There is something special about a fandom. It doesn't matter whether the fandom adores Game of Thrones, cherishes the work of John and Hank Green, or gets giddy at the thought of a new Downton Abbey episode, there's something about these particular shared interests that is unique. Sure, people are unified by other interests, whether political, religious, or even shared sporting interests, but these kinds of things don't have the same level of joy that a fandom has. I was thinking about this fact after I finished reading Rainbow Rowell's newest book Fangirl this morning, a fantastic work whose protagonist is a freshman in college who enjoys writing fan fiction about Simon Snow, a Harry Potter-like figure.
There are plenty of fandoms out there for different t.v. shows, movies, or books, whether it is composed of those who love Lord of the Rings (perhaps the original fandom!), Sherlock, or the inhabitants of Nerdfighteria who closely follow all the YouTube videos of John and Hank Green and their other projects. There is, naturally enough, plenty of overlap between different fandoms; lots of people who loved The Fault in Our Stars also love Sherlock and Doctor Who--the fandoms are not mutually exclusive. As a happy, nerdy member of a number of fandoms, I've been thinking about this a fair bit lately. Why are these particular shared interests different from other ones?
The characteristic that sets a fandom apart from, say, a shared interest in golfing is the sheer level of enthusiasm that members of a fandom bring to it. When a new Harry Potter book was released, people would wait in line for hours before its official release. While I didn't read the books until long after they had all been released, I remember the releases well. People would prepare long beforehand and arrive at book stores in costume and homemade t shirts, the air seeming to crackle with their enthusiasm. It is one of my regrets in life thus far that I hadn't read the books as they came out and missed the chance to share in that excitement. There are conventions and fanfiction, merchandise and endless fan-made art, posters and t shirts, online forums and Internet memes--in short, a massive, self-replicating community.
It's the community that also sets a fandom apart, and what makes it beautiful. The fandom transcends geographical boundaries, breaks down the barrier between total strangers like nothing I've seen before. It is truly an amazing thing, and I've been lucky enough to experience it firsthand. I've seen friendships begin with a shared interest in Doctor Who or John Green, lasting bonds that began because two people were both part of a fandom, people who might not otherwise have interacted and become friends in the first place. Over the summer, a few friends and I went to an arts festival just north of me (I wrote about it here). In true style, I wore a Doctor Who shirt, and was amazed at the conversations I had with total strangers as a result, about how much we loved the show and our favorite episodes. I can certainly think of a few things that can connect total strangers, but almost none that can connect them that easily.
Fandoms let us know that it's perfectly fine, and normal, to be nerdy, to be so enthusiastic that we can hardly contain ourselves! The nerdier the better, in fact, because as John Green reminds us, being a nerd just means that we care about something. We can be proud of that fact. Fandoms remind us that, no matter what we may feel at times, we are not alone. There are millions of people like us, who share similar interests and care about some of the same things. Even if we may not meet them personally, like at a convention, we can connect with them in a community online. These are the sorts of things that add zest to life, that remind us of our shared experience and make the business of living more interesting. Those who would look down on this as something juvenile or amateurish simply don't know what they are missing.
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