wangxian star wars au be like "do NOT do to a lightsaber what you did to bichen"

So my current fandom pursuit is a Wangxian Star Wars AU, which I've very proudly titled "ignite the stars." 

I've had it on the backburner since forever: since well before my fandom hiatus, actually, and on-and-off again during it, just for funsies, when working on original stuff got to be a little too stressful.

In order to really get myself into that Star Wars headspace again, though, I've been reading some EU books, and God, I'd forgotten just how batshit and fun Star Wars could be. Like, "Palpatine's daddy dom bastard son fighting alien labor unions" levels of batshit. 

I'm doing X-Wing right now, and then I'll probably do something with some Jedi in it, since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are Jedi in this 'verse. Maybe Jedi Academy, or Young Jedi Knights? The fic is set pre-Imperial, though, so maybe I'll dip into some of the old Obi-Wan stuff. I've never actually read much of that. 

I've also been thinking a lot about like, how much I really want Dreamwidth to stick, even if it's just as a small, quiet counterfandom, and what I think something like that would require in like, legwork. (I'm a former campaign staffer, man, my brain operates in nothing but logistics.)

I think you'd need like, definitive onboarding, for one: beginner's guides for how Dreamwidth works, guides for expectations, guides for what to do when you're first getting in and how to do it. You'd probably need to get some HTML themes / custom layouts with more modern designs, since fandom (and the internet in general) has become widely more aesthetic in sensibility. 

An event might help things, as well: something centered around Dreamwidth, around convincing people to create and be active on Dreamwidth accounts. Maybe centered around like, meta or guides? Dreamwidth seems like it would be perfect for that kind of thing, but fic-specific events might be cool too. Something that requires input and community interaction. 

I honestly think that if you could build a small community separate from Twitter, the growth would follow: have the available resources for people to make and use accounts without getting confused, and then have just a dozen or so accounts with regular activity to show that the community is active. Once you could demonstrate that, I think the exodus (a small exodus, but one that could keep a fire going and a house warm) would follow.

That's all just hip-shooting, though: a thought experiment, more than anything. It'd be cool if we, or anyone, could make it happen, though, in the wake of Twitter being... well. Twitter.

fandoms, fight clubs, and futures: a vivisection

Ugh. I've only been back on Twitter for a couple of days, so I've mostly been trying to just like... get the lay of the land, and see what the fandom looks like since I stepped back.

It's been about six months, a little over, and once they saw my name back on the screen, a few former mutuals were quick to reach out and assure me with a sympathetic tone that fandom was a lot more relaxed than it was six months ago. A lot of the bad actors got bored and floated away, the energy seemed to change. And they're right, I think: it did change.

But it's easy to see what actually happened, when you pick apart the archaeology of the wound: the blood got too deep, the viciousness swelled over, and everyone broke off into little camps to protect themselves from what seemed like a neverending bloodbath. The wounds are still there, though—festered and scarring, just scabbed over—and it's easy to see them if you look.

The air of exhaustion and jadedness. The snide remarks that demarcate territory or assert an allegiance, things like "novel-canon dynamics enthusiast" or "cql-only" or "pro-ship" or "freaks don't interact." People loudly, outwardly labeling themselves as kink-friendly, as sex-positive, as horny, in an obvious defensive gesture, lamb's blood on the doorway, meant to ward away the looming spectre of a fight you know is coming. You're begging it not to, though. You're trying to keep the devil out of the house.

The peace and quietude that my friends assured me had come is certainly present, but it's clear that it was bought and paid for with the flesh-carved fractalization of the community. Everyone splintered off into small, insular friend groups of five to maybe fifteen, occasionally and begrudgingly brushing elbows across dozens of scattered Discord servers, and all of them are somewhat mistrustful of outsiders.

It's... sad, honestly. It's not the kind of fandom I remember fondly from when I was younger. And I know they say, "There's no such thing as good fandoms these days, only good friends." and they're right, they are, but there's also this sort of grief around how fandom used to be about friends. Fandom feels so lonely and atomized on Twitter, so isolating and corporatized and splintered.

I hate that this is what we became. I hate that I was a part of it, in a way.

I keep typing up a thread about why I left abruptly, maintained contact with almost no one, and stayed away for six months, and I end up just... deleting it, honestly, because I don't want to bring the devil to my doorstep, either. I don't want to do or say anything that might break what feels like a Cold War-esque armistice that looms tenuously over the entire fandom.

In a sense, I don't owe anyone an explanation.

In truth, though, I owe one to myself.

This might be self-indulgent, and it's sure as fuck going to be long, but honestly, the whole vibe of Dreamwidth feels self-indulgent, and like hell am I ever posting something like this on Twitter lmfao. I do want to post something like this, though. For me, even if no one reads it.

So here we go, I guess.

( Let's start with some background. )

That's where I was—and specifically, that's where I was mentally—when I first entered into the MDZS fandom on Twitter.

( And this is how it went. )

( And this is why I came back. )

I think part of my like, excitement over the idea of Dreamwidth making a comeback is the fact that 1) Dreamwidth has never given me therapy bills, thank you very much, and 2) Twitter still sucks for fandom. The algorithm, the lack of content control, the incessant discourse that all of those things create. It would be nice, I think, to congregate in a place like this, where everything's quieter, where everyone's older. Where you can talk to each other, y'know? Like people.

Anyway, this post was so fucking long lmao: it's literally like 2.8k words. I've subjected everyone to enough, I am done for the day. I wanted to say all of this stuff for closure purposes, for me, and I did. And I do feel better, actually—that was cathartic. 

Now I'm going to go chug half a pot of coffee and read about Palpatine's son and the robot mining union while I slack off at work.

Have a good morning, everyone!