artemisastarte:

ghislainem70:

anarfea:

fierceawakening:

anarfea:

fierceawakening:

lookashiny:

fierceawakening:

dendritic-trees:

lazaefair:

pearwaldorf:

minim-calibre:

rashaka:

Unpopular Opinion – Reflections on a culture of nice in ficdom

AO3 has ‘comments’ and ff.net has ‘reviews’. They serve the same surface function but this distinction is powerful in its consequences, especially once bulk fandoms started posting more on ao3 and less on ff.net.

Everyone is terrified to give criticism on AO3 lest they be called a monster or a bully. And the reasons to discourage it are grounded in empathy and a culture of positivity that on the surface, seems like it can’t be argued with. Who can dispute the idea that “if you can’t say something nice to you shouldn’t say anything at all”? FWIW, I think this is part of a bigger system of fear-based cultural trends in fandom social platforms as a whole, but I’ll contain my opinion to AO3 for a moment.

Here’s the truth: getting negative feedback of any kind is hard. It stays with you. It sucks. Sometimes it’s not about your story at all, it’s just harassment about fandom drama. Or sometimes it is about your story and it’s just really mean. And if you’re an active fan or prolific writer, you’ll see more of the grossness bc people like to target someone who stands out. Sometimes it’s not huge or evil it’s just something that didn’t work for the reader and they’re letting you know.

Here’s another truth: when you develop a group culture where all critical/negative feedback is treated like an insult or attack, no matter how mild, you eventually eliminate the spaces for people to provide useful, informative, or sincere criticism. Instead of a space where it’s understood that this is a working community and everyone is here to grow and be better, it’s just about the author posting their art and closing their eyes to any type of response that isn’t reassuring.

In years past on ff.net, in fandoms like BtVs, anime, Harry Potter, AtLA… I would give detailed feedback on chapters, the things I loved, the things that confused me, the things I thought didn’t make sense, the typos they might have missed, where I thought it was true to characters or not. I also received a lot of reviews to this effect. These could be a page long. It was common. If I read a fic that had parts that didn’t sit well with me, I said so, very openly, in a review. I also got messages that did the same.

Because it wasn’t a comment, it was a review. And that difference is huge.

So what’s upshot? From the conversations I’ve had and read, many authors prefer the AO3 culture. They don’t want to be reviewed, they want only supportive comments. And emotionally, I get that. I really do. I’ve been writing since 2001 in over 20 fandoms and I’ve received pretty much any kind of good or bad response that one can get for a story.

But doing it this way, we have lost something. We’ve lost a community that fosters writing and, by extension, internet communication, in a way that teaches you to accept the slings and arrows of public discourse gracefully. We’ve lost a culture that trains you to realize that you can get a flaming horrendous response to art that you posted and it’s not the end of the world. You don’t have to quit fandom and you don’t have to cry for an hour over it. You learn to treat it like noise and you learn to pull the critical value from it that you can. Having a culture that fosters criticism doesn’t just make you hardened against petty bullshit, but it also means someone can feel comfortable saying “I didn’t dig this part of the story and here’s why” and they’ll know it’s not about you and you know it’s not about you, so it doesn’t feel like your heart is getting carved out. There’s a space for talking about the work as a work.

I know that I’m a pretty good writer. I’m not the most consistent or the most creative or the most impactful, and I definitely don’t have the artistic discipline to write a novel sized story. There’s things I need to learn and ways I can improve. But I’m pretty fair at putting a sentence together. While most of that is from practice, I think no small amount is that I learned to write at a point in online fandom culture where I got all forms of feedback, not just approval. I whined a lot at the time, but the criticisms (and my responses to them) shaped me as much as the approvals.

It made me a stronger writer, and even more importantly, it gave me the tools to know when to let something affect me and when to let it slide down my back. It taught me to draw a line between my emotional self and internet drama.

That is a line that is badly, badly needed in fandom right now. We need the ability to talk about things without giving and taking personal offense. We need to respect that there are things we don’t like out there but still cannot and should not change, because our right to exist freely depends on theirs.

