Sometimes I wish I could sit these actors down and buy them a beer and explain to them in firm but gentle tones that fangirls and fanboys are not as hysterical or ridiculous as they are so often played up to be.
I would tell them about this one artist who once designed a trueform Castiel, and how dozens of other artists were inspired by her, and everyone made a lot of art because of her. Or this other artist who once mapped out the inside of the TARDIS and how brilliant and inspiring that was. Or these other artists who became my friends because they were trying to recreate Eowyn’s dress. Or how one writer can create an alternate universe, and it’s so well-written that it blows every young adult fiction book I’ve ever read out of the water, and how literally hundreds of other writers and artists agree with me, and they create more stories and art because of it. Or how sometimes whole groups of writers get together and write series after series of stories based on their favorite shows, and how those series are so good that I would rather have them bound and on my bookshelf instead of the novels that are there now.
I wish the brilliance was louder than the insanity or hate or wank or anything else. I wish that, when people talked about fangirls and fandom, they didn’t have to explain or give excuses, or laugh, or roll their eyes, or feel awkward, or be forewarned. Because this the smartest, most exciting, most passionate creative engine I know of. I know it has its bad moments. But when it’s good, holy cow. I really wish I could just sit down with the actors and lay my hand on their arm and say, “You should see this.”