#i just sometimes wish the fandom could be too :/ whatever I'm just a history nerd

[doodlepede]

i just think it's annoying that the discourse around Goncharov is centered around whether it's queerbaiting (it's not, the hays code was in effect only ten years previously, and everyone knows there's conflicting info about how long the film was in development hell 🙄) when we COULD be talking about how the characters relationships represent contemporary fears regarding international relations. that's where the real conversation is

like why do you think katya is like that? yes because she's bisexual but more importantly, 1973 hello, that's cold-war era and where does the film start? the collapse of the soviet fuckin union. obviously her relationship being strained by goncharov's obsession with andrei is a reference to that conflict, hence homoeroticism with sofia. DUH. Italy had the largest communist party in Europe at the time the film was made like this doesn't even need explaining just fucking watch it, it's there, like i can't. like please get real can we talk about this

[emmg]

Serious Writing Can Go Eat Ass: A Memoir

As someone who professionally churns out words for the academic circle jerk—a place where people basically worship the Chicago Manual of Style—it feels like there's this massive disdain, or maybe more like unfiltered contempt, for anything resembling fun in writing. Want to spice up an article with some personality? Throw in a funny quote? Craft a clever phrase that might break the mind-numbing monotony? Well, too bad. It will be swiftly dismissed and frowned upon by "peers" who clutch their red pens like they’re about to perform a literary exorcism.

This disdain doesn’t just stop at academic writing either. Oh no, it follows you into your creative life, like a clingy ex, making you feel guilty for producing anything outside the suffocating realm of “serious” content. You want to write something a little frivolous? Maybe funny? Maybe smutty? Maybe just angsty trash? Well, you better remember that it's not "serious" writing, and thus, has no worth. Or maybe you’ll hear that professor's voice in your head, the one who scrawled passive-aggressive margin notes admonishing you for taking a single, harmless stylistic risk. And just like that, it becomes second nature to hate or feel embarrassed by whatever you produce for fun.

Don’t get me wrong, I love academia. I’ve worked as a model since my early teens, which means I’ve spent most of my life living in a constant state of disconnection—always moving, always on the outside looking in. So, I turned inward, and I read. And read. And read some more. I learned and absorbed everything I could. When I finally made it to university and discovered this obsessive, laser-focused intellectual pursuit—complete with professors who actually encouraged my hyperfixation—it was like stepping into nerd heaven. The research, the archives, the thrill of translating that one obscure quote, the victory of pestering some librarian across the country for months and finally getting access to those oral histories—it’s exhilarating. I’m addicted.

But man, does this “serious” environment suck the joy out of anything that isn’t deemed important or intellectual. It’s fantastic at making you feel ashamed for enjoying "lesser" forms of creativity.

In this essay I will—no, but seriously, let me just give you my Ted Talk on how traditional writing conventions can absolutely, 100% eat ass. Maybe quite literally. They drain all the enjoyment out of writing. I love writing, but I hate looking at what I produce because of it.

On the flip side, I absolutely love the time we’re living in. Thank God for AO3. I adore fanfiction. I love that there’s no joy-sucking overlord policing my words when I get lost in a fandom and write purely for the fun of it. That’s true freedom.

This is exactly why I'm so hardcore about the whole comments/kudos culture. I will absolutely drown anyone who graciously shares their work with the world in praise. Why? Because I freaking love what they create, and I refuse to let anyone feel the way I do—like their creativity doesn’t matter. So yes, thank you, bless you, saint you, for sharing your fanfiction. I will devour every word, and then I’ll devour you, dear author, in an avalanche of gratitude. Keep writing, or I swear, I'll find you and flood your inbox with even more love.

I really wish my professional life hadn’t done such an impressive job of absolutely wrecking my self-esteem when it comes to personal writing. I don’t even give a second glance at what I toss out into the world anymore. Just yeet it into the depths of AO3 and forget it ever existed. Notifications? Turned off. Comments? Oh, I’m far too mortified to respond—though I make a half-hearted attempt sometimes. It’s that weird feeling of being undeserving, or embarrassed, or something equally stupid.

I don’t even know if I’m alone in this feeling. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. It’s just a random slice of my thoughts. I’m 28, I shouldn’t feel like I have to hate my creative side for not being “serious.” I’m too young to be this bitter about what I create. Not that there’s an age limit on this kind of existential dread. Anyway, thanks for coming to my impromptu mental breakdown. Peace.