Fan fiction is what literature might look like if it were reinvented from scratch after a nuclear apocalypse by a band of brilliant pop-culture junkies trapped in a sealed bunker. They don’t do it for money. That’s not what it’s about. The writers write it and put it up online just for the satisfaction. They’re fans, but they’re not silent, couchbound consumers of media. The culture talks to them, and they talk back to the culture in its own language.

The Boy Who Lived Forever | Time Magazine (via dapper-hobbit)

I went to a writer’s workshop today

-Only in the south would you have a writer’s workshop at a catfish restaurant.

-No, I did not eat any catfish.

-I did eat a fried pecan pie. Again, it’s the south.

-I was the youngest one there.

-There are several different versions of self-publishing, and some actually might be a viable option for me if traditional publishing doesn’t work out.

-One of the speakers kept loudly commenting about my baby. Because she thought I was pregnant. Really?! Twenty points from Caitlin’s Self Esteem.

-The speaker who talked about character development was pretty awesome.

-I am way mahead of the curve compared to all the older people when it comes to blogging.

-I might have accidentally sent a lot of nice middle aged ladies to Tumblr. God bless their souls. I should have warned them about what it was like.

-Someone called me Kristen.

-I was invited to join the writer’s group. Yay!

-I went to Target afterwards, to buy a notebook and a lunchbox and shaving cream for my bear my husband, and I had just gotten into my car, the Book of Mormon soundtrack blaring, when I look across the parking lot to see OMG MORMONS.

No, seriously, it was a like a clown car of nice Mormon boys. And this boy in a purple tee shirt was talking to them and he hugged one of them round the neck and the show finale was blaring and I was like “THIS IS AWESOME.”

-Now I am cleaning my house without wearing any pants.