Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Professional Core Member M. Bryn Schut30/Female/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
3 Week Core Membership
Statistics 656 Deviations 55,181 Comments 67,856 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Literature
Elitist Bullshit: A Replacement
"Elitist Bullshit"
A Replacement for "Why I Hate Most Fanfics"
Let me tell you a story.
Picture a 21-year-old girl (yes, girl, because adulthood hadn't caught her just yet) who puts everything she has into her writing only to have it overlooked in favor of fanfiction. Picture her, greedy for comments and follows and faves, furious that something as simple as writing fanfiction gets the attention that she so rightly deserves for doing the hard work of writing original content! When fanfiction uses someone else's characters and world! When fanfiction has a built-in audience and doesn't have to work at attracting other readers! Picture her thinking every petty, jealous thought you'd ever had about another writer. Picture that girl, and give her my face.
Picture her making a detailed list of her hate so that people will comment and favorite and agree with her. She titles it "Why I Hate Most Fanfics" and posts it to her deviantArt account. Picture her as she sits back smugly i
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 4 7
Literature
The Mind's Own Place Ch. 1
One
There is an Angel staring at me.
I don't mean "angel" in the way of the cutesy nickname men in bars give to women they want to fuck. Or the favorite child of a doting mother. It's not even some Good Samaritan doing deeds that make others proclaim them a saint. No, this is a capital-letter-A Angel straight from Heaven, the ones whose introductions always begin with "Be not afraid!" because otherwise they're too terrifying to bear. You know, that kind of Angel.
If you happen to be wondering how you can recognize one, it's the eyes that give them away. They don't glow, or change color or suddenly look different in a way that would alert you to the fact you're not talking to a human. It's not even a newness—that wet look of a freshly-peeled hardboiled egg—that the young and innocent have. Angels have old eyes, but it's the way they hold them that makes their strangeness obvious. Their brows are a little too high, raised in permanent surprise at the world around them. Blinki
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 42 29
The Last Fourteen Seconds of Joy by MBryn The Last Fourteen Seconds of Joy :iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Sociopathic Grief
My grandmother died last Monday morning. January 13, 2014. At around five in the morning. I got the call at 6:30am.
It feels strange to type it out. It feels stranger not to be upset about it. After a batch of tears on Monday afternoon, I've returned to normal. I've gone to work, I've attended classes, and my normal routine hasn't even been disrupted. Hell, I haven't even told the majority of people in my life; most of those who know found out because my sister tagged me in a "R.I.P. Grandma" post on Facebook. I haven't brought it up in real life.
But the people who know, I catch them looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, like they're waiting for me to suddenly break down in tears. Friends have been well-meaning, sending texts with messages like, "I'm so sorry" and "My heart is broken for you" and "What do you need?"
And the only thing I can do to respond is to say, "Thanks. I don't need anything." And then they stare at me like they can't believe it.
The truth is, I'm not an
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 4
Literature
Once More 15
Once More
Vasilis
Their return to Reverie had not gone without notice. The Elvish Council had insisted on being present as Vasilis was brought in for his new trial, and more than one voice called for him to be put to death immediately for his lapse in imprisonment. Fortunately, no one had taken matters into their own hands, discouraged both by Gardeon's protection and Aurora's constant presence. They wouldn't kill him in front of her, not without a fair trial; they would want to prove to her their superiority, not their capacity for murder.
The actual proceedings took hours. He had to explain the situation over and over again to increasingly hostile listeners. There were interruptions and long arguments. Even Aurora raised her voice more than once, managing to drown out the Elvish Council with sheer volume and nonstop words. It was chaos.
Finally, Queen Mab lifted her voice above the din, shutting down the fight. "Enough!" she said, fixing each with a glare. "Infighting will solve no p
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 0 2
Literature
Once More 14
Once More
Vasilis
It seemed Vasilis wasn't any better with goodbyes than he had been the last time. He was angry—angry at leaving Tern in a potentially dangerous situation, angry at the court for looking at Tern with fear, angry at Arista for her deceptions, and angriest at himself for snapping at first Aurora and then Tern. There were only a handful of people in the world he cared about, and who cared for him in return, and he had managed to alienate both of them in the space of a few minutes. Not one of his finer moves, to be sure.
“We do not want to leave you in an argument. Or, as last time, with insult,” Tern said.
Vasilis sighed, feeling very tired. "Nor do I," he admitted. He was more than a little relieved to hear that the hostility had nearly left his voice. "I'm tired of fighting."
He risked a look at Aurora. Some of the anger had left her face. "I have made a great number of mistakes today," he told her. "And I promise you, I will not make them again. I am
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 0 6
Literature
Once More 13
Once More
Vasilis
So much had happened so quickly that Vasilis needed a few minutes to recall exactly what had brought them to this moment. It seemed like one minute he and Tern had been talking, and the next all of Hell had broken loose. Only the presence of Gardeon and Aurora had kept him from doing something regrettable.
After Gardeon had led him away from Tern, Vasilis had been guided back to the cluster of Elves. The conversation between Aurora and Arista—if indeed it could be labeled something so civil—appeared to be winding down. While Arista didn't show as much rage as Vasilis had been expecting, there was a certain pinched expression to her face that revealed her displeasure. Aurora, on the other hand, had remained calm and seemed unfazed by the glares of both the king and of Tern's cousin. She had finished speaking, bowed, and returned to the Elves with hardly a backwards glance.
"You were brought to inhibit incidents, not to cause them!" Gardeon hissed at her. "W
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 0 6
Literature
Once More 12
Once More
Vasilis
They'd laid hands on Tern.
It took everything in Vasilis not to cross the floor and come to his friend's defense. There were maybe four or five feet between them—such a small distance!—and he could have crossed it without trouble if there weren't so many eyes on him. But without a weapon and with his hands bound in chains, it was unlikely he'd be in any position to help Tern escape. Besides, he doubted that the Elves were going to be kind enough to let him move towards the prince without seriously injuring one or both of them. Instead Vasilis was forced to stand just outside of Tern's range, angry that there was nothing more he could do.
“Has everyone forgotten about you? Poor thing.” Arista wandered near, but not too near, the group of Elves and Vasilis. Her tone held no malice; anyone listening would have heard a light, half-joking remark, and then, sincere pleasure: “I'm glad my cousin will be able to serve as your avenue home. Anomali
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 4
Literature
Once More 11
Once More
Vasilis
 
