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About Me
Hmmm.
Hmmm.
What exactly would you like to know about me?
There really isn't all that much to tell. Obviously, I'm a huge X-Phile, and a fanfic author. I'm also one of those sad people who spends all her time online, and counts among her most constant companions the hard drive and all cyber-buddies. It's no problem admitting that I'm obsessive about the show, the Internet, or my e-mail. I know all that. :)
Still...
You obviously think there's more to me than just that.
I guess there must be.
Well, I started writing from a very young age, penning (or more accurately, pencilling) simple stories by stringing crude sentences together. Even then, I showed the signs of being a fanfic author. I seldom came up with original characters of my own, preferring to create situations for the book people already established in my mind. My scribblings were met with great delight by my family, who looked upon me as an oddity.
An oddity.
Ideal way to describe me.
I'm conventional, and yet unconventional.
I follow the beaten path because it's the least troublesome thing to do, most of the time. I try to make the people around me happy, and I listen to authority. I play by the rules, don't drink or smoke, and am a regular homebody. But I do all those things my own way. My friend once told me I was like no one she's ever met before.
I think she's right.
I'm unique.
A unique weirdo, that is.
I've been told I have a flair for writing, and that's something I always take quiet (and unusual) pride in. People who know me well should know that a large part of my identity is defined by my rather over-ponderous inferiority complex. In a way, writing helps me sort out everything, and I can actually feel good about some of the stuff I turn out. I've seen amazing authors on the Net, some whose writing make me want to quit, others who have become my closest cyber-pals.
And amazingly enough?
I haven't quit yet.
I've wanted to. But I haven't.
Because I feel that as long as I like what I've written, it doesn't matter what others think. Hang on, don't write me off as just another beatnik artist living off air and her soul, and immediately think that I don't want feedback from you. I do. I love feedback, live off it for days, sponge on it and turn it into my family. But all that aside? If I can like what I've done, and like it enough not to care what others say, I'm happy.
So far, I have no regrets.
The fanfic community is one of the best things in my life.
I've made friends, read great stories, and shared a love.
Speaking of which -- are you wondering how I got into the X-Files? Well, that was by accident, and by no intent of mine. Frankly, I hated the show when its first few seasons aired in my country. I was always a bit of a scaredy-cat when it came to horror movies and dark sci-fi stuff. The family television room was a place I avoided religiously every time the X-Files came on. I was afraid it would freak me out.
It did.
But not quite the way I expected it to.
In Season Four, I saw "Memento Mori".
I'll always have a soft spot for that episode. Always. That's the one that drew me in, and sealed my fate as a Gillian Anderson fan. After that, I decided that I'd suffer through the entire show just to watch her bring Scully to life. And through doing that, I began to appreciate aspects of the show I never got to see before (probably because I was squealing and covering my eyes most of the time).
I learned to love darkness.
And conspiracy, and aliens, and MOTWs.
I even began to like surfing the Internet for X-Files stuff.
And that was it. Hook, line, and sinker, to use the old adage. First a closet shipper, then a rabid one. First a tentative Scullyist, then a full-blown one. First a reluctant X-Files fan... now, I can't imagine liking another drama series more. Ever.
How'd I get into writing fanfic?
My only RL Phile-friend sent me some.
I was amazed by the scope of this community.
Gossamer, ATXC, awards... everything blew my mind. I read, sparsely, for the first half of 1998. Then I got my first fanfic idea, and wrote it into "Dreamless Sleep". It wasn't good, I can admit that now. Most of my earlier stuff was weak on characterisation, and relied heavily on humour. I didn't keep an audience in mind while writing those fics, which I do now (at least subconsciously).
I never intended to publicise my work.
Only one person got to read it all.
The one who introduced me to it, of course.
She's still an X-Phile, and one of my very good friends. Back then, she told me that my work was good. Or at least, it wasn't any worse than some of the stuff she'd seen out there. So I screwed up my courage, and posted my first full-length attempt, "Scully, Meet Ally" to the Internet. I got feedback on it, encouraging feedback, and... that's all she wrote.
I can't say my stuff now is good.
Or that it's better than before.
It's my personal opinion that it is.
But my inferiority complex isn't going to let me claim it's great. It's not. I firmly believe what I write isn't anything more than entertaining, for myself - and for some readers out there. I don't write masterpieces, and I don't need to. As long as I enjoy the writing, and some people actually enjoy the reading of it... I'm happy.
It takes very little to satisfy me.
That's a general character trait.
What I have now is more than enough.
I've made friends, I've written fic that others have liked and even loved, and I get to talk about one of my favourite shows all day long. The fanfic world is something I'm glad to have been introduced to. It's helped me a lot, not just superficially in terms of satisfying the starving shipper who doesn't get quite enough to eat from the show. ;)
I've been scribbling for a year now.
And hopefully, for more years to come.
Some good, some bad, some mediocre.
And I've adored every second of it. Disillusioning, joyful, proud... I've felt all of that and more since I've become an X-Files fanfic author. In the immortal words of Agent Dana Scully in the Season Four episode, "The Field Where I Died"...
Even if I knew for certain, I wouldn't change a day.
In more ways than one...
Thanks for reading.
It's meant everything to me, even if it's meant nothing to you.
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Written July 5, 1999, Monday, 2.22 a.m.
Will be updated every once in a while. Or maybe not. :)
