Chronicles of a Fake Geek Girl
May. 2nd, 2016 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rynlingOver the weekend I submitted two essays to one of my favorite gaming websites. I had pitched them in advance, and the editor responded positively.
Both started as responses to something someone said on Tumblr, but I decided that the research and effort I put into both pieces, as well as their broader relevance to gaming cultures, outweighs the limited attention that either of them would find within my tiny circles.
I've written professionally about games before, but never for an actual gaming website. I experienced a high level of anxiety concerning my submissions, especially since both ideas originated in fandom. To me, there's a clear disconnect between my fannish voice and the discursive space of online journalism, and I feel a strange sort of guilt for blurring the line, as if I'm somehow betraying fandom by having taken advantage of it as a source of professional inspiration. Then again, I myself feel betrayed by fandom, which has largely failed to reciprocate the investment of time and emotional energy I've put into it.
Of course none of this really matters, as there's no guarantee that either article will run on this particular site. Also, I sincerely doubt anyone is paying any sort of attention to what I do or say, so I should probably just get over myself.
Both started as responses to something someone said on Tumblr, but I decided that the research and effort I put into both pieces, as well as their broader relevance to gaming cultures, outweighs the limited attention that either of them would find within my tiny circles.
I've written professionally about games before, but never for an actual gaming website. I experienced a high level of anxiety concerning my submissions, especially since both ideas originated in fandom. To me, there's a clear disconnect between my fannish voice and the discursive space of online journalism, and I feel a strange sort of guilt for blurring the line, as if I'm somehow betraying fandom by having taken advantage of it as a source of professional inspiration. Then again, I myself feel betrayed by fandom, which has largely failed to reciprocate the investment of time and emotional energy I've put into it.
Of course none of this really matters, as there's no guarantee that either article will run on this particular site. Also, I sincerely doubt anyone is paying any sort of attention to what I do or say, so I should probably just get over myself.
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Date: 2016-05-02 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-05-02 07:57 pm (UTC)I just got an email saying that one of the articles is going to run tomorrow, and I'll send you a private message with a link.
The Real Name™ stuff is tricky. The site respects fan authors, and so its writer profiles contain a level of... encryption? I guess you could say, using only first names and last initials and then linking to other social media, where the writer may or may not be going by their full name. In my case, I'm linking to my Twitter account, where I go by my real name, but the icon I've chosen to represent myself on the author profile page is an altered version of the icon I use on Tumblr.
Since I write and reblog fic about video game characters committing all manner of sin, I try not to cross the streams of my fannish and professional identities. Using variations the same icon feels kind of scary to me, but that's a risk I'm willing to take in order to lay some claim to an identity as a person who walks in both worlds.
LOOK AT ME I AM SUBVERSIVE.
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Date: 2016-05-02 08:16 pm (UTC)Occasionally I think about crossing streams, but I know that path leads to madness.
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Date: 2016-05-03 08:17 pm (UTC)The theme of my essay is "shitty gamer, hates games." I HOPE YOU APPRECIATE THIS.
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Date: 2016-05-02 09:08 pm (UTC)