![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
A Maudlin Moment
Once Upon A Time, a girl was incredibly fond of a TV show. For a very brief golden moment early in the fandom, she could even say that she owned anything to do with it. But she wasn't the only one nuts about the show, and the moment passed.
But she made notebooks. She went to the cons and filled them up with 8 x 10 glossies. She got a camera and filled up more with candids and pictures of friends and costumes. A friend sent her cards in the name of the protagonist, and she put them in notebooks. Starlog after Starlog article went in. Postcards and original art went in. She wrote a story that was amazingly popular with the fandom, and a copy of the accompanying art went in. She wrote a letter to Starlog that... wasn't... but it went in as well, along with a clipped-out copy of the rebuttal telling her to "get off it."
Once Upon A Time, there were a dozen of those notebooks, although three of them were repurposed somewhere along the line, their contents stuffed into the others. Archived. Organized. Kept carefully.
Once Upon A Time...
... was twenty years ago. And today, while a repairman bumped around the attic performing arcane proctology on her air conditioning system, every last petted, envied, bragged-about page was put into a box. The notebooks were lined up along the floor and soon buried under new piles of contents. Shawl and wrap patterns. Scarves - lace and winter. Apparel. Socks and slippers. Who Fandom patterns. Random Fandom patterns. Washcloths and cat toys. Afghans.
And for a moment she wondered what she'd fill them with next, twenty years hence when now is Once Upon A Time.
But she made notebooks. She went to the cons and filled them up with 8 x 10 glossies. She got a camera and filled up more with candids and pictures of friends and costumes. A friend sent her cards in the name of the protagonist, and she put them in notebooks. Starlog after Starlog article went in. Postcards and original art went in. She wrote a story that was amazingly popular with the fandom, and a copy of the accompanying art went in. She wrote a letter to Starlog that... wasn't... but it went in as well, along with a clipped-out copy of the rebuttal telling her to "get off it."
Once Upon A Time, there were a dozen of those notebooks, although three of them were repurposed somewhere along the line, their contents stuffed into the others. Archived. Organized. Kept carefully.
Once Upon A Time...
... was twenty years ago. And today, while a repairman bumped around the attic performing arcane proctology on her air conditioning system, every last petted, envied, bragged-about page was put into a box. The notebooks were lined up along the floor and soon buried under new piles of contents. Shawl and wrap patterns. Scarves - lace and winter. Apparel. Socks and slippers. Who Fandom patterns. Random Fandom patterns. Washcloths and cat toys. Afghans.
And for a moment she wondered what she'd fill them with next, twenty years hence when now is Once Upon A Time.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
It's only bad when you stay in the past.
no subject
I trust, however, that you kept the box.
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)