Advertisements

We had agreed to help my mother with shopping, but leaving the house is not a simple matter for my family. My eldest son had to submit his AFL football tips, which requires some serious thought. My daughter insisted on watching the latest episode of Weird stuff to avoid accidental spoilers on social media. My youngest son binged on a repeat episode of Master Chef to laugh at the contestants' under-pressure cooking techniques. But time is of the essence, as they also arranged to meet friends at the cinema later that afternoon for the latest Marvel movie.

As for me, I am an avid reader and classic romance aficionado. I wanted to contact a cool Facebook group that is discussing Anne of Green Gables to see if any new provocative questions had been posted. I had my own impressions about Moby Dick to anchor to the paper. And I really wanted to write down ideas for a Charles Dickens fanfic spin-off A tale of two cities which I will certainly write someday.

A niggling inner voice sometimes asks me if I've been a bad influence on my children. Perhaps these activities should be postponed because they are not important but simply self-indulgent.

Advertisements

Do you also like to dive into a good story? Or watching movies, listening to podcasts or buying tickets to live shows? Do you save up for your favorite team's merchandise? Maybe the pleasure of adding a new favorite character to your list of literary passions will make your day. My daughter collects hundreds of vinyl figures that she loves from books and screens. Her round eyes seem to follow you whenever you enter her room. At one stage, hearing the name 'Harry Potter' could make my ears twitch in a packed auditorium.

Maybe you're dying to know who's getting married at the end of your romance, or who the villain is. And you covered the back and front of several pieces of paper with scribbles, so as not to forget the details of the plot. Hey, maybe you'll even figure out the mystery before Poirot does.

— But what's the point of all this? a motivated medical missionary friend once asked me.

A tight, knotty sensation tightened my throat. It always happens when I panic. 'Because it's fun' It didn't seem to cut it, so I didn't say it. I'm not smart enough to add anything big to the world of science, engineering, politics, or education. I don't do anything important. The sparkle in her eyes meant she saw right through me. I can't identify a single soul who benefits from my love of reading and daydreaming. After all, it is not practical like the healing and helping work she is involved in. I'm just a super passionate fan, but so what? Benefiting from someone else's creative work is not a skill, but a luxury.

Advertisements

I mumbled something about this kind of thing being mostly for downtime and escaped before she could ask, 'Downtime from what?' The brief exchange remained like smoke in my mind. Am I the ultimate parasite, wasting my life, absorbing without the means to give much? I wanted to avoid the next logical guilt trip of a question, but it seeped into my consciousness. Am I pulling my weight on this planet?

I tell you, I'm not a fan of curly existential questions. Instead, I became a huge fan of someone else, who was also a sincere fan.

Let me take you back over two thousand years ago, to a fangirl who knelt in the desert sunset at the feet of a visiting great storyteller, captivated by every word he spoke. But her ragged older sister stuck her sweaty face out of the kitchen and cleared her throat.

'Ahem, excuse me, but has anyone noticed that I'm doing all the work around here?'

Her guest's raised eyebrows invited her to elaborate.

—What I mean is this. I'm cooking and scrubbing and stirring pots, while Mary sits here doing nothing. Don't you think she should give me a hand?

The fangirl's cheeks burned. She was used to hearing her sister scold her to do something 'useful', but never dreamed that she would draw her guest into their tense family dynamic. Wow, I'll get to that later.

The great sage simply smiled. 'Martha, you're stressed about a lot of things on your plate, but if Mary chose the best of them all, who am I to deprive her? She's not doing anything. I'm almost done telling this story. Won't those falafels stay for a moment? Why not stay and hear the end?'

The fangirl realized that her mouth was open and closed her mouth. Wow, what did he just say? Did he mean that being a fangirl was an acceptable use of her time after all?

We never found out exactly what was interrupted. What was he talking about to captivate her so much? Was it one of your signature stories or something entirely new? Was it worth risking whiplash? Since Mary was so fascinated, wouldn't you love the inside scoop?

But we never find out, because that's not the point. The spotlight is taken away from the famous storyteller and focused on his listener. Her attitude strikes him as completely commendable, to the point where he considers it a perfect use of her time. And she never seems to go away and do something mind-blowing with whatever she takes on board. There is no 'Book of Mary' in the Bible where this story takes place. His receptive and passionate heart was enough. She prioritized time for fun and fascination. Maybe when a receptive and passionate heart is the best we have to offer, that's enough for us too.

'Yes, well, someone has to cook the meal and wash the dishes,' my practical and busy friend points out.

Well, of course, it goes without saying that hard, tangible work is a great benefit. Sometimes people in Martha's shoes are right to speak up. But hard workers often get the pats on the back they deserve because the results of their industry are clear. This incident makes another point. Do those of us who simply enjoy the fandom deserve praise too?

And if our happy, worried smiles as we curl up with our books, turn on our screens, or poke our headphones in are beacons, signaling others not to turn away from what brings them joy. It's incredibly easy to get caught up in the waves of duty and purpose. Perhaps the danger is that this pleasure drift does not necessarily seem alarming. Just normal. Perhaps our passionate pursuits He does has a point. Ours is the delightful duty of reminding others that it is vital to make time for everything that makes our hearts sing.

One time, my daughter and I walked into a store while she was wearing War of Thrones T-shirt. An employee stacking shelves nearby smiled widely and shouted, "Hey, do you think Jon Snow is really dead?"

An invigorating chat ensued, which ended up being one of the highlights of my daughter's day. A shared fandom is a party that makes friends out of strangers. Enthusiasts like my daughter, who are willing to wear their hearts on their t-shirts, can spread grace and joy wherever they go. And best of all, it is given free of charge, without consideration for compensation or return.

Another of my favorite role models, author Elizabeth Gilbert, says, “You may end up with only the satisfaction of knowing that you spent your existence in devotion to the noble human virtue of curiosity. This should be more than enough for anyone to say that they have lived a rich and splendid life.

So please keep reading, my fellow nerds! Watch the documentary, learn how this game works, tell us your favorite novel from any specific series and explain why. When I'm feeling a little fruitless, I sometimes remember that old fangirl Mary, who was never officially dubbed the Patron Saint of Fans, but arguably should have been.

The last time we saw one of my nephews, he said, 'I love it when I hang out with you guys because everyone talks about fictional characters like they're real people.' I choose to take this as a true compliment. Because if this is truly what he loves, then he's come to the right place.