Fanfiction has been deemed inferior, insignificant by so many writers and authors. “It’s not real writing,” they say. “It’s indulgent.”
Fanfiction is the art of creating stories by keeping our favourite characters at the center.
I’ve been a fanfic writer since 2019 and have written several fanfics based on Shadowhunters and Red White and Royal Blue. I’ll be honest, in these years, I’ve read thousands of fanfictions, some just improve a little thing in the story, keeping most of it as it is. But some writers don’t just create their own story and worlds, but they even outshine the original story.
(I might just be one of them.)
Fanfiction has changed my world forever, and I’ve heard so many people dismissing fanfiction as a form of writing. But the truth is, every story begins with imitation. Every writer starts by tracing the outlines of what they love. And in that sense, fanfiction is not a degradation of art—it’s its most natural beginning.
Writing fanfiction gives many people (not just teens) a platform to share their words and indulge in their hobbies. Because, to be frank, not everyone dreams of being a published author. It has been there through several platforms like Wattpad, AO3, Fanfiction.net, and so many more, and has given many teens (and adults) a means to forever love and cherish their beloved characters.
The Myth of the “Unoriginal” Writer
There’s an old myth that creativity must emerge from thin air, that “real writers” build worlds from nothing. But art has never been about starting from zero.
Shakespeare rewrote old tales. Jane Austen fictionalized her own society. Countless authors have borrowed myth, history, and archetype, turning shared culture into private confession.
So when a fanfiction writer borrows a universe from Harry Potter or Attack on Titan or the OG One Direction, they are doing what storytellers have always done: taking something known and making it new. The only difference is that fanfiction doesn’t hide its lineage – it celebrates it.
Every “what if” is an act of courage. What if he didn’t die? What if they loved each other in another lifetime? What if justice actually prevailed this time? These aren’t just indulgent fantasies – they’re emotional counter-narratives. They’re the kind of honesty professional literature sometimes forgets to allow.
The Freedom of Writing Without Permission
Fanfiction is often dismissed because it’s “amateur.” But there’s a strange beauty in that word. Amateur comes from amator—to love. An amateur is someone who creates for the sheer love of it.
When I started writing fanfiction, I didn’t care about markets or metrics. I cared about whether a line made someone pause, whether a stranger in another time zone felt the ache I did. That unfiltered intimacy – the exchange between writer and reader, both hiding behind usernames – feels more sacred than most polished novels.
In fanfiction, you fail publicly and grow fearlessly. You learn by doing. You discover your voice not in a classroom but in comment threads and late-night rewrites. And for many of us, it’s the only place we were ever told, “Your story matters.”
Wattpad, AO3, and the Digital Empires of Emotion
The world of fanfiction lives online – built on glowing screens, late nights, and shared hearts. Platforms like Wattpad and AO3 (Archive of Our Own) have completely changed how people write and connect through stories.
Wattpad was where many of us began (including me). It made writing easy and exciting: you could post a chapter and instantly reach people across the world. It gave young writers courage and visibility. But over time, something shifted. The focus moved from passion to popularity. The front page started to favor what could “trend” or be turned into a movie, instead of stories written straight from the heart. Somewhere in that rush, the messy, magical part of writing – the one that didn’t care about numbers – started to get lost.
In recent years, Wattpad has lost its essence. What used to be everyone’s go-to platform has become dull. Wattpad has made so many changes in its greed that they are losing their followers, including me, who have shifted to AO3.
AO3 is not a marketplace; it’s a home. It’s powered by love, volunteers, and a sense of community. The tagging system is wild, funny, and oddly poetic – a reminder that every writer belongs, no matter how niche their story might be. On AO3, you’ll find everything: heartbreak in second-person, parodies that poke fun at canon, and 200,000-word masterpieces written just because someone needed to tell that story. It’s messy, beautiful, and real.
The only thing AO3 can improve is to enable a chat feature, where we can directly chat with the authors, comment in between the chapters, and give kudos on every chapter, because once is never enough.
Still, neither space is perfect. AO3 can feel overwhelming if you’re new; all those tags and filters can make it hard to know where to start. Wattpad, meanwhile, could use a little less algorithm and a little more authenticity again.
Maybe what we really need isn’t another platform, but a better approach: one where writers are supported, not compared. Where creativity is measured in connection, not clicks.
Because at the end of the day, we all just want to tell stories that matter and find people who care enough to listen.
Rewriting the Rules of Literature
The gatekeepers of “serious” writing often miss the point: fanfiction is not competition; it’s conversation. It asks, what if art wasn’t owned? What if stories belonged to everyone who loved them enough to reshape them?
Fanfiction is the democratic form of literature. It dismantles the idea that you need a publisher’s approval to matter. It’s storytelling stripped of ego, money, and permission. It’s women, queer voices, and marginalized creators writing themselves into worlds that once excluded them.
There’s a tenderness in that act; a reclamation. Because when you rewrite a story, you’re not stealing it. You’re healing it.
Writing as an Act of Love
When I think about the years I spent writing fanfiction, I don’t see embarrassment. I see community. I see comment sections that turned into friendships. I see strangers who stayed up until 3 a.m. waiting for a new chapter, sending heart emojis and keyboard smashes.
Those chaotic, beautiful exchanges were never about perfection. They were about connection. And isn’t that what literature was always meant to do?
Every fanfic writer is driven by love – sometimes romantic, sometimes rebellious, always sincere. And in a world where art so often feels transactional, sincerity is radical.
The Ending Isn’t the End
I’m still a fanfic writer today, even if I have shifted fandoms (not entirely, though). It makes me calm, silences the range of ideas that storm in my head, and is still one of my favourite hobbies.
So, to anyone who’s ever been told their fanfiction isn’t “real writing,” I say this: it’s more real than most things on a bookshelf. It’s raw, unguarded, and defiantly human.
Because if writing is an act of creation, fanfiction is rebellion.
And rebellion, when it’s done with love, is the purest form of art.
If you want exclusive tips and want to explore more on the topic, check out my kofi page and show your support; buy me a coffee!
Leave a Reply