On Obsession

I did a lot of internet research during the last couple of days, and some fan websites I found there simply creep me out.

I can sympathize with a certain amount of obsession, since I have been pretty obsessive myself, many times. I can get lost in parallel universes of books, film, music and TV - everything from classic literature and arthouse films to Sci-Fi series and Bollywood kitsch.
I dearly love some fictional characters and admire their creators - the writers, directors and actors who make the fantasy so beautiful and 'real'. I have phases when I buy DVD after DVD, book after book, and scour the internet for downloads and news.

But there's a firm line between reality and fiction. As a writer myself, having worked for TV, I know how films are made, been part of the process, met wonderful people there, and I also know that, like in any job, a brilliant actor, musician, director or writer isn't necessarily a brilliant person, or even a nice one (no - don't worry: most of them are).

Anyway. Lately, I searched the sites of several actors' fans, since I needed some information (and not all actors, or rather their agents, are forthcoming to insignificant foreign journalists), and those fansites often have amazingly complete archives of articles, interviews and trivia.

But they also contain loads of stuff that I find very odd. There are forums, blogs and guest-books full of speculations about His or Her private life; photos of (expensive) gifts the fans sent to their idols; fan-art and fan-fiction, ranging from the pseudo-religious to adolescent adoration and NC-17 stories. Uhm. Everyone is welcome to their own fantasies, but why make them public?

In know I am selfish: Though I have unashamedly used those sites for my research, I still criticize them.
But what may be devotion to those people looks like delusion to me. Why do they dedicate so much of their time and love to someone they don't know; why adore someone from afar whom they never even met (or just met briefly to have a photograph taken or a picture signed at some convention)?
I see little difference between this, and stalking. Both are versions of unrequited love, leading to loss of reality. I wonder what is missing in those people's lives that they give their live and energy to an unknown person.

Maybe it's the underlying desperation and loneliness that scares me most.

Out There (or: Fascinated Yet Frustrated)

These weeks are strange. I wait for my new home to be finished (so I can move), I try to sell my old one, and I am again/still looking for work. So this is a time when I am at home a lot, but I have very little to do except for sorting, packing, brooding, and avoiding unpleasant thoughts by the means of pure escapism.

I watched a lot of DVDs lately, and re-read several sci-fi and fantasy books. And I surfed the net, looking for writers, directors and actors whose work impresses me. There are so many to be found in the www; some with professionally built homepages, some with regularly updated blogs and truly terrific journals. To name only a few: I found (and read most of) Neil Gaiman's Journal, Sir Ian McKellen's official homepage and blog, or the blogs of David Nykl and Kate Hewlett, actors, and Joe Mallozzi, screenwriter and producer from the Stargate universe, one of my favourite resorts faraway from bleak reality.

At first, I was thrilled to have found all their websites. I am impressed by those gentlemen and ladies, their books, scripts, acting; whatever they do, and do so wonderfully.
I loved to learn more about their lives, travels, thoughts and projects. And of course I still do. But in some strange way, those websites and blogs are a curse as well as a blessing.

See, I write and work in the big world of TV myself, and I certainly am no 'fan' of anyone (honestly, I don't even understand the things fans do - like collecting autographs and photos, or travelling to conventions and dressing up as fictional characters).
Thus, I have no intention to obtrude or ingratiate myself with anyone. But the more I read, the more I am impressed by (and feel drawn to) some of those people - writers, actors, or directors from different parts of this world.
Their blogs give me the illusion of getting to know them. They make me want to communicate, as I do with real-life acquaintances or friends.

And there's the catch.

There is no way to connect; no way to get to know any of them. Yes, I left some friendly comments, which (understandably!) remain unnoticed amidst all that cheerful bulk, between dozens of unanswered questions and tons of fanmail.

So, after fascination came frustration. Those guys have genuinely impressed me and make me want to get in touch with them, but it is simply not possible to initiate any kind of dialogue or correspondence. Despite all the so-called interactivity of the world wide web, there just is no way to really get a message across. Too bad.