Just whatever rants come to mind. This seems to be a great way to vent.


17. Just Rant Drivel

                Well, this rant is starting off with a clueless author who just wants another chapter to add to her book. That said, I guess I’ll start with what has annoyed me the most on this site recently. Smart-aleck responses. Let’s take an example here, say a girl by the name of Darcy, is a writer of fan-fictions. Her fan-fictions solely pertain to the illegal-yet-somehow-endearing actions of a boy singing group from England called Another Direction. Until then, the products of her twisted imagination had been confined to the pages of her diary.

                She had considered putting her unhealthy romances on the Internet before, but hadn’t managed to find the right site. Then she found Movellas, a site that claimed to exist for aspiring teen authors, but had become the Knockturn Alley for all One Direction fan-fiction writers. She looked at the mumbles page swamped with pictures of her boys, or her “five husbands” as she loved to call them, and she felt right at home.

                Darcy made herself an account. She was conflicted in her choice of a username. So many of the good ones, especially ones with profanity in them, seemed to be already taken. Finally, she settled with “1dloveslave”. Yes, it fit her perfectly. Darcy scoured the site for ideas. She wanted to have fans, hundreds of them!

                Kidnap stories were popular. Stories with rape in them got lots of views. All the girls were pretty and weak and let the guys save them. She like the idea of being carried away by a dimpled God instead of fighting her own battles. The things she knew from real life, her common sense, everything went out the window in favor of her so-called “idols”.

                Sitting at her laptop, or in more likeness, at her phone she typed feverishly, putting her dirty fantasies into words. Typos? She was sure the readers would live. Illogical story? Anything can happen, she surmised. Finally her first chapter was finished.

                To make the character relatable she had made her insecure. Her main character, coincidentally named Darcy, described herself to have golden blonde hair, a skinny figure, and deep blue eyes. Yet she also thought she wasn’t as “hot” as her friends. Her parents were dead, her step-father hit her and made her work four jobs. Her sassy friends were always with her yet didn’t help her with her problems. Darcy (the real one) let reality go to the wind as the likes poured in.

                She read the comments.

                “You are SOOOOOOOO good!”

                “Update update update!”

                “U are suh a gud riter! Dis shud be publlishd!”

                The words, however sparse, filled her heart with pride and she continued to “rite”. From the comments she knew that her work was liked, and it confirmed her suspicions that she didn’t need spell-check, she didn’t need grammar, and she definitely didn’t need paragraphs. She had figured out the formula for success, a romance that was as lewd as possible, masquerading as something deeper, preferably with an illegal element such as kidnapping thrown in for good measure.

                To get more exposure she mumbled about her book, she asked for reads wherever she could find, on whoever’s mumbles and in the comments of whatever books, regardless of whether or not she had actually read them. It wasn’t like the author would suspect. She usually left a cool comment too.

                “Hey nyc story! Read mine?”

                Her movella climbed the popularity lists, and she smiled to herself gleefully. Darcy thought of her English teacher in her middle school, preaching the importance of properly placed commas, the usage of the semi-colon, the necessity of paragraphs and spelling. It seemed to her that her English teacher (with a Master’s degree in the subject) was wrong.

                One fateful day she checked the comments for her daily dose of badly-spelled praise. Among the one-liner comments there was something longer. Darcy furrowed her eyebrows in suspicion. No one had bothered to write more than two sentences before.

                She spotted their name. How strange… the name didn’t have anything One Direction related in it. It was just a name, a normal name like her real name. She continued on to the actual comment, a total of five lines.

                “Okay, so I just came across this. Fan-fiction isn’t really my thing, but I read it anyway, since you requested a read in one of my mumbles. The first thing I have to say is, it’s rated wrong. There are more than several R-rated scenes in this book, and it should be rated as “Red”, definitely not “Green”. Second, you should go through the entire book once, because there are a lot of spelling errors. Third, paragraphs would be nice. It’s hard to read an entire chapter when it’s just a solid block of words. Even the dialogue has not been written as a separate paragraph. So, those are just my suggestions to make it better, and all the best on your movella.”

                Darcy seethed with anger. Her movella had over a hundred likes, and an equal number of praising comments. Looking at the person who had commented, she saw that they hadn’t even bothered to give her movella a “Like”. How rude! She knew she couldn’t directly retaliate. She was smarter than that. Instead she went to the person’s profile.

                Their books were all boring stuff. She just looked at the covers for most of them, none of them had a cute boy on the cover. She checked the first one out, one with a meagre twenty-two likes. It was a fantasy, with a phoenix, a boy on a ship, and strange beings called selkies. It sort of interested her, and the person wrote with almost no spelling errors, paragraphs, and everything was perfect grammatically. But it was not One Direction, she reminded herself.

                She knew how she was going to respond to his rudeness.

                “Well, no one else has complained about this. So I guess all that stuff isn’t important. There’s stuff on this site with all the right technical stuff, but they don’t have even half of the likes that my movella does.”

                She rambled on for two minutes until her ire was satisfied and she had insulted both the author and their work indirectly. She smirked to herself satisfied, it was what they deserved for not seeing the hidden genius in her movella.

                Coming back to the comment later, she saw that she had supporters. The comments made her heart swell with happiness at the loyalty of her fans. They had said what she wanted to say.

                “Stop hatin!”

                “That girl is a gr8 riter! Stop hatin!”

                “She can rite better than u, so keep ur opinyun to urself!”

                Mina, at her laptop, read through the comments, one at a time. She knew she was not going to be honest again on the website for a long time, and definitely never accepting another read request for a fan-fiction in her life. It was a hopeless cause.


*- P.S. I’m sorry if there is an actual “1dloveslave” on this site. I didn’t have Internet when I was writing this, and afterwards was far too lazy to check.



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