Vasilis could only stare as he waited for the thoughts in his brain to finish clicking into place. He recalled—as if it was a lifetime ago—asking Tern if there was anyone he'd cared about enough to do anything for. Tern had said only his mother, but that she had died some time before. Why hadn't Vasilis remembered that Tern's mother was dead? His mind had nagged at him in the tunnels about Tern's mother, but he'd been too slow to remember it!
And that would have helped how, exactly? he thought bitterly. What good would that memory have done in that moment?
Tern was speaking to him. “We thank you for your honesty regarding your history and the events that took place in Reverie. Please know that whatever the outcome, this was neither your fault, nor responsibility to fix.”
"Tern."
"Do not worry about us. We will do what we must here."
"And what exactly will that be?" Vasilis asked, dropping his voice. "I can't go now that I k
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 0 8
Literature
Once More 10
Once More
Vasilis
 
The weight of all eyes in the room on him was enough to make Vasilis squirm, even though he didn't normally fidget. Speaking in front of people was an uncomfortable notion even when he hadn't been accused of planning a violent, revenge-fueled coup, and today's shackles and accusing stares were doing nothing to inspire eloquence. Besides, it was clear Tern hadn't told his father anything about Reverie, and Vasilis didn't want to out his friend's travels if Tern had worked so hard to keep them secret. But Tern had told him to tell the truth if anyone asked, and the king seemed more trustworthy than Arista had been, so maybe this was the only choice?
"Vasilis," Gardeon prompted, "you were asked a question."
Vasilis couldn't look at Aurora. If he looked at her he'd fall apart, and he needed to remain composed. He didn't look at Gardeon either, at the risk of seeing annoyance or disappointment in those eyes. Instead, he made himself look at Tern and tried to silentl
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 9
Once More
Vasilis
 
The walls of the corridor blackened and faded to near nothing as Vasilis was dragged along behind Tern. Leto was still close at hand—silent and sullen as she had ever been—and showed no inclination to wander off on her own. After the pair had arrived and Tern proclaimed that the Elves and humans were already present, there had been little discussion as movement commenced. But Tern's take-charge stance and directive movements had freed up Vasilis's mind to think for a moment, and his thoughts were not encouraging.
He had to accept that there was no reason to hurry, no reason to rush down to the anomaly and return to Earth. If Reverie had sent Elves and humans to fetch him, they believed whatever lies Arista told them. What was the theory, he wondered idly, that had brought them there? Had she told them he was a murderous kidnapper intent on invading Reverie? That he'd found a way to escape his prison and was busy leaping through other worlds? That he
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 8
Once More
Vasilis
 
