Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.
“Fan fiction is what literature might look like if it were reinvented from scratch after a nuclear apocalypse by a band of brilliant pop-culture junkies trapped in a sealed bunker. They don’t do it for money. That’s not what it’s about. The writers write it and put it up online just for the satisfaction. They’re fans, but they’re not silent, couchbound consumers of media. The culture talks to them, and they talk back to the culture in its own language.”
(This is really good, especially for a large mainstream publication! IMO what it misses is that in the history of human storytelling, what they call “literature” is really the outlier. If fanfic is what storytelling would look like after an apocalypse, that’s because fanfic is what storytelling has looked like since soon after humans started telling stories, basically – shared culture, remixing, commentary, reexamination, reversal.)
I got an email from a guy who said that he was really depressed and was about to hurt himself when a friend called and asked him to go dancing. He said no, he didn’t want to go out. And then after he hung up the phone, he remembered that line: “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy.” So he called the friend back, went dancing, had a great time, decided not to kill himself and wrote me a letter saying, “That line saved my life.” I was weeping [reading that]. What an offhand line to end up being so meaningful to someone. That blew my mind. (x)
“From when I was young, my father told me to ‘be a human, above all,’ but he never told me what do to specifically. So I thought about what I can do myself, to be able to recognized as a human being, regardless of where I am. That’s when I began to always want to stay courteous and humble.”
“I’m an extrovert
Yes, that smile was for you
and I came today just to see you
I share pieces of my heart,
in case if somebody needs them,
and I let you touch my soul
if you promise you won’t break it No, I’m not necessarily shallow
and even though my feathers get color with you
the brightest ones I much rather keep in private where they are born – where they shall belong
And my heart is i n s i d e
me.
And even it might not look like it
my mind and soul roams
to foreign roads to grasslands and skies, spaces, yet unknown mazes”
“’I am very pleased with the atmospheric conditions we are experiencing today. The lack of clouds have allowed the sun to show through, thus making electrical lighting unnecessary. Uh-NESS-a-sarry. Uh-NESS-ussery. Also, the lack of precipitation has kept my artificial skin from becoming uncomfortably damp, which -’
‘Ax?’ I interrupted.
‘Yes, Marco?’
‘Stop that. Please.’
‘Come on, Marco,’ Tobias said. ‘He’s just practicing his small talk. We spent hours on it last night.’
‘Thank you again, Marco,’ Ax said, ‘for inviting me to this primitive yet interesting ceremony.’
‘My pleasure, Ax-man. Do not go near the buffet table.’
‘How do you define “near”?’
‘Ax, I’m telling you: No food.’”
– Book #35: The Proposal (Marco), pg. 144 (by K.A. Applegate)
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