I didn’t want to make a post or say
anything because I don’t think enough people will notice or care. But fuck
that, because I’ve got something to say.
I’m a fanfic writer for Haikyuu,
I’ve been one for over a year; going on two. I’ve written 50 fics for this fandom, and I’ve
been posting one fic or chapter update every week since the beginning of this
I write because I love writing,
because I have a lot of ideas, and because I love the characters. I
post my work because I think other people might enjoy my work, too.
But I’m also sick of it.
I’m sick of spending all my free
time on writing only to get ten notes max on my fics on tumblr. Which, you know - it might just be that people don’t like my work. But it’s not
just me. I’ve participated in events, and if you look at the pages for any
fandom-related project that includes artists and writers, I can assure you that
you’ll always find the same thing: art with over a thousand notes per pic, and
fics with less than twenty.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the art
that people are creating in the fandom, just as much as the next person. I buy
every zine I can get my hands on. I commission artists when I can.
Recently, I commissioned a writer. I
didn’t even know that was a thing until a couple months ago, and even then, I’ve
seen writers offer 1k words or more for as little as 3$. Are you fucking
kidding me. I paid 25$ for 4k and I wish I could have tipped more.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’m
done with this.
I’ve been thinking every single day
for the last three weeks that I want to just say I’m
not going to be writing anymore. Because I’ve got no more energy for this. I’ve
got enough other shit going on, and constantly being angry about how writers are
treated is not helping, and it’s not something I can turn off. Every day I’ve
been thinking “you should just go. For your sake. Stop this shit.”
I can’t do that. When I finally reached that point, and made
the decision today that I’d stop, I’m done, I’m out - I immediately felt AWFUL.
I love writing, and I love the friends I’ve made through it. I get really sweet
and supportive comments sometimes. I feel like my work has maybe impacted a
handful of people.
But I hate this. I hate the way the
fandom treats us. I hate getting 1k hits and 2 comments. I hate getting 20
notes, only one of which is a reblog. Who’s going to see my work? No one. I hate it, and I don’t know what to do
I guess that’s all. Expect a new fic
from me next week, as always. Because as much as I hate it, I can’t leave. But
I’m done pretending I’m not angry. Because I am.
-Our love is God.
-Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
-Let’s go get a slushie.
-Why are you pulling on my dick?
-Are we going to prom or to hell?
-Should I just whip it out or….?
-I thought you could rip my clothes off me, sport
-Why are you in my room?
-Do I look like Mother Teresa?
Yuri incessantly complains about the tragedy of his cursed love story. But little did he know that the flowers splashed and dotted across his new meadows fell dormant in Winter only so that they can bloom more beautifully in Spring.
Winter gives and gives and eventually dies so that Spring can truly live.