12. In Black and White
Hi there. Welcome to Active Faults.
When the case of the Chained Woman received official court jurisdiction in April this year, Tianyi’s name reappeared in the internet chatterings that raged over the verdict. A Weibo user explained it well: if you gave a 10-year sentence to a woman for writing, publishing and selling gay erotica, don’t blame the public for protesting the unduly lenient 9-year sentence you gave to a man who trafficked, raped, abused and incarcerated a woman with chains around her neck. Don’t blame the Internet Courtroom for “citing the death sentence as the bare minimum”, because Tianyi’s verdict was simply too harsh.
The danmei community cannot look past this verdict, because the connotation of self-publication has changed since then. The last issue shows how producing and consuming fan fiction can be a bonding ritual. Self-publication of danmei fan fiction is that and more.
Mementoes
Since the beginning of time, since the first appearances of fan fiction, there have been fan zines. Star Trek slash writers, yes you guessed it, were amongst the first who produced them with printers at home. “Concerto, Symphony and Solitary Obsession”, the fan fiction I mentioned last time, was repeatedly made into zines by enthusiastic readers and not the writer herself, so beloved they are still in high demand. Buying physical copies of dearly cherished fan fiction is like buying fridge magnets on a joyful holiday. They are touchable mementoes for an emotionally fulfilling experience and keepsakes to validate our identity as fans. They take up space on our bookshelves, just as how the ship has taken up a sizable corner of our minds.
This emotional value of danmei fan fiction zines is heightened when they’re made through collective efforts. A group of writers can publish a combined zine (hezhi 合志), each writing an individual piece on a shared theme or ship. They’ll come together to brainstorm ideas, proofread drafts, encourage each other and co-design the final product. It’s a creative safe space for women to build something of their own.
Danmei fanzines can also take on an economic value if the writer chooses to monetize it. For some, it’s an important source of income. The revenue gained from selling fanzines is normally not fed back to the celebrities themselves but kept for personal uses. This leads to another fundamental question that’s often raised in fandom: should fan content creators commercialise their work, and do that make them less “devoted” followers but more “money-hungry opportunists”?
The Process
Although fanzines are tales as old as fanfiction itself, the added aura of illicitness isn’t. Since Tianyi, danmei fanfiction writers who want to self-publish are forced to become ever more cryptic and discreet about their attempts especially when it includes NSFW content.
For a danmei fic writer looking to self-publish, the process roughly goes like this. First, preliminary market research is conducted. The writer would survey how many readers are interested in a copy, normally in the form of a Weibo poll post that’s only visible to the followers of their account. Then, the writer compiles the materials and proofreads them, sometimes self-censoring and leaving explicit content out. They can then commission calligraphy artists and/or painters to help with cover designs. They will find self-publication service providers on Taobao that help with technicalities like typesetting and act like the middleman between the writer and black-market printing factories willing to take on such gigs. After the zines are printed, the writer would normally collect the addresses of readers themselves before shipping the zines from their homes.
Before Tianyi, there used to be individual zine studios (个志工作室) that will take care of everything mentioned above. They assume a publisher’s role and cater towards all kinds of virtual content creators, including yuandan and tongren writers. But the world can change overnight. A reader who bought an original danmei zine in 2018 recounted such an experience: they missed a call from the delivery staff and didn’t receive the long-awaited package. It was returned to the sender, the studio, and when they requested it to be reshipped, Tianyi was arrested on that day. The studio abruptly closed down, disappeared and the package would never arrive again.
Many mourn the death of the Gezhi (个志, individual zines) Era of the past decade when danmei writers can enlist a studio and easily make it to the printing press. Nowadays the obstacles are various, each step of the way having the ripe potential of triggering grave repercussions. One of the few last resorts is contacting fan fiction publishers based in Taiwan or North America, and arranging for the final prints to be shipped back to mainland. Possible mishaps induced by complex geopolitics throughout such a liaison go without me saying.
Even then, overseas publishers that used to service mainland writers are leaving the Chinese market and deactivating their Weibo accounts, just like Google, LinkedIn and so on. Since 2020, COVID-19 and policies hostile to foreign culture have forced events like ComicCup (CP for short, the Chinese equivalent of Comic Con hosted biannually in Shanghai) to shut down or reduce in size. A key offline site for relatively safer circulation and exchange of danmei fan fiction zines, CP’s decline has given writers even fewer reasons to self-publish.
Flimsy Wall
In 2022, a semi-well-known danmei writer on Weibo explicitly warned against writing and self-publishing NSFW danmei at all.
Look at the verdicts of court cases these days: rapist who assaulted their own daughter got 5 years, wife murderer got 6 years [...] Someone who PhotoShopped a cover design for a smutty danmei zine got 4.
Danmei circles are terrifying, tongren and yuandan alike. Cyberbullying and offline death threats are not uncommon [if people find out you’re a danmei writer] while identity-exposing and reporting become easier to do. Think twice: is it worth it?
Your ship is just a source of endorphins. You’re but a user ID to your readers. You’re a piece of paperwork to the system. But you’re a precious child to your family. You only have one lifetime and stay away from danger.
In response to some comments saying harsh verdicts are only given to those who gained monetary profit from self-publishing NSFW danmei, they write:
“two year in jail, max” - are you willing to be quarantined in a hotel for two years, let alone a prison?
I have one example for you. A writer I know got arrested because she was reported to the police by someone in her reader-fan group chat. Minimum people were admitted in, completely non-profit, she only drew a smutty piece of fanart and quietly posted it amongst her supposedly devoted followers but still got reported. A police investigation was underway, she got lectured and then released.
Wise men know better than standing underneath a flimsy wall, and in a society where laws and regulations are flawed, the problem needs to be solved by those in power. It’s not worth injuring our civilian heads by running into the wall.
The comments sections of these posts saw a political discussion pan out. One side argues “If we obey even when bullied like this and lecture others to be obedient too, we’d only get bullied even more”. Today is criminalizing danmei, tomorrow is forcing you to have a third child (referring to the recent One-Child-Policy reversal to boost birth rates). Safety is not guaranteed by obedience.
Others, including the OP, contend that “the rebellious spirit is not to be applied like this”. Only the writer themselves can rebel and bear the consequences if they choose to do so, while the readers do not have the right to encourage anything. They mock this view as childish, asking questions like “Do you even know what you’re standing up to?” and “What to do if not obey? Riot?” Some assert that they don’t have the capital to challenge the laws and the opponent is just too powerful to bring down. We can’t even resist the daily PCR test in our compounds. If the day comes when we all disobey, it will be a “gm” (short for geming meaning revolution), unthinkable because it can’t even be spelt out without fear of censorship. If anything, the rebels should be helping the writer 润 (slang for emigrating) before even suggesting such a sentiment.
In a way, what Tianyi’s case has done is introduce the same set of debates (intensified and polarised even more by Zero COVID) to a new arena: to rebel or not to rebel? If so, how can we proceed and how long can we go on before getting crushed? If not, how should we live on? 1
Next month I’ll be bringing you a Summer Special that will provide a better look at what Chinese fans are looking for in the entertainment industry. It’ll be super.
See you then!
*Cover source is here.
The source of these discussions and names of authors, studios and publications is not provided to protect the speakers’ identities. Likewise, no pictures of danmei zines are included for the same reason.