His sleep was short and fitful, and it was nearly a relief when it was interrupted by the opening of the door. Vasilis sat up immediately, hoping to see Ternnath or the meal Arista had promised to arrange, but no one entered the room. Instead, a hand clutching the weapon he'd been given at the beginning of his travels poked inside the doorframe, deposited the blade, and vanished. He heard the telltale click of the lock a moment later.
Vasilis frowned. What was this? Ternnath would have known better than to have a weapon sent to him, and he doubted the guards would see now as an appropriate time to return his possessions to him. Arista's orders, perhaps? But to what end?
Cautiously, he rose from the bed and walked over to the short sword. As he drew close, he could see there was a piece of paper stuck to it. Vasilis picked up both sword and letter and was not surprised to discover that his stomach was already working on a sinking feeling. Nothing good ever came
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 7
Once More
Vasilis
Being raised amongst Goblins proved to be useful for the first time in his life, for it allowed Vasilis to look on Arista with a face untouched by emotion. Internally, however, he was having a harder time. He knew her words were chosen for great effect, since the Goblin King had often done the same thing during Vasilis's childhood, but they still touched a part of him that he had tried to keep suppressed. She was right; Reverie didn't want him, and those on Earth who knew him were still afraid of him. These were things he had already told himself.
Still, it rankled him to have Arista point out his inner thoughts so easily. If I had a knife, I would— he broke off the thought as quickly as he could. No, those are not the sorts of thoughts that give people cause to trust me. And no matter how much Arista tries to bait me, her truths are not enough reason to end her life.
He could be silent. He could sit there for hours and stare at Arista and reveal n
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 6
Once More
Vasilis
 The anomaly had only been gone a second before the doorway to the hall opened. 
"I thought he would never leave." A blonde, short-haired girl in a green dress, the same one who had been leaning over the ramparts to watch earlier, walked in. "Sorry, it's been tricky to talk to you with him around and it took some time for Leto to get an anomaly in here. His father appointed me to talk to you about what you need. Improve diplomacy skills, you know." She smiled easily and held out a hand. "You are Vasilis, correct? Prince Vasilis, if I understood Tern correctly. I hope we can understand each other a little better."
This was a complication he had not planned for. If he'd known Tern would be so foolish as to rush into the anomaly without him, Vasilis would have stuck to him closer. Now he was alone with a strange girl, and his only sure friend and ally was nowhere to be seen. Manners and diplomacy had never been his strong point—the only diplomacy Goblins
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 5
Once More
Vasilis
 
Vasilis hadn't noticed the appearance of the latest anomaly until he heard Tern speak. "This is ridiculous," the young Prince muttered. "Trapping us and then setting the Listener to work on removing us, honestly."
"It makes sense from a security point of view," Vasilis said, taking a seat on the edge of Tern's bed. "We used to do something similar in the Goblin tunnels. Cruder, certainly, but similar. My father—"
He broke off and made a face. He hadn't slipped and called the Goblin King his father in nearly four months. Old habits, it seemed, were still very hard to break. "The Goblin King," he corrected, "made the Goblins construct tunnels that could be collapsed with little effort. Then there would be a single tunnel left. When the prey followed the tunnel, it would take them somewhere… unpleasant. Sometimes it was the Pit—the place where the Goblins came to feed. Sometimes it was the King's Chambers. In a few cases it was the Kelpie. In ev
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
Literature
Once More 4
Once More
Vasilis
 
Vasilis had always prided himself on his vision in darkness, but six months outside of the Goblin caves had left him out of practice. He was still reasonably sure he could see better than Tern, but it certainly couldn't have been by much. His hearing, however, was just as good as it ever was, and there was little difficulty in picking out the sound of voices from beyond the passage. A man and woman were in the middle of a discussion, their voices deceptively calm. For his part, Vasilis could recognize the tension in their words.
"He seems unhappy," the woman was saying.
"His safety is my primary concern," the man replied. "His happiness must come second to keeping him safe."
"I am not saying you should remove all guards and let Ternnath go wherever he likes," the woman said. "But he may benefit from seeing more of the world than just our home—and from talking to people who are different. He is my son, too, and his happiness is my primary concern."
:iconMBryn:MBryn
:iconmbryn:MBryn 1 0
I officially write too much...;-)

