Slashiversary - Broken Images
Somehow I've gotten old. Me, my Mutuals, my First Fandom — all of us — are OLD. How old? Old enough that when one of us dies, nobody says "oh <sniff> too young to go" . . . and, I mean, even our friends have come to expect our demise.
But... but once upon a time, there was Space - a frontier of the imagination. And there were women brave enough to say 'I love the Love I see in these two Icons of normative culture. Their eyes, their smiles, their words and shared adventures, their touch means much more than what they show'. So much more than our puritanical society would allow be discussed in polite company.
Today some of these women would be called BNFs. At Conventions they were FGOH (fan guest of honor) if they spoke or sat on a panel. But mostly, you would find them in the Dealer's Room selling their latest zine that they had hocked their house to have printed, in hopes of recouping the money they'd borrowed while offering their souls to the public.
These written works of imagination, these fanzines, these fan novels were meticulously put together. The novels were conceived, outlined, written and underwent a first edit. [Yes. A real edit. That harsh, tearful, nail-biting, sometimes friendship-ending, hair-whitening process summed up in the four letter word - EDIT.] All before Art was commissioned or requested or begged from the BNF Artists of the day, specifically for the story. Deadlines were given, hair was pulled, teeth were gnashed, pages were typed, retyped, edited, typed again, laid out, retyped because the page numbers were suddenly off, finally edited one last time - THEN Beta'd all while keeping up with a mundane job and the laundry, the hubby, the kids, dogs, and the PTA. Printers were contacted through the process, layouts were chosen, bindings, colors, fonts, and pricing agreed upon. Then... THEN the farm was mortgaged to pay for whole thing.
These writers and artists would rather die than publish a work that was anything but their absolute best.
And... it shows.
I've blogged before about this being the 40th Anniversary of Mary Ann Drach's — writing under her pen-name 'Beverly Sutherland' — Broken Images* but there is more to be said.
[*Broken Images is listed under archivist Caitlyn Collins name on AO3 K/S Archive].
Mary Ann was an Award Winning writer of fanfiction. She was amazing. (A superlative used far too frequently, I know, but in this instance it is totally true.) She was kind, and generous, funny, and so very, very talented. I had the opportunity to meet her at Space Trek in 1983 - the year her master work was published. She was all those things I described, and more. She was a real woman living a real life, working a job that she sometimes liked and sometimes not. She had friends and family and fans. She sang and went to Cons, and talked story, and was an ordinary gal to the Mundanes that passed her on the street. She was us. She passed away in 2014.
Before she left us to sing in the Choir Invisible, she had her works housed on the beloved K/S Archive. The KSA holds many, many classic print-zine works written by the Women of Slash Fandom.
The Mothers of Slash, if you will. [Yeah, don't twist those knickers - there were a few men, too.] But by far, the Standard Bearers were Women: friends, lovers, girlfriends, wives, Aunties, Mommas, and Nanas.
In January, the KSA was moved, through Open Doors project to a permanent home on AO3. Check out the Archive. Read the classic works that built a fandom into a Fandom that snowballed into the multi billion dollar business we call FANDOM.
The Classics are always worth the time. Even if they seem... ya know, a little dated. They are our history. Read them now - while it's still possible to talk to the Fen who laid the foundation for the generations that followed. Some of them are still around... writing... talking story and smut and stuff.
They're here - for a while longer.
