Since when did we start charging money on patreon for fanfics 😭😭😭😭 is this for real😭
hi, love. I haven't seen that many people doing the Patreon thing when it comes to fanfic, but it's pretty common for people who draw for example to set up a Patreon. I believe that everyone who does, just like myself, needs the money. I wouldn't be doing it if i didn't need to. I figured the Patreon setup was the best idea since it's not really that common for people to tip writers, we've been struggling with getting reblogs and comments, so you can imagine.
Right now, I'm applying and doing tests to get an internship, which still won't be enough because I'm also trying to apply for a master's. So, yeah, I'm really thankful for everyone who tipped me on ko-fi and subscribed to my Patreon, last month my savings were over, and the Patreon money was what helped me pay for some medical stuff I needed (Idk if you saw the whole mick schumacher's sick club, but yeah — huge thank you for everyone who subscribed/donated btw).
We often see fic writers as little robots who don't eat, drink, or sleep. We request stuff, and expect an instant reply, and when we get the content we don't even go back to the page to tell the writer our thoughts. We don't reblog, nor leave comments, but still, we expect them to keep writing and keep sharing everything as if it didn't take hours, sometimes days to come up with a 1k piece polished to what we think readers will like best. I hope I don't sound rude, I'm just trying to make a point because I'm tired of seeing writers deactivating, tired of seeing my friends getting writer's block and then people still demanding things.
On top of that, I'm still posting a lot here, from smau to blubs and long fic requests (and I won't even talk about how some pieces aren't even getting a hundred notes, which always makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong, if my writing is bad, or if there's anything that I could do to make the reader's experience more enjoyable), and it takes a lot of time, it's even harder to balance the two profiles now, but still, I keep sharing some of my work for free. so please, please, don't make me feel bad about needing money. thanks ❤️.
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“You have, like, books here, right?”
Myrtle, the librarian, looks up from her desk, at the library, where she has been finalizing a new order of library books.
“Yes,” she says. “We do.”
Read on AO3 here
“Oh!” says the man with a relieved smile. “Great.”
Myrtle eyes him over the stacks of books and notepads on her desk. She has been a librarian for nearly four decades, and she’s seen all sorts, though she can’t recall anyone ever asking this particular question. The man in front of the desk is… hm. Muscular is the best word she can think of, though she would have more choice adjectives if she was a few decades younger and/or inclined in that direction. Chiseled, perhaps. Blonde, predictably, with the sort of haircut that had been popular on Ken dolls, back in the day (do they still have Ken dolls? Barbie has certainly traveled; she’d heard something about a breakup?). His smile is pleasant enough, though somewhat vacant, and judging by his question, this might be the first library he’s entered in his life.
But, librarians didn’t judge - not books by their cover, and not patrons by their questions - so she shifts away from her computer and says, “Can I help you find anything in particular?”
“Oh!” says the man, brightening at the offer of help. “The thing is, this guy Mike? He’s, like, really smart? And I’m not? So I thought, maybe, if I read some books and stuff, he might like me more?”
He looks so hopeful that Myrtle doesn’t have the heart to tell him that changing oneself is rarely worthwhile, and that his best hope with this “Mike” likely involves who he is now. The man misinterprets her silence and blunders forth with, “Not like like, obviously. Just as, um. Is there a word for, like, people who hang out all the time, and talk a lot, and think the other person is really smart and cool and funny and just make each other, um, I guess. Happy?”
Myrtle raises an eyebrow. “...Friends?” she says.
“Yeah!” says the man with the biggest smile yet. “Yeah. Friends.”
Myrtle has always considered her duties as a librarian to extend past the books and towards the well-being of her patrons, but she feels this man may need more help than she is able to provide. “What kind of books does this Michael enjoy?” she asks. “Any subjects he’s interested in?”
“Aliens,” says the man instantly.
“Aliens?” says Myrtle.
