Ioan Nemos
A.K.A. AJ, Abbie, Abigail, Ioanni, Ioanni Cash, and a host of other aliases.
I've been into fan fiction since probably the age of 8 or 9. It started with the original Star Wars trilogy. My older sister and I used to wonder about what happened off camera, what if this happened, what if that happened?
What was probably a few years later, I found out that other people did this too, and it was available on the internet. Having moved on from Star Wars at this point, I ventured into Lord of the Rings fan fiction and realized some things quickly:
1. There is a lot of sick-and-wrong trash out there
2. There are also gems for those who search for them
3. I love angst
I don't remember either when I found the Mellon Chronicles, but its combination of bromance, angst, thrills, and (finally!) decent editing sucked me in quickly. For weeks I was obsessed, staying on the computer much later than I was supposed to, reading as fast as I could, heart pounding, hoping that at the end of the next break we would no longer be dangling off the cliff so I could get off the computer and not be distracted all the next day wondering What happens next, what happens next, WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?! It was probably the Mellon Chronicles that really got me writing fan fiction of my own.
Naturally, my first attempts were awful, terrible, ugh-why-did-I-write-this pieces of trash, but lost data from computer changes have thankfully pulled them from memory (mostly ::shudder:: ). As time went on, I moved from fandom to fandom, imagining new and awful, terrible things to do to my favorite characters, and the stories I worked on grew and grew. I also (I flatter myself) have gotten to be a better writer.
Years passed. Then January of 2010 came, and came bringing a present: Sherlock Holmes. I made up my mind to read through my sister's copy of "The Complete Sherlock Holmes". I came, I gaped, I fell in love -- with the characters, with the relationships, with the ideas, with the fog and the rain and the grand results drawn from tiny details and the tobacco in the Persian slipper and the teasing hints of untold tales -- and I have been an incorruptible Sherlockian since.
What spare time I have I spend writing, drawing, and musing, planning, plotting, and wandering in the endless possibilities offered to authors, climbing the rugged terrain of fan fiction and my own worlds, looking for sweeping vistas of character development, finding sparkling jewels of plot ideas, and drinking the pure waters of wonder at nearly everything I see.
... Okay, that might not have come out quite like I meant it. But sometimes, it really feels like that. And that's why I'm a writer.
I've been into fan fiction since probably the age of 8 or 9. It started with the original Star Wars trilogy. My older sister and I used to wonder about what happened off camera, what if this happened, what if that happened?
What was probably a few years later, I found out that other people did this too, and it was available on the internet. Having moved on from Star Wars at this point, I ventured into Lord of the Rings fan fiction and realized some things quickly:
1. There is a lot of sick-and-wrong trash out there
2. There are also gems for those who search for them
3. I love angst
I don't remember either when I found the Mellon Chronicles, but its combination of bromance, angst, thrills, and (finally!) decent editing sucked me in quickly. For weeks I was obsessed, staying on the computer much later than I was supposed to, reading as fast as I could, heart pounding, hoping that at the end of the next break we would no longer be dangling off the cliff so I could get off the computer and not be distracted all the next day wondering What happens next, what happens next, WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?! It was probably the Mellon Chronicles that really got me writing fan fiction of my own.
Naturally, my first attempts were awful, terrible, ugh-why-did-I-write-this pieces of trash, but lost data from computer changes have thankfully pulled them from memory (mostly ::shudder:: ). As time went on, I moved from fandom to fandom, imagining new and awful, terrible things to do to my favorite characters, and the stories I worked on grew and grew. I also (I flatter myself) have gotten to be a better writer.
Years passed. Then January of 2010 came, and came bringing a present: Sherlock Holmes. I made up my mind to read through my sister's copy of "The Complete Sherlock Holmes". I came, I gaped, I fell in love -- with the characters, with the relationships, with the ideas, with the fog and the rain and the grand results drawn from tiny details and the tobacco in the Persian slipper and the teasing hints of untold tales -- and I have been an incorruptible Sherlockian since.
What spare time I have I spend writing, drawing, and musing, planning, plotting, and wandering in the endless possibilities offered to authors, climbing the rugged terrain of fan fiction and my own worlds, looking for sweeping vistas of character development, finding sparkling jewels of plot ideas, and drinking the pure waters of wonder at nearly everything I see.
... Okay, that might not have come out quite like I meant it. But sometimes, it really feels like that. And that's why I'm a writer.