Indigo Starblaster is an old friend. We go all the way back to the mists of middle school, when John Norman’s Slave Girl of Gor was read aloud at sleepovers to basements full of breathless girls, some of whom later go went on to become full-time kinksters. Well, one of whom.
Anyway, Indigo has taken up fanfic. I’m thrilled. One reason is my friend is getting to write — something she’s denied herself for awhile. Another is that we now have yet another thing to bond over. Maybe fanfic is a tremendous joke to some “serious” writers, but I tend to agree with people like Jess over at onlyalittlelion.tumblr.com who said:
I think fanfiction is literature and literature, for the most part, is fanfiction, and that anyone that dismisses it simply on the grounds that it’s derivative knows fuck-all about literature and needs to get the hell off my lawn.
Most of the history of Western literature (and probably much of non-Western literature, but I can’t speak to that) is adapted or appropriated from something else. Homer wrote historyfic and Virgil wrote Homerfic and Dante wrote Virgilfic (where he makes himself a character and writes himself hanging out with Homer and Virgil and they’re like “OMG Dante you’re so cool.” He was the original Gary Stu).
Go eat the rest if you’re hungry. Better yet, chow down on my friend’s scrumptious bit of Star Wars mockery involving the marriage of Jabba the Hutt and Boba Fett. Yes, you heard that right. My friend has her tongue thrust so firmly into her cheek for this one that she might be in danger of permanently stretching out one whole side of her face.
Featured image by Greg & Tim Hildebrandt for Twentieth Century Fox