My current therapeutic fanfiction consists of my writing group visiting Japan and ending up with superpowers. I enjoy it so much that I wrote 3000 words of it on vacation. On vacation. I mean, I loved writing Maid Latte, but this is different. This is people I know, who read what I say about them and repeatedly say, “Yes, that’s me!”

Most of the 3K I wrote on vacation was for one chapter (a chapter nearly twice as long as all the previous ones). When I let the person whose character it was beta read it, he got one paragraph in and said that I nailed his pov. Things I shouldn’t know, like how he thinks and what he notices. And that’s still such a strange feeling, even though I’m nearly 15K words into this fanfic. It’s so strange to hear that I’ve observed someone so well that I can actually write the way he thinks and get it right.

And then I realized that the next chapter is in the pov of the character based on me. I’m not a self-aware enough person to do for Sakura what I did for everyone else. I don’t know how I walk or what kind of face I make when I’m reading. I don’t know what I sound like when I think someone is cute.

I might be slightly too good at fanfiction. And now I have to write myself and I’m panicking because I don’t think that I’m who people think I am, and that scares me. It’s different from writing a blog post. I can be disjointed and weird here. Anyone who still reads me expects that. But a narrative is different.

Who knew fanfiction could give you an existential crisis?


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