By eliminating any small negativities of any kind from our fanfic writing experience (in the name of protection and politeness), writers are growing up weaker. Their writing is weaker, their ability to handle criticism is weaker, their ability to give criticism is basically non-existent, and the subsequent drive toward conformity means everything is a lot more vanilla. There’s less weirdness, less wildness, less original characters and less of anything that isn’t default pleasant or familiar.

I can’t change this, I know that. Many people don’t think these problems I’m describing are happening at all bc it doesn’t match their fandom experience. They wouldn’t change it at all, to them it’s progress. At different times in the past I’ve contributed to the same stuff I’m now calling a problem. It’s taken a while (years) to accept that the community has shifted and that I’m part of that. Because it seemed to make sense and there’s some very moving discussions about keeping things positive to protect the author’s delicate self.

I’m not delicate though. And spending my formative teen fanfic years in a world where feedback was open is one of the reasons why. It made me a better writer and a tougher writer. And I know, from personal conversations, that I’m not at all alone in citing this.

End of the day, this is just reflection. I too conform to the culture of stifling-nice on AO3 comments bc I know that if I did start leaving critical feedback (even wrapped in a nice compliment sandwich), many writers would not know how to react to it. To them, I’d be an interfering bullying jerk who didn’t stay in my lane of being a passive, blindly supportive consumer. And that… well that state of affairs is a real pity, I think. It’s also a pity because fear of saying the wrong thing or an insufficient thing is one of the most commonly cited reasons that people say they don’t leave comments. I’d rather have more comments and accept some critical ones in the mix than to be living in the feedback drought that that is so prevalent. So yeah, I’m sorry this has happened and I’m sorry I contributed to it. As much as I love AO3, and will continue to support it, champion it, part of me also resents that they led us to this.

I think in the dream of making things kinder, we’ve fundamentally made fandom weaker, inside and out. And that weakness leads to people who, when they are faced with challenges, act out of fear, not out of reflection or respect.

Good intentions, y’all. Good intentions. We treated each other like babies, and now we’re vulnerable like them.

I don’t know how much of it is AO3 and how much of it is that the early culture of AO3 was influenced strongly by parts of fandom that didn’t really have a huge public review culture. We come from similar eras and had overlap in fandoms and flists, but you were a lot more active on ff.net than I ever was–I deleted my account when the NC-17 ban hit–and than a lot of the other people I knew in fandom were, including a lot of the early AO3 users.

I seldom saw critical reviews left publicly in the non-ff.net places where I posted stories and seldom got them myself. (Even with mailing lists, it wasn’t something that happened a lot.) The understanding was that crit wasn’t something to be attached to the permanent home of the story, but rather something handled either one-on-one or off in the reviewer’s own space, and that culture and those mores carried over to AO3.

I, personally, have always hated the idea of public critical reviews attached to my actual content–back when I used to post things on LJ where it was posted as a clearly-stated draft with changes that would come, I did invite critique, but public critique was never as useful to me as was having a strong stable of beta readers. (My biggest critique of that kind of critique was that it almost always was about sections I already knew were the weakest, didn’t actually give me anything to go on as to how to fix that, and was therefore like a beta, but without the useful stuff, and there where I could see it and grow more and more neurotic about it, because writing with an anxiety disorder is SO MUCH FUN, OMG.)

What I’d like to see more of is something I had early on, and that’s workshopping communities where you’ve got a certain amount of trust in your reviewer built into the whole deal: you know their strengths, both as a writer and a reviewer, and you know their weaknesses, and you can take that into account when taking their feedback into account. Which may be close to what you had in your communities on ff.net, back in the day.

How to get those started up again? Hell if I know. Maybe there are Discords, but my fandoms these days are so small that I’d basically need to force-feed everyone my canon, brainwash them into actually liking it, and then convincing them they really want to read thousands of words of pointless character study, so it’s all been sort of a theoretical desire on my part.

(Side note: my main reason for seldom leaving comments is a sheepish “I’m usually reading on my phone and it’s a pain in the ass and I always MEAN to do it when I’m back at a keyboard and then, well, I don’t.” and I think a lot of people, if they are actually being honest with themselves, are in that same lazy mobile boat.)

