Fandoms that made me: the first three

This is gonna be embarrassing but illuminating.

You know those children you sometimes meet who have remarkably refined tastes at age seven? Who are watching indie films with their parents and remarking how much they admire the cinematography? You know how you find yourself wishing you had been that smart and cool as a kid, because you totally weren’t? Yeah. I totally was not either.

I’d like to compose a brief series of posts about the fandoms that have captured me through my ages, and the lasting effects they have had on my tastes and writing style. As I’m starting at the beginning—my earliest recalled fandoms—I have to warn you that these in particular are extremely dorky and you may experience secondhand embarrassment.

I also want to distinguish between “things I liked” and “fandom.” I’m going with the general definition that fandom is a deeper experience, more all-consuming, in which one buys merch and maybe cosplays the characters and acts out scenes, and (perhaps if one is on the path toward becoming a writer) even makes up new scenarios involving the fictional universe in question. Ergo, though I liked many books, shows, and films as a kid, I chose these three pieces of media as the ones that seized my imagination to the degree of making me a fan engaged in fandom.

Today’s installment will cover the first three fandoms in my lifetime so far.

First: Xanadu, the 1980 film starring Olivia Newton-John as a Greek muse inspiring a dude to build a roller rink in SoCal. It is famous, now, for bombing at the box office and for generally being a hot mess. All true! But. I was seven when I first saw it, and I did not have the discerning artistic tastes described in the first paragraph. All I knew was that the neon-ish special effects and ruffly skirts were so pretty, and the music was delightful (that part is still true! ON-J and ELO, people!), and I wanted to be Kira the muse.

The nine muses, Xanadu style. Dig that neon Greek architecture!

What I took away forever from Xanadu and which you can still find in my writing: A love for romance between ordinary humans and supernatural folk. Magic that glows and sparkles in pretty colors. Mashups of mythology and regular modern life.

Second: Jem and the Holograms, Saturday morning cartoon of the 1980s. Campy and oh so neon-colored, and full of soap-opera-level secret identities and unnecessary drama, but gosh did I eat up that combo. My younger sister and I went full fandom and bought all the dolls for all the characters (do you know how cool it is to have Barbie-like dolls but with blue or green or pink hair?) and posed them in dramatic situations and took Polaroids. I cannot claim their music was anywhere near as enduring as ELO’s, but I do still get a scrap of their tunes in my head from time to time.

OMG, I had this Jem poster on my wall!

What I took away from Jem and the Holograms and which you can still find in my writing: Juicy secrets and occasional melodrama. Characters with complex romantic, and platonic, relationships. Again, sparkly magic. Characters who dye their hair and wear makeup, and/or who perform as their job.

Third: the Monkees, music group from the 1960s, watched in reruns of their TV show on Nickelodeon when I was a kid in the ’80s. Listen, I did have a huge Beatles phase a bit later on in life, but I have to admit, the Monkees were a more formative influence on me. They were so cute! And silly! And sweet! And their songs actually kind of rocked and were sometimes a lot more subversive and progressive than you’d expect from a made-for-TV boy band. (Not that I knew words like “subversive” and “progressive” at the time, but I was able to appreciate that they were considered rebellious and hippie-leaning—they kept getting called “long-haired weirdos” in the show by stuffy establishment folk.) My sister and friends and I played air guitar on the porch to their music, and I still know practically every song of theirs by heart. RIP, Davy and Peter and Nez. (*sniffle*)

The Monkees singing “Daydream Believer” on their TV show. I don’t even have to check that it’s “Daydream Believer.” I know this stuff at a glance with them.

What I took away from the Monkees and which you can still find in my writing: Not being afraid to include dumb jokes, absurd situations, and goofing around. Characters who are sweet and honest and cheekily rebellious. The importance of loyal friends who you can be weird with, and who help you laugh at yourself. The performing arts being both a glamorous and a difficult career path.

So—while I now much more easily see the flaws and the nonsense in the above three pieces of media, I cannot honestly say I shook off all influence from them. They got me at a formative time, friends. Or perhaps I was drawn to them because they all expressed something I loved: which, yes, may have been earnest dorkiness, cheesy romance, sparkly magic, and colorful whimsy that frequently spills over into offbeat weirdness. But that’s okay! That is my style, and if it’s your style too, then you’re my people. (And you might like my books.)