“I’m so glad you’re better. Thank you.” Encounters like that are unforgettable.
I’ve attended over a hundred conventions since 2007 and have had so many people share amazing stories with me. Big and small. Like a woman who was inspired to self-publish a novel because of my work, or a family who decided to paint video game characters on their kid’s bedroom wall, despite never having picked up a paintbrush before. Or the dozens and dozens of web series that people have made because of what Kim and I did with The Guild.
At an event last year, I met a man in his late thirties, a big guy, who carried a poster roll and seemed nervous to approach. I shook hands with him over the signing table, trying to make him feel comfortable.
“Hi! My name’s Felicia! How are you?!”
“Uh, okay. I’m just here to give you something.” While talking, he started fumbling to open the poster tube. He was shaking. It wasn’t smooth.
“Oh wow, I love presents! Not that I’m greedy, I’m polite when I take things from people. If they’re free. Or not. I’ll stop talking.” Felicia Day, folks! Awkward, especially during public appearances!
He pulled out a poster from his tube and unrolled a print of me as Codex, but done in a cool computer-art way, with a graphic style that was somewhere between pointillism and impressionism.
“This is gorgeous!” And it was. “Did you make this? Are you an artist?”
“Aw, no. I just drive a forklift at Costco. I’m not creative. I don’t know how to do anything . . .”
“Wait, you aren’t creative? But you made this.” I held up the print.
“It was just in the computer.”
“But it didn’t exist before you turned the computer on and made it, right?”
“I guess.”
“Then you created it.” I was starting to get upset but kept myself in check. “Don’t talk to yourself like that. You HAVE created things. You see the world in a unique way, and you expressed it right here in this poster.”
“Well, I dunno. It’s not good or anything.”
“Well, I think it’s good. But if you think that, you can get better. By doing more things, right?”
The guy nodded, uncomfortable. But I kept going. For some reason, it was important for him to understand what I was saying. (And I enjoy lecturing people.)
“Never put yourself down about things that you create. That mean voice inside you that says, ‘You’re not good enough’ is not your friend, okay? I used to hear that voice all the time. If I hadn’t started ignoring it, I wouldn’t be here right now. Okay?”
“Okay.” He started to shuffle backward. Probably scared. “Thanks for what you do, it’s inspiring.”
“Thank you for the poster!” I waved, then stood up. “Excuse me.”
I walked behind the curtain of my booth and started bawling.
I wept for this guy, who was so vulnerable in front of me, and who, for some reason, felt the need to put himself down when he presented something he’d made from scratch. I don’t let people get away with putting themselves down anymore. There are enough negative forces in this world—don’t let the pessimistic voice that lives inside you get away with that stuff, too. That voice is NOT a good roommate.
A lot of people mock fandom and fan fiction, like it’s lazy to base your own creativity and passion on someone else’s work. But some of us need a stepping-stone to start. What’s wrong with finding joy in making something, regardless of the inspiration? If you feel the impulse, go ahead and write that Battlestar Galactica/Archie mashup fiction! Someone online will enjoy it. (Especially if Archie gets ripped apart by Cylons.)
Over the years, I’ve received some of the most badass fan art you’ve ever seen. I have tons of dolls and paintings and sculptures of my characters in various projects that people have given me, made out of felt and plaster and pipe cleaners and poster board. I keep every single piece and put it in a storage unit that I pay WAY too much for every month for that sole purpose. This is partly because when fans give me things, it obviously means a lot to them and I don’t want to have that go unrecognized. And partly because I once found a biography of Janice Dickinson in a Goodwill inscribed to an unnamed famous supermodel that said, “Love you forever!” I can’t imagine how mortified Janice would be at finding her book given away, so I live in fear of that happening with a fan of mine. Personal guilt issues, I guess. (Side note: I also have props and clothing from all my projects I’ve acted in, just in case I’m homeless one day and need to eBay for food.)
In my home office, I have a cabinet dedicated to some of my favorite things people have given me over the years. It’s not weird to have forty dolls of yourself staring at you, right? Please reassure me about this.
I like being able to see the pieces of art while I work. It reminds me of what’s important about what I do.