There are absolutely no circumstances in which I would consider unsolicited feedback from strangers, however kindly phrased, helpful. As Neil Gaiman said, 

“When people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.” Unless you’re talking about SPAG, it is very unlikely that I would take that feedback under advisement. 

It’s not because I’m thin-skinned. When I send things off for beta, my betas are unsparing and mean, and I welcome that. It helps me improve as a writer. But here’s the thing: I have a level of trust with and respect for my betas (who are usually friends in my writer circles) that you just can’t build without time. We understand each other, we know our strengths and weaknesses, and can work around those. 

If there are fanfic writers’ groups out there (I mean, there must be, but idk where to find them), I think that is much more useful than putting your work out in public for critique. 

I don’t know what the fuck fanfic communities OP was in, but I’ve been in fandom for 18 years spanning all manner of private archives, forums, Geocities, ff.net, LJ, Mediaminer, Dreamwidth, and AO3, and literally never, never have I ever seen any culture other than “concrit is welcome only when the writer requests it.”

Sure, we had badfic communities, rants and essays aplenty on our personal journals, parody fics, lots of general tutorials hoping to educate writers (Minotaur’s Slash Guide, anyone?), but it was always considered extremely rude to leave the concrit in the comments of the story itself if the writer had not explicitly asked for it.

I picked this up from pretty much the beginning, at age 12, and it made sense to me even then. Fanfiction is a fun hobby. For fun. Do we all want to improve? Sure. And because we do, we ask for help – from people we think can help us. To be perfectly blunt, the vast majority of the unsolicited “advice” I’ve received over the years from people who ignored the cultural norm (which, again, I observed to be consistent across multiple websites and platforms) was worthless anyway, as it came from people who were either worse writers than me or had conflated their own personal aesthetic preferences with valid concrit. No thanks. This isn’t my professional job with professional standards and professional editors. For starters: professional editors have actual credentials and experience. I’m just laughing at the idea that all Rando Internet Readers would have the same guaranteed level of value to add to my work.

Tl;dr I’ve never once encountered a fanfic community where unsolicited criticism was considered normal.

I think OP is more right than they are wrong.

That said I don’t think their fandom experience is at all typical. I definitely never got a page long detailed review on ff.net.

The trouble is that, even once we exclude the troll/flame reviews from consideration, as is only fitting, most reviews are just not interesting, or helpful. Most reviews are, at the end of the day, either “I liked this” or “I didn’t like this”, which, even if I’m desperate for critique is just not helpful. There’s nothing to take from that.

But the other trouble with what the follow up posters are saying is that while I’m glad that they have access to a robust beta community, most people don’t. I’ve been in fandom for years, I have never had a regular beta reader, I have no idea where I would go about finding one, or how. I have never seen any explanation of how this works. Literally never.

I started off writing original fiction and later got into fanfic, and… the attitude that constructive criticism is mean and unhelpful is completely foreign to me. In original fiction the goal is (generally) ultimately to sell your work, and for it to be ready for that, multiple people have to pretty ruthlessly seek out any of the sort of obvious mistakes that might lead to “lol don’t buy this thing.”

Endlessly nice comments on my fic flatter me but they also kind of feel fake. There’s NOTHING in all 10,000 words of this thing that confused you or felt unrealistic? Seriously no fooling?

Because I’d like to think I’m that awesome…

… but I’m pretty sure no one is.

Fandom writers are strangely against criticism unless it comes from, basically, one vector, that being betas. The idea that you can take criticism of one work and apply it to another doesn’t seem to occur to most of them. I understand that it’s an unpaid hobby, but not wanting to improve at all, or only in limited ways, puzzles me.

That, yes.

I think it’s really unfair to say that because someone doesn’t want unsolicited concrit they don’t want to improve. It’s just that there is a time and a place for concrit, and it’s not in the comments section of a fic. If I want concrit I’ll ask my writing group, or my beta readers. And I’ll receive it at a time and a place where I’m expecting it. When I go into my AO3 comments I’m expecting to get praise. Getting negative feedback instead harshes my mood, basically.

Okay, and that seems to be the fandom cultural norm.

I’m just saying that, like Op and a few others here, I wish it weren’t.