Random Favourites

Flower Focus by shenhai Flower Focus :iconshenhai:shenhai 1 0 Forest Focus by shenhai Forest Focus :iconshenhai:shenhai 2 0 Covered Path by shenhai Covered Path :iconshenhai:shenhai 4 0 Peaches And Cream by Pentacle5 Peaches And Cream :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 14 2 Jeweled Foliage by Pentacle5 Jeweled Foliage :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 28 20 Wild Greenery by Pentacle5 Wild Greenery :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 5 0 Mauve Clover by Pentacle5 Mauve Clover :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 8 2 Tufted Vetch by Pentacle5 Tufted Vetch :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 12 3 Garden Urn by Pentacle5 Garden Urn :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 11 0 Cupid's Swallowtail by Pentacle5 Cupid's Swallowtail :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 15 6 Succulent Water by Pentacle5 Succulent Water :iconpentacle5:Pentacle5 33 20 Bare Trees by shenhai Bare Trees :iconshenhai:shenhai 2 2 Pink Macro by shenhai Pink Macro :iconshenhai:shenhai 1 0 Botanical Garden by shenhai Botanical Garden :iconshenhai:shenhai 3 16 Water Lily by shenhai Water Lily :iconshenhai:shenhai 2 0 Pink Over Green by shenhai Pink Over Green :iconshenhai:shenhai 1 0

Webcam

Visitors

:iconbelladonna170:
Belladonna170
May 22, 2017
2:33 pm
:iconasperger1981:
asperger1981
Mar 30, 2017
9:59 am
:iconpurple66692:
purple66692
Mar 26, 2017
9:49 pm
:iconbirthdays:
birthdays
Mar 6, 2017
4:50 pm
:iconthewarofthering:
TheWarOfTheRing
Feb 28, 2017
1:22 pm

Activity


Hi, all, things have been busy lately, and I'm excited to show you one of the reasons why!

I'm one of a handful of writers who gets to contribute to the first installment of The Apocrypha Files, an anthology of fiction stories. There's more information about the project as a whole below and at the Kickstarter page, but suffice to say that I'm excited and honored to be one of the writers.

If you've enjoyed my writing here, I would really appreciate it if you'd contribute to the Kickstarter, or share it across your social media accounts.

We've set a pretty modest goal for ourselves, we have some awesome rewards set up, and we're offering both ebook and hardcover editions of the anthology. All we need is your help!

Check out the info below, and help us reach our goal!

-Bryn

www.kickstarter.com/projects/c…



The year is 2165.  

Our world has been devastated by nuclear war, profound climate change, rampant disease, accidentally manufactured plague, and authoritarian regimes. 

Every Supreme Country has their version of what happened; each claiming victory and dominion over the ashes.  

Before the Blast, delusion guided civilization. They pursued art, engineering, and war without thought of consequence. They believed themselves gods with the power to usher in utopia everlasting.  

Today our lives are dictated by tyrants and the death throes of a crumbling world.  

Enclaves of civilization wrap themselves in dense labyrinths of rules desperate to reclaim utopia from the wasteland. Deviation is not tolerated. Justice is indiscriminate and brutal.  

These are stories the leaders don’t want you to know.  

These are stories that challenge the rules.  

These are stories about the people.  

These are stories of life.  

These are the Apocrypha.

From the Ashes, Rise is the first installment in the annual fiction anthology The Apocrypha Files. The mission of the anthology is to explore genre fiction from a subaltern perspective, prod the edges of fantasy, and give voice to the stories that go untold.  

From the Ashes, Rise kicks off the anthology by exploring the popular genre of post-apocalypse fiction. Our goal is to challenge our authors to break free of their perceptions of the genre and venture boldly into terra incognita.  

Strap on your gas mask and pick up your pack and dive into realms of the apocalypse you’ve never been before.

www.kickstarter.com/projects/c…


I'm a working writer!

Journal Entry: Wed Aug 3, 2016, 8:20 PM
Hi, folks, long time no chat.

Let's do a quick rundown of what's happened since my last journal, shall we?

Short answer: SO MUCH.

