Stray Ghosts
By: T-Wolf (he/him/his, she/her/hers)
Editorial Team Member
I have known and partaken in fandom culture ever since the COVID pandemic, when the physical isolation led to me joining online communities with people that, in the words of the band AJR, “for once, like all the same shit you do.” It prompted my decision to write and post fanfiction, which I have continued well into the present. I’ve read amazing fan interpretations of characters, watched video theories for upcoming plotlines, and consumed breathtaking fanart. Though I must tread a fine line between healthy and unhealthy time spent online for it, there is a wholeness instilled by the fact that anybody, under an anonymous profile and name, can connect to my brain so well due to nothing but the imaginations of yet another’s mind. Fandom made me so aware of the fact that creativity and storytelling have never been done in a vacuum, and is most gratifying when done together, like it should be.
The tangibility of one’s interactions and activities with fellow internet strangers can easily be called into question. I believe it’s good to be able to continuously re-evaluate the state of one’s online friendships and just how much they should personally matter, whether formed in fandom or other spaces. They aren’t, and shouldn’t, be replacements for friendships formed in person. But a similarity I’ve found in either reality is that saying goodbye- or rather, the lack of a goodbye- hurts.
One of the first fandoms I found closeness in was spawned by a large fanfiction series based on a source media. I began reading it when it was still a work in progress, coming back to find a new chapter nearly every day. I did my best to keep up with the constant updates, leaving comments on just about every chapter- as did many other readers. The camaraderie between us grew when the author would intentionally break the fourth wall in their writing, allowing characters in the story to witness our reactions and actions- and even shifting the direction of the series to match our energy.
One day, a fellow commenter decided to form a discord server for fans of the fanfiction series. I eagerly flocked to it with others, even though we varied wildly in our experience with fandom etiquette and organization. Still, I remember the excitement of talking with others about possibilities for upcoming chapters, and what the characters might do. I remember reacting to plenty of fanart that was shared on the server. I remember so many alternate universes and stories we came up with together. Everything was done together.
Even when the fanfiction series was finished, it was just the beginning of our community. The author joined the server themself, eager to encourage our brainstorming. I made closer friends with some of the members that liked the same characters I did. Some of us even held a roleplay campaign together, acting as certain characters through a story premise, which sparked a whole new section of creativity. There were enough of us to talk about anything, whether it was about general life, other fandoms, or original projects. Things were hardly perfect, and of course drama could pop up occasionally, but for much of it, we stuck together. It was a relief from the chaos and uncertainty outside my home.
Though I am still part of our little community, three and a half years haven’t passed without change. It’s not nearly as active as it used to be, and some of the most beloved members are gone. We don’t talk about the fanfiction series much at all now. The original thrill has faded, and though I’m comfortable with what we’ve got now, there’s still a bittersweet nostalgia that echoes through what remains. All the memories are still available- old ideas, old arguments, old excitements, old news. Old members, that left without a word. I knew them for only a glimpse of our lives, perhaps- but in recent days, I can’t stop myself from wondering where they are, and wishing I could have some closure. We all built something together, all making up the backbone of this community. Now I’m not sure if there’s much of a backbone at all.
I don’t miss any individual. I miss the fandom as a whole, the eagerness I had to interact with everyone, and the energy we met each other with when it all began. Indeed, you truly don’t know what you had until it’s over and gone. Perhaps it’s not a tangible loss compared to in-person friends, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. I feel the lingering ache now, knowing it won’t ever be the same. Knowing I haven’t been the same.