You said “that, yes,” to a comment about how people who only want concrit from betas “don’t want to improve at all.” That’s what I said was unfair. And honestly that was me downplaying it a lot, because in fact I find OP’s remarks that fan writers are “babies,” and lookashiny’s insinuation that fan writers are too stupid to understand that criticisms of one work may also apply to another, really fucking hurtful and offensive. And I’m really disappointed that you, someone who I follow and respect and usually agree with, agreed with them.

I take my craft very seriously. I have an online writing group where I am almost every night where I, among other things, ask fellow writers for help and feedback. I have a group of betas who beta one another’s work. We can be pretty fucking harsh with one another. I routinely completely scrap chapters, re-write scenes from scratch, and edit and edit to get a story right.

I get that you’re a pro, and that you have a sort of strained relationship with fanfic and fan writers and that you don’t like some of the norms of fandom. But you can say, “I wish I got more concrit on my fics because I have trouble believing that comments containing only praise are sincere,” without endorsing “people who only want feedback from betas don’t know how to take concrit or want to improve.” And you didn’t, here. And it made me feel pretty shitty.

I could not disagree more with OP, particularly the outright sweeping statement that fan writers and fan writing are “weaker” now than in the mythical glory days of ff.net. Excuse me while I vomit into the nearest convenient potted plant. I think most people agree that AO3 is home to an overall higher quality of writing, by any standard, than on ff.net. I note OP admits they haven’t written anything novel-length, which may or may not test one’s mettle as a writer but as one who has written several, I’m not about to tolerate OP suggesting that writers who have tackled something they have not are “weak.” I would not trust the judgment of any but a carefully curated group of betas, or in the case of my original fic, paid editors and proofreaders, that I trust in respect to giving legitimate constructive criticism. I rarely respond to and regularly delete the few negative, whiny or demanding comments left on my fic. I write as a free gift to fandom. I am utterly uninterested in the opinion of any reader for whom my writing doesn’t work, distresses or offends. DL;DR. AO3 is not a writing workshop. If I want to attend one, I’ve got resources to do that and I am pretty choosy there, too, as to the value I receive in return for my time, money, effort and emotional investment. Who appointed OP the arbiter of what it takes to be a writer who “wants to improve?” Who says that fan writers must strive to improve at all? It’s a highly personal thing, and writers come from vastly varied backgrounds, languages, access to resources, time, health, etc. Where fic is concerned, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I cannot imagine that OP has the slightest insight into what hard work goes into most of the writing I see in my fandoms (Sherlock and ACD Holmes). But I’ll defend the right of writers of any level of application or skill to post their work on AO3 and share it without being subjected to self-important “reviewing” from self-appointed “critics.” That kind of negative feedback does nothing but discourage writers. Contrary to OP’s suggestion, there is no desire or need in the AO3 fan writer community to “toughen up” emotionally by running a gauntlet of eager “critics” when they want to share their work. AO3 is not a marketplace, it is an archive.

@ghislainem70 I agree with you. AO3 is not a marketplace. It’s an archive. It is a central repository where we can place fiction we’ve written. If people don’t like it, they don’t have to read it. They can nope out at any time, and certainly with my one offering to the ACD Holmes/Watson world, I know that they do. What I write isn’t everyone’s glass of tea. It’s too long, too wordy, too fussy and I’m absolutely sure there are too many commas. But some people find value in it: it speaks to them. And here’s the thing: that fic you read and think “I don’t like this” is someone else’s thing. It’s their glass of tea. It speaks to their soul in a way it doesn’t to yours. Or hers. Or theirs.

Also, you may think, “objectively, this is badly written”. You may burn to tell the author “FFS, why don’t you understand you can’t start a sentence like that?” You may think “goodness, if only they’d stop using that word, or vary their sentences, or not do this or that: I don’t like it, I think it’s wrong. It would be so much better if …”

But that thought in itself is a value judgement laden with cultural and class preconceptions and prejudices. By telling a writer, who is putting their soul out there “you should write this way or you’re wrong” or “your work does not conform to this standard” you are privileging your learned means of communication over theirs in terms of validity. And that, I think, is not ok on that forum: it’s not what the forum is there for.

