The story behind my most successful fanfic

 As I've written before, I got my real start writing fanfics, and most of those fanfics have been left unfinished. But I did finish a few, and one of them even got a recommendation on TV Tropes! Unfortunately, it was a fanfic I've come to have mixed feelings for. This is the story behind that fanfic, called Power Rangers: Public Enemies.

The fanfic's story was that the Power Rangers made enemies of the government, so most of them had to go into hiding. Then some start fighting back, things go wrong, and in the end almost everyone dies. The end.

If that sounds a bit underwhelming, it's because this is one fanfic I'd much rather leave behind me. 

I first began writing this fanfic around May of 2010. I had rented a movie that week, called Batman and Superman: Public Enemies. Well, inspiration struck when I asked myself "what if this happened to the Power Rangers?" And, well, everything went from there.

Another major inspiration was Watchmen, by Alan Moore. I had recently finished reading the comic, and my mind was RACING with how utterly brilliant it was. I wanted to write something like it so badly!

Anyway, that's how I got started writing. I had an idea, and I had the drive. It should have gone smoothly, but something happened.

Look, 2010 was no easy year for me. A LOT of things were going wrong, and my emotional and mental health were taking some hits. Worse still, I didn't seek help; I was drowning in my own sorrow and helplessness. And try as I might, nothing worked my way.

This informed my writing. As my emotional health deteriorated, my writing grew angrier and more mean spirited. Characters were suffering left and right because I was making them suffer.

I think that, by the time I was done with the story, I was already making strides towards climbing out of my own pit. I had moved out of the apartment I was staying in, I was on my way to dropping out of grad school, and generally I was moving myself away from the situations that were causing me undue stress.

For a while, I was proud of my fanfic, VERY proud. I think it was two years after publishing it that the more negative reviews began to pour in. And they were VERY negative. Some readers were sickened by the violence. Others claimed the fic was poorly written. But there was one review that killed whatever pride I had for the story.

She was someone who claimed to have been reduced to tears reading the story, and not in a positive way. She wrote in her review that the story made her cry because of how utterly violent it was. She questioned if I even liked Power Rangers, because of how I treated them in the story. She then claimed that what I wrote was the worst fanfic she had ever read, far worse than Agony in Pink. And that got to me.

For those not in the know, Agony in Pink is a snuff story where the Pink Ranger gets tortured to death.

As I sat and read her review, I felt my spirit get demolished. I could not even write back an apology to her, because she had me blocked. I was left with nothing but shame and regret for having made someone cry, without intending to.

I can take negative feedback. I can take being called trash, stupid, and many other harsh words. But someone telling me they cried because my work was THAT traumatizing to them? I couldn't. I felt the wind knocked out of me.

For years I angrily blamed myself for making her cry. For too long I internalized the idea that I wrote something that deserved to be derided, hated, DELETED OFF THE INTERNET. But I didn't delete it. And honestly, I'm glad I didn't.

I attempted to rewrite the fanfic, and although I was praised for it, for "doing it right," I didn't feel right doing it. Thirteen chapters in (of a planned thirty five) I stopped writing. I lost my passion for the rewrite.

It wasn't until 2019 that I finally accepted a simple, but harsh truth: I can't control how other people react to my work, and that's OK. Not everything you ever write will be beloved, and you're not gonna LOVE everything you make. Some stories, you'll be ashamed of, even.

But am I ashamed of the fanfic? Not anymore. Some would argue I should be, but I'm not. Why? Because writing it was cathartic for me, and in many ways it gave me the emotional outlet I was desperately in need of those days.

I shouldn't have to feel ashamed for having written such a fanfic. That the reader didn't like it? I'm sorry they didn't. That they cried while reading it? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make them cry. But I'll never be sorry for writing the story, because if I wrote it like this, it's because I was in a dark place in my life, and I hope people can respect that.