Longer answer:

1) My novel Visioner is still being considered by a publisher, but I haven't heard anything since April. I'm going to be emailing them soon to see what's going on. I need to figure out if I'm going to be writing more query letters and trying to send it elsewhere, or if they're picking it up.

2) I have been unemployed since February. I put in lots of applications which didn't even get me interviews. I finally got desperate enough to apply to substitute teach, and now I have an Emergency Credential and am waiting for my application to be processed so I can start work. There has been a lot of stress leading up to this point.

3) Tom and I moved to Sacramento County. The house is great and we love it, but the surrounding town is possibly the most boring place on the planet. Lots of beige and lots of Republicans. But I do have my own office, which is fantastic. I love having my own workspace again.

4) I sent out a short story to a literary mag and got a nice rejection. I'll be doing another submission before the end of the month.

5) I have a rough writing schedule! I have actually made time to go into my office and work, and it's been resulting in a lot of good writing. I'm trying to knuckle down even more, though. Room for improvement!

But here's the biggest news of the batch: I AM WORKING AS A WRITER!

Since I've been unemployed, money has been tight. Tom ensures I don't starve or end up homeless, but the monthly bills like car payments and such have been awful. I started looking for ways to make money quick, and I ended up creating a profile on a freelance site and applying for writing jobs. A few never responded, but one of the jobs I applied for was writing product descriptions for a novelty mug shop. I got an overwhelmingly positive response from the owner, and he asked if I would be interested in doing a lot of work for him. I said I very much would be.

So now I'm working as a copywriter for www.mugdom.com.

I've written descriptions for four mugs so far (the Self Stirring Mug, the Doctor Who Mug, the Wide Awake Mug, and the Prescription Mug) and there's supposed to be more work coming my way soon. Since I don't have previous copywriting experience, I'm still fine-tuning my work, but I'm enjoying the challenge and the creativity that comes with the job.

Thanks to the copywriting job, I'm actually a working writer and using my M.A. in English!

So my presence here is going to be sporadic as usual, but please know that it's for good reasons this time.

Go check out Mugdom! There are lots of cool mugs and t shirts, and if you buy something you'll be supporting the business that's employing me (which is something I pretty selfishly support).

That's it for now! I'll keep you guys posted!
-Bryn 


"Elitist Bullshit"

A Replacement for "Why I Hate Most Fanfics"

Let me tell you a story.

Picture a 21-year-old girl (yes, girl, because adulthood hadn't caught her just yet) who puts everything she has into her writing only to have it overlooked in favor of fanfiction. Picture her, greedy for comments and follows and faves, furious that something as simple as writing fanfiction gets the attention that she so rightly deserves for doing the hard work of writing original content! When fanfiction uses someone else's characters and world! When fanfiction has a built-in audience and doesn't have to work at attracting other readers! Picture her thinking every petty, jealous thought you'd ever had about another writer. Picture that girl, and give her my face.

Picture her making a detailed list of her hate so that people will comment and favorite and agree with her. She titles it "Why I Hate Most Fanfics" and posts it to her deviantArt account. Picture her as she sits back smugly in her chair, pleased with her moral victory. She has shown them, she thinks, the foolishness inherent in fanfiction. And she's drawn the poison out of herself and sent it out into the world, where perhaps it will infect others with her thinking. And the deviation she wrote remains in her gallery, forgotten but for those rare times someone happens upon it and adds a new favorite or comment.

Now, years pass. The girl writes other things, deletes some things, adds things. She writes journal entries about her frustrations with growing up, obtaining a little perspective as she does. She gets her depression and anxiety under control through therapy and medication. She leaves her shitty fast food job for a better, more fulfilling tutoring job. Eventually, she gathers together enough credits at community college to transfer to a state university where she can pursue her degree in Creative Writing. Once there, she gets a job in the university's writing center and sees how difficult it is for non-writers to put their words on paper, and she takes classes that emphasize revision and workshopping and growth. She writes the same chapters over and over again in an effort to attain perfection.

Some days she hates writing and wishes she'd never started.

Her deviantArt account, once so important to her, languishes far in the background of her mind. She has papers to write and textbooks to read and new friends to hang out with. So mired is she in the world of academia that she forgets that she once wrote for fun, that once she had people who read her pieces not to tear it apart, but to learn what happens next. That once she didn't spend three days staring at a blank page because all the words in your head are wrong so why even bother putting them down?