The man nods enthusiastically. “He knows everything about them,” he says. “Like, all the stuff the government’s been covering up - he got access, or I guess I gave him access, and he says it’s just what he thought the whole time and people are super not paying attention. And then he said a bunch of science things that sounded really smart. So maybe if you have some books that could, um, explain that?”
“You’re looking for,” says Myrtle slowly, “scientific books about aliens?”
“Yeah!” says the man.
Myrtle takes off her glasses, polishes them on her sweater, and puts them back on. “I’ll… see what I can do,” she says.
“Oh! One more thing,” says the man. “Sorry, I know you’re a librarian and everything, but reading, like, kinda sucks? So if there’s any books you have that you, like, don’t have to read to get smart - could you find those?”
Ah, she thinks. Thoughts of UFOs fly out of her head as she recalibrates her illicit judgments. There are reasons she is a librarian, and this man is one of them. She is suddenly and overwhelmingly grateful that this man has chosen this library, on this day, to walk in and present her with an opportunity to unlock literature, outside the written word.
“Have you ever tried,” she says, “audiobooks?”
An hour and a half later, she has loaded the man down with several audiobooks; a stack of graphic novels; links to browser extensions for changing font size/spacing and rendering text to speech; and, of course, a brand-new library card.
“Now, these are all just starting places,” she says, methodically scanning out each graphic novel in turn. “If any of them don’t work for you, you don’t need to push it. But if it does work, then you feel free to come back and ask me for more, alright?”
The man, who, to his credit, did not flee when she went Full Librarian, swallows. “I - I guess,” he says. “But, I mean. Are you sure? Like, this isn’t really reading, right? Picture books are for babies.”
“These aren’t picture books,” she says snippily. “They’re graphic novels. It’s a perfectly legitimate form of literature, and if anyone gives you a hard time, you send them straight to me.”
He pulls the closest book towards him and flips through the pages, lingering over some of the more vivid illustrations. She’s had this conversation so many times she could have it in her sleep, but it still breaks her heart a little, to think a little thing like formatting has stood in his way for so long.
“We’ve only had writing for about five thousand years,” she tells him, “but we’ve always had stories. True purists should still be sitting around a fire carrying on the oral tradition. There are plenty of ways to read that don’t involve words on a page.”
“Huh,” says the man, staring at a full-page spread of a detailed spaceship. “That’s - that’s kinda cool.”
“It certainly is,” says Myrtle. She finishes checking him out and slides the rest of the books and resources across the desk. “Good luck with your Michael,” she says, looking him straight in the eye. “And everything else.”
“Thanks!” he says with a bright smile. “You know, I always thought libraries sucked? But you don’t suck at all.”
Myrtle refrains from a sigh. “Thank you,” she says instead, and waves him out.
—
She thinks of him a few times over the next couple weeks. She doesn’t seriously expect to see him again; there are return bins outside, and her shifts are fairly irregular. But roughly three weeks later, she looks up and there he is, with a slight, nervous-looking man in tow.
“Hey, it’s you again!” says the man with an oversized wave. “Mike, this is the nice librarian lady who gave me all those, um, graphic novels. Hey, librarian lady, those links you gave me were so cool! I never knew there were all those things that would read emails and stuff to you, so you don’t have to read them at all!”
Myrtle does try to remain somewhat detached, but she can’t help but feel warmed by this outcome. Even better, Mike responds to this speech with a fond smile, first in the man’s direction and then in hers. “Thank you,” he says. “That was, um. Overdue, I think.”
“Oh, no, I turned all the books in on the day they said!” says the man quickly. “No library fines here!”
Mike laughs and pats the man’s arm. “Come on,” he says. “Didn’t you want to look for the Predator sequels?”
“Yes,” says the man, and tows Mike inside. Myrtle watches them go, still feeling like a job well done. Maybe she needs a new slogan, she thinks. Libraries: We don’t suck at all! She snorts and shakes her head. She’ll work on it. She has plenty more patrons to practice on.
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