I say this as a Cambridge graduate, a classicist trained in parsing grammar, and the daughter of unusual academic privilege: my means of expression is no more valid that anyone’s. The way I put words together because of what I’ve learned is no more valid than the most tentative steps of a neophyte writer struggling to put their soul on paper. (And don’t even get me started about the courage of those who write in a different language to their mother tongue!)

Remember: my idea of “correct grammar” is a culturally determined concept based on adherence to rules derived from languages aren’t even spoken any more but are still privileged by a predominantly white male hegemony. If you, a writer, want to smash that construct, if you want to elide its “rules”, break its bones and reassemble them, turn and twist it and subvert it to your own use, then I’m not going to utter a syllable that will cross your right to do so. If you don’t know how to use it “correctly” I’m not going to tell you “do it this way”. And spelling? Also culturally and temporarily determined. Yeah, if you see a spelling that’s “wrong” it pulls you out of your flow, maybe. If that bothers you, stop reading. I’m sure Mr William Shakespeare – or Shaksper, or Shakespere, or whatever other variant he used would approve.

Your language is your language. Forge it in your own fires and then go out and batter down the doors of meaning. Because your writing (on AO3 at least) is for you.

If AO3 were a writing forum where writers posted specifically for concrit, then there might be a place for it. But it isn’t, is it? It’s a place where we go to show our ideas, pour out our souls, wrestle with our demons. For many, it is, I think, a confessional: here is what I feel, I dream, I wish, I long for. Here is what consoles me, pleases me, arouses me, hurts me.

I don’t see AO3 as a place for gatekeeping, or policing, or holding to a “standard”. Perhaps LJ was more like that: it’s not my place, so I don’t know. I dislike the LJ interface, and find AO3 easier to use. And this isn’t about being “nice”.

No-one is forcing anyone to comment on a fic. You don’t have to leave kudos. You can stop reading at any time. This is about courtesy and self-knowledge: the courtesy to allow a writer their space – which may be the only safe space they have. It’s about the self-knowledge to understand why you feel a need to offer unasked for concrit. Why do you feel you need to? Why do you have the right to? Where does it get you? How does it benefit the writer?

Let’s answer those questions too shall we?

I need to because … my version of the language is correct: the writer’s is not. I have the right to because … my means of communication is more valid than theirs. It gets me … into a place where I validate my means of communication as opposed to theirs; I privilege my experience and understanding over theirs. It benefits the writer because … now they will understand how to perform the “correct” way of writing, which is my way, and will validate me by accepting it. See how that makes you sound?

There is a place for concrit: writing workshops, betas, tutorials, mentoring. Personally, I don’t see AO3 as that place. And you know what? I think it’s really fucking disrespectful to call the lack of concrit on AO3 a culture of ‘nice’ and imply that it’s all vanilla and boring, and we’re “babying” people because we can’t get into good meaty arguments about “Ooh, look, so-and-so didn’t use this word or construct this sentence correctly, or has a plot hole you can drive a bus through, or really needs to work on their characterisation.”

For some – perhaps for most – people who post fanfics on AO3, putting themselves out there may be the most courageous thing they ever do. They may be writing to express deeply felt needs, to salve bitter wounds, to try out their voices in a new song, to unfold barely feathered wings and try to fly. They may simply be writing to have fun, to play, to amuse themselves or others.

But however, or whyever they’re writing, they are not, dear critic, writing for you to criticise them. They’re not writing for concrit, unless they ask. They’re not writing to be told to adhere to standards they may not even understand fully. They are writing for themselves, and for the souls that their work speaks to. So if you are someone who delights in offering concrit, perhaps you’d be better off finding someone who wants it, not offering it unsolicited?

It’s not ‘babyish’ of me not to want your unsolicited criticisms and advice on how I can be a better writer. I have plenty of people I can ask about that. It’s just rude, and superior, and aggressively privileged of you to drive by me in your armoured arrogance as I sit at the roadside, stoop to look at the simple cloth I’ve laid out in front of me, hoping that it might please a buyer or two, and tell me it should be better: “embroider it here: snip out this bit, patch the hole, mend the warp, pick up that stitch.” Just drive on by, if you don’t want my cloth. And if you get out to have a closer look, tread softly, because, as Yeats said, “you tread on my dreams”.