Yeah, you definitely win on the obscurity and lack-of-discussion front. No arguments there
Although I suppose someone could argue that watching 1960s/1970s non-genre UK shows and then complaining at the lack of a fandom is probably cheating, if wilful obscurity is a competition. (I regret nothing, except maybe attempting to watch Gerry Anderson's UFO. But on the other hand they all wore eyeliner and drove purple cars and it was in 60s technicolor and they killed David Collings again, so after all, I regret nothing.)
And that's true - time probably will make a difference. And I can see that it's frustrating - it's always frustrating when you can't have a conversation about the random things that are burning in your head, whatever they may be. And, yes, fandom can be so good at providing that outlet, and even though logic comprehends why x is not a fannish thing, the heart and bits of the brain don't at all and want people to join in just the same.
Academic writing tends to just...summarize, like they're enlightening their audience about a strange phenomenon which needs merely to be catalogued for it's significance to be understood.
:lol: I can imagine that all too easily. I wanted to write about series fiction for children when I was at uni, but there was absolutely no literature and I ended up writing about Enid Blyton. And when I was at a library conference and found a book about series fiction, it was about stuff like Arthur Ransome, and not Rainbow Magic and Goosebumps - I wanted some writing about how that kind of new-but-familiar encourages literary and how children read and, blah.
So, anyway, I am not much use because I don't watch any of those shows, but I'll sympathise with the frustration. I know the feeling, even if in my case, it's because I went off the edge of the map on purpose and deserve everything I get.
no subject
Although I suppose someone could argue that watching 1960s/1970s non-genre UK shows and then complaining at the lack of a fandom is probably cheating, if wilful obscurity is a competition. (I regret nothing, except maybe attempting to watch Gerry Anderson's UFO. But on the other hand they all wore eyeliner and drove purple cars and it was in 60s technicolor and they killed David Collings again, so after all, I regret nothing.)
And that's true - time probably will make a difference. And I can see that it's frustrating - it's always frustrating when you can't have a conversation about the random things that are burning in your head, whatever they may be. And, yes, fandom can be so good at providing that outlet, and even though logic comprehends why x is not a fannish thing, the heart and bits of the brain don't at all and want people to join in just the same.
Academic writing tends to just...summarize, like they're enlightening their audience about a strange phenomenon which needs merely to be catalogued for it's significance to be understood.
:lol: I can imagine that all too easily. I wanted to write about series fiction for children when I was at uni, but there was absolutely no literature and I ended up writing about Enid Blyton. And when I was at a library conference and found a book about series fiction, it was about stuff like Arthur Ransome, and not Rainbow Magic and Goosebumps - I wanted some writing about how that kind of new-but-familiar encourages literary and how children read and, blah.
So, anyway, I am not much use because I don't watch any of those shows, but I'll sympathise with the frustration. I know the feeling, even if in my case, it's because I went off the edge of the map on purpose and deserve everything I get.