So she works at her writing, and decides to go for a Master's degree. And so she spends three years deeper in academia and the technical act of writing, turning her love for the written word into a hyper-focus on the act of revision. She's asked to teach a class on Fantasy Writing, and she does, filling her instruction time with games and fun exercises and works at fostering the love of writing in others that she feels she's lost herself. And after three hard years she produces a thesis, the now-complete novel she'd been revising and revising and revising since she was thirteen and first decided to become a writer.

It should have felt like victory—and on one hand it does—but it also feels like defeat. Because some of the magic of writing, that feeling of letting the words fill her and spill out onto the page because she can't possibly contain them all, has left her. Her schooling has shown her the value of hard work, but has neglected to remind her of the fun of writing. The times where she laughs as she's writing are fewer, replaced with frustrated screams.

She's twenty-nine years old and feeling brittle inside. In an effort to recapture the joy she once felt, she logs on to her deviantArt account. She sees many of her old friends have moved on. And she sees that her most popular piece, "Why I Hate Most Fanfics", is still getting attention after all this time. New favorites, new comments. Attention she'd missed.

She was proud of the piece once. But as she rereads it for the first time in years, she cringes. She sees elitism and jealousy. She sees a person who created a sharp distinction between fanfiction and "real writing." She sees someone convinced that there's nothing of value in stories that take place in worlds the writer has not created. She feels ashamed.

Now let me tell you why.

When I first wrote that piece eight years ago, I knew I wanted to be a writer. I was pouring out page after page of written work, sharing every piece I wrote with the deviantArt community. People commented. People faved. I had a significant amount of page views and followers. I slaved over everything, and like most people addicted to the social media scene, every comment/follow/favorite seemed to be a validation of me and my talent.

"Look at you," that proud little corner of my mind whispered. "You're good at this."

This being deviantArt, though, original fiction wasn't the only option on the menu. There is a lot—seriously, do a search, I'll wait—of fanfiction out there. And a lot of that fanfiction gets more views and faves and comments than even the most popular original fiction out there. And when you browse fanfiction.net or AO3, you see that some people even write fanfiction that's longer than the longest books ever printed in English. And that people are reading and commenting and saving that writing while your original fiction gets only a small but vocal bit of attention.

It inspires a lot of jealousy, is what I'm trying to say. And sometime that jealousy makes you act like an elitist asshole.

Writing used to be something I did for fun and because it brought readers joy. Each time I received a comment or a favorite on one of my pieces, I was thrilled. Early in my time with deviantArt, I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who were supportive of the stories I made and eager to read everything I wrote. No one told me to quit writing, or said there was no value in the things I wrote. No one belittled my choice to write worlds full of talking Unicorns and bespelled Princes and teenagers prone to visions of the future. And while I never actively sought out fanfiction for the purpose of mocking the choices the writer made, the fact is that I wrote a piece of nonfiction condemning an entire genre of writing. And I've let that piece of writing sit there without revision or rebuttal for eight years.

Now let me tell you what I've learned in the years since I first wrote that piece. When I look at fanfiction now, I see it differently.

    ·         I see a group of writers who haven't forgotten the importance of playfulness.

    ·         I see people who remember that writing should entertain the reader.

    ·         I see people who have struggled to find representation in mainstream media and eagerly latch on to characters they find, granting those characters the adventures they feel they've lacked.

    ·         I see people who realize that coloring in the lines is boring and there's no reason you can't mash up Harry Potter and the Redwall series if it makes you happy.

    ·         I see people with kinks they want to safely explore and introduce to others.

    ·         I see people who want to see evil characters get redeemed, good characters learn humility, and background characters get their day in the limelight.

    ·         I see people who still wonder about what happened to Susan when her family died and left her behind, and reflect on how Teddy will never suffer like Harry suffered, and pray that maybe Lyra and Will ultimately find a way to be together despite it all—and they make sure those things happen.

    ·         I see people challenging the status quo and asking the questions mainstream media is afraid to ask.

    ·         I see people trying to create something not because it will bring them money or fame, but because someone asked, "Um, hey, what if…?"

    ·         I see people like me, who love writing and love sharing their words with people and get that chemical rush of having someone read your work and say "Yes, I see you, I acknowledge you, and I love this thing you've created."

