Fanfic Origin Story
I was tagged by @burntotears ❤️
What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?
Harry Potter and CHERUB (both in writing and reading)
What was the first story you ever wrote?
Technically the first story I ever wrote was for Foot2Rue, but it never got posted anywhere. The first thing I wrote that got posted anywhere was an orginal story loosely based on CHERUB.
What's a piece of advice you would give your younger fic writing self?
Stories don't have to be inherently romantic
What's an early fandom interaction that stuch with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of fedback)?
When I was like 14 most of my irl friends dumped me from one day to the next. So I became really active on Wattpad, engaging in rp and commenting on fics to get the social interaction I wasn't really getting at school. After a few days, two other ppl started interacting with my rp too, and we rp'd together for about a year. One thing led to another, and we wrote a story togther, three years later we met up in real life. We don't talk as much nowadays, with everyone having gone their own ways, but these two ppl made me feel a lot less alone, and that's something I'll never forget
Post a sentence or two from an older fic and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want)
I only started writing in English somewhat recently (2018 ish), so this fic is not the oldest stuff I've written (I'm also slowly continuing it 😂)
The House with Blue Shutters (Orginial Work)
Greenwood was a small village. It was very charming and everybody knew each other. This village had all the characteristics of a hamlet: there was a church, St Williams, a small market on Mondays and even Mrs Potts, an old lady who knew everything that happened in Greenwood.
Evangeline Potts was a 71 year old retired teacher, who lived in a lovely house with a garden, just next to the market. She had a dog, Lucky, a brown French bulldog. You could always find Mrs Potts and her dog at the terrasse of the café, and on Mondays she would always be at the market, chatting to everybody who walked by. Lucky would often wander off between the stalls, looking for food, food that every seller would give him. Mrs Potts would always say “Lucky! Come back here! We have food at home.” and when he finally came, she would congratulate him: “That's a good boy.”
And one the most recent fics I've published, it's the best thing that I'll ever do (Roswell, New Mexico)
The television was on. Sheriff Taylor was talking. And all Isobel could focus on was the woman sitting besides her. Anatsa Mufaro. She was a journalist, and quite possibly the most interesting person Isobel had ever talked to. They started their conversation by raising their glasses to Max and the smart women in his life (who were the reason the man was alive to this day).
But then, they talked about everything and nothing all at once. They could have talked about Anatsa’s job, her report on the racial crimes in Roswell, and the new Sheriff, who was questionable at best. Or they could have talked about the alien stories around Roswell, a tourist simply asking questions to a local. They didn’t.
Instead, they talked about music, travels, books, sports, movies, their favourite coffee order, and a recent art exhibition that Isobel had gone to recently, in Albuquerque, that Anatsa should totally check out.
The main difference between my old writing style and my current style is how I space out my paragraphs 😂
Tagging @infp-obsessing-over-everything, @beautifulcheat, @tasyfa, @maeglinthebold, @gritkitty ❤️
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