When I was fifteen, I discovered the world of fanfiction.
I was a passionate young writer at the time, and until that point, had been writing my own YA novel.
Concurrently, I went through seasons of obsession with different film franchises and television shows; they were often my escape from the throes of adolescence and bullying, and were my happy place.
Side note: Watch the horoscopes and self-care. Post continues below.
Fanfiction was the marriage between two things I loved, and it became my secret world.
I began writing my first fiction out of pure love for a show, and didn’t realise that the level of recognition it was achieving within that online community was substantial.
To date, that story has 372,418 reads – and it continues to chug along each day, even after a decade.
I remember printing out the first five chapters of that story and popping it in a display folder – beseeching my best friend, Melanie, to read it. I was incredibly self-conscious, but I wanted tangible feedback from someone I knew.
“This is really good, G. You shouldn’t have to hide it,” she had encouraged.
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