My views in "Why I Hate Most Fanfics" are elitist bullshit born out of jealousy and a belief that somehow my original fiction has more imaginary value than fanfiction. The ideas within that piece are no longer indicative of my feelings on writing or fanfiction, and I wish to apologize to anyone I may have—intentionally or not—hurt by those words.

The presence of that piece in my gallery makes me angry now, which is why I'll be deleting it. Whatever purpose those words served for my 21-year-old self, it no longer serves that purpose for my 29-year-old self. As a writer, I should be supporting the act of writing and not allowing petty nonsense to stick around when it's not needed.

To all the writers out there, original and fanfiction, beginners and experts, please excuse me for my dumbass remarks in the past; I'm going to do better now.

Happy writing, my friends.

-Bryn

 

 

Elitist Bullshit: A Replacement
A long time ago, a younger and more hard-lining me wrote a thing against fanfiction. I reread it recently and realized I no longer agree with my own points, and in fact my own writing made me angry.

As a result, I wrote this rebuttal piece, and will be taking down the original work.

Thank you for reading.
Loading...

Hi, all, things have been busy lately, and I'm excited to show you one of the reasons why!

I'm one of a handful of writers who gets to contribute to the first installment of The Apocrypha Files, an anthology of fiction stories. There's more information about the project as a whole below and at the Kickstarter page, but suffice to say that I'm excited and honored to be one of the writers.

If you've enjoyed my writing here, I would really appreciate it if you'd contribute to the Kickstarter, or share it across your social media accounts.

We've set a pretty modest goal for ourselves, we have some awesome rewards set up, and we're offering both ebook and hardcover editions of the anthology. All we need is your help!

Check out the info below, and help us reach our goal!

-Bryn

www.kickstarter.com/projects/c…



The year is 2165.  

Our world has been devastated by nuclear war, profound climate change, rampant disease, accidentally manufactured plague, and authoritarian regimes. 

Every Supreme Country has their version of what happened; each claiming victory and dominion over the ashes.  

Before the Blast, delusion guided civilization. They pursued art, engineering, and war without thought of consequence. They believed themselves gods with the power to usher in utopia everlasting.  

Today our lives are dictated by tyrants and the death throes of a crumbling world.  

Enclaves of civilization wrap themselves in dense labyrinths of rules desperate to reclaim utopia from the wasteland. Deviation is not tolerated. Justice is indiscriminate and brutal.  

These are stories the leaders don’t want you to know.  

These are stories that challenge the rules.  

These are stories about the people.  

These are stories of life.  

These are the Apocrypha.

From the Ashes, Rise is the first installment in the annual fiction anthology The Apocrypha Files. The mission of the anthology is to explore genre fiction from a subaltern perspective, prod the edges of fantasy, and give voice to the stories that go untold.  

From the Ashes, Rise kicks off the anthology by exploring the popular genre of post-apocalypse fiction. Our goal is to challenge our authors to break free of their perceptions of the genre and venture boldly into terra incognita.  

Strap on your gas mask and pick up your pack and dive into realms of the apocalypse you’ve never been before.

www.kickstarter.com/projects/c…


deviantID

MBryn
M. Bryn Schut
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
I just finished my MA in English: Creative Writing. Currently, I am beginning the process of seeking a literary agent for my work and will be taking my first steps towards publication.
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconbirthdays:
birthdays Featured By Owner Mar 6, 2017
:woohoo: :party: :iconcakelickplz: !!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! :iconcakelickplz: :party: :woohoo:

On behalf of the birthdays team, I sincerely apologize that your greeting has arrived late this year.

We hope you had an awesome day with lots of birthday fun, gifts, happiness and most definitely, lots of cake! Here's to another year!

Many well wishes and love from your friendly birthdays team :love:

---
Birthdays Team
This birthday greeting was brought to you by: KoudelkaW
Reply
:iconthewarofthering:
TheWarOfTheRing Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2017
Happy birthday!

Also, question - were you born in a leap year? If so, do you ever wonder what it would've been like to be born the day after today?
Reply
:iconmbryn:
MBryn Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2017  Professional Writer
Thank you!

My year wasn't a leap year, fortunately, and my mom had a c-section, so I got to be scheduled more than other babies, lol.
Reply
:iconthewarofthering:
TheWarOfTheRing Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2017
Ah, right. My bad :P
Reply
:iconjasperinity:
Jasperinity Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2017
Happy birthday! :D
Reply
Add a Comment: