Those who’ve visited my web site lately may have noticed that I’ve begun moving away from referring to myself as a “fan fiction writer” in favor of the term “shared universe writer.” This is really a more accurate term to describe what I do, because while there’s some overlap between shared universes and fan fiction universes, there are also some differences.
Fandom is defined by Google (using Oxford Languages) as the fans of a particular person, team, fictional series, etc. regarded collectively as a community or subculture. The important part of this definition, for many involved in fandom, is the word “collectively.” Individuals are fans; groups are fandoms. Fan fiction in this particular usage, then, is usually defined as fiction written by a fan of, and featuring characters from, a particular TV series, movie, etc. (Ibid.) This usage isn’t the original meaning of the term, but the idea of it as “fiction written by fans” dates back to at least the 1960s.
A broader definition of “fandom” and “fan fiction” uses the same meanings, but also applies it to anything derived from a story that was originally created by someone else. For example, there are active fandoms for Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Darkover series and for J.D. Robb’s In Death series, both of which exclusively exist as novels and short stories. There are also fandoms comic books, video games and even individual songs. That’s before we begin talking about the concept of music group or other real person fandoms, which also have been the source of fan fiction stories.
A shared universe, on the other hand, is a bit broader. Wikipedia defines it as a fictional universe from a set of creative works where one or more writers (or other artists) independently contribute works that can stand alone but fits into the joint development of the storyline, characters, or world of the overall project, and differentiates it from collaborative writing. Shared universes allow for the work of multiple creators to develop the fictional universe in question, without there being a single copyright owner or producer. The source material for fan fiction is generally attributed to a single copyright owner; for shared universes, copyright is more spread out.That’s literally the only difference between the two concepts: a shared universe is a fictional universe that multiple authors can use to independently create works that fit into the same storyline, characters, or world. Fan fiction is original writing by fans that’s based on an existing work of fiction, but is not authorized. (Quote Source) The line between fan fiction universes and shared universes is very thin indeed, particularly when one considers that fan fiction works have sometimes generated their own fandoms; one of the best examples of this is the fandom associated with the story “My Immortal,” which has some overlap with Harry Potter but stands alone.
Why, then, have I been slowly shifting my terminology?
It has to do with what are called alternate universes (or A/Us) in fan fiction circles, which often involves not just working within the source material, but actually reimagining it in a different way. Sometimes an A/U changes the outcome of a particular event in the source material and stays relatively close to it otherwise. But sometimes an A/U can range some distance away from the source material, even to the point of being barely related to it at all.
I’ve been reading A/Us for years. One of my absolute favorites is Rigil Kent’s Star Trek: Endeavour series, which while being based on Star Trek: Enterprise, takes a very different direction than the “official” relaunch novels. After reading both, I found that I actually preferred Endeavour to the relaunch novels. This isn’t the first time I’ve discovered that fan fiction is better than the authorized tie-ins. Alternate universes in particular often introduce new characters and situations that aren’t part of the source material, but I only discovered recently that fan fiction authors can claim copyright to their original items.
That’s right. Fan fiction can be copyrighted by its author; the catch is that it can only be done so in part. Rigil Kent can claim copyright on the wonderfully developed characters of Rick Eisler and Scott Reynolds from Endeavour. He can’t copyright the series’ stories in their entirety, but nobody else can use those characters without his permission, unless it’s done so as fan fiction of the fan fiction. The iterations of “fan fiction of the fan fiction” could theoretically become endless, and could even potentially evolve to the point that an author potentially could copyright an entire story because it has so drastically departed from the original source material.
This blurs the line between fan fiction and shared universes even more.
As my own fan fiction writing has evolved, I’ve found myself writing alternate universes more and more often. I have at least three series under development, based on three different television series fandoms. One of them departs pretty significantly from the source material as the series progresses. The other two are written in “post-series” time frames, the events of which have never been canonically established. I’ve also written a few standalone alternate universe stories, primarily by intent (they weren’t Jossed).At one point I even considered “filing the serial numbers” off of the alternate universe series based on Castle. I considered it seriously enough to sketch out the original universe version, but even though doing so worked much better than I thought it would, I preferred sticking with the fan fiction version. Still, this clearly suggests that my fan fiction work is evolving in an original-fiction direction, even if it never quite gets there. But it’s already different enough for me to want to differentiate it from stories that are set during the source material’s time frames.
The clincher came last year, when I was invited to participate in an original shared literary universe. I can’t provide many details of it yet — they’re not mine to share — but my participation in it did come fairly early in the universe’s development. I’ve also had a number of conversations with the creators, asking questions relevant to my own stories, that resulted in them making changes to the universe as a whole. As of right now, I have two short stories under consideration in a possible anthology, and I also have the premise, notes, and a high-level outline for what is likely going to end up being a standalone work.
Those who issued the invitation weren’t aware of this, but it came just as I was beginning to despair of being able to ever manage to complete an original fiction project of my own (at that point, I had yet to do so). But I not only was able to complete both of the first two stories; I was able to do so without losing my motivation or desire to write. That’s when the realization hit: I actually can write original fiction. The problem is that I try to do too much with my original stories. If I approach my original fiction the way I approach my fan fiction, I not only can get things done, but I actually will.
That realization was driven home even more this past March when I realized that a fan fiction story I was trying to write was also floundering because I was trying to do too much. This also explained why a particular original fiction project, one that I’ve literally been working on for decades, has never quite managed to come together. Once I began approaching it as fan fiction — albeit involving a world and universe of my own making — it began to take off. At this point, I don’t know whether I will invite other writers into it, but there’s a decent possibility of that happening. Even if I don’t, approaching it this way is actually working.
Between the blurred lines, and the realization that I write better (and more) if I take a fan-fiction approach even with my original fiction, I decided that it was better for me to characterize more of my work as shared universe fiction, instead of dividing it into “fan fiction” and “original fiction.”
Precedent exists for writing original fiction in shared universes. Many of Stephen King’s works exist within a shared universe, and it’s hard to be a science fiction reader and not know about the Discworld, Foundation/Robot, or Known Space universes. There are dozens of other examples, both literary and cross-platform, and they’ve existed for a long time. They range from multimedia franchises owned by major production companies, to small series written by a single author. In many cases, particularly on the latter ends of the continuum, they’ve come into being for the same reason I encountered: there was too much story to be told in just one plotline, and efforts to braid them weren’t working.
For the moment, then, I’ve begun viewing myself as primarily a shared universe writer. Some of the universes belong to others, but I have (at least) two of my own; and I don’t find it unreasonable to think that I could eventually invite other writers to play in my universes once I’m able to get them properly developed. I may not always define myself this way, but for right now, it’s keeping me productive, and in the end, that’s the most important. To be a writer, it’s important to write, and if taking on this mindset is something that will help me keep doing it, then I’ll gladly do just that.