rustic, well-used and worn -out document.

I wanted to start from scratch... I still haven't finished my project, but I already have three volumes out of five.

Is it worth spending four years binding a fic? For me, yes. I am impatient, and this has taught me many things; among others, to do something just for my own pleasure, without pressure; moving quickly at times, at others at a snail's pace.

For this project, I learned:

How to use Word like a pro.

How to create a coherent and consistent design throughout all volumes

How to create macros

How to impose.

How to foil chapter titles.

To respect the direction of the fiber.

How to work with linen for the cover

How to make a curved spine and backing.

How to make a box for a book collection (I learned with the intention of making one when I finish, we'll see).

Now I'm learning to embroider, because I want to make the last volume slightly different, and I want to embroider the cover.

I'm finishing the main story (Volume 4) now. Since volume 5 is just a short epilogue and extra stories, I should be done by December or January, officially marking four years on the project.

Kill your darlings by MesserMoon, a fantastic fic you could read at AO3 for free.

I love this story, and am happy to have it in my collection. That said, I can tell you that this binding was very eventful.

I think I will change my name to Not Perfct bindery. The two volumes of this book took me a long time, because I was buried in workload. It seems that every day I picked up this binding project, I made some mistake. The worst one was sewing the signatures too tightly so it was impossible to round the spine. Another mistake I made while cutting the fabric, as can be seen, the covers were in different proportions. This is my 60th binding; and I must learn that in excess of confidence lies the danger.

Based on the responses of 135 fanbinders, my very informal consultation indicates that the most common errors we make are

Taking the wrong measurements. 23.7%

Messing up the case in. 20%

Finding a typo after all is said and done. 20%

Staining the book with adhesive. 17.8%

Plus, a 4,4% that said Case upside down (after making the inquiry I realized that it should be part of item n° 2 and not an independent item; duh my fault. So it is plausible to think that "messing up the case in" might be a 24,4%).

Now, let's talk about these mistakes and share our strategies to prevent them.

From my amateur experience:

To get the measurements right, in addition to measuring two or three times, I use an awl, a ruler and a square: I mark what I will cut with a fine pencil or with the awl. When I have used a thick lead pencil, sometimes I fail in a mm. The square is to make sure the angles are straight before cutting. My mistake is not always that I score wrong, but that it is not necessarily straight. Another very obvious tip is to make sure you have good lighting when measuring.

For the adhesive stains, it has helped me to always have two clean wipes within reach, one wet and one dry. I also have a Residue Eraser Rubber Cement Cleaner for when I discover it late.

And you? What helps you to overcome these mistakes? (or make fewer of them)

What do you think about rebinding your early ficbinds?

Looking at mine, I see so many mistakes that it makes me want to redo them, but on the other hand, they are a testament to my progress, a constant reminder of what I've learn.