bunn: (dog knotwork)
[personal profile] bunn
I wrote a series of tiny stories about readers Not Leaving Kudos on ArchiveofOurOwn, prompted by a thread over on the [livejournal.com profile] ushobwri community. Kept them in a file for a bit and added one when I thought of one, and eventually in a fit of randomness posted them on Ao3.

I woke up this morning to find that 600-word story suddenly has way more kudoses than anything else I'd uploaded there.  I find this hilarious.

It's here.

Date: 2016-02-21 09:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com
I have of course left kudos!

Date: 2016-02-21 12:30 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Someone left a comment asking 'is it sarcastic' to which the honest answer is I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANY MORE :-D

Date: 2016-02-21 10:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] oonaseckar.livejournal.com
Oh, I read it already, it was fun! (And I did indeed leave (anon) kudos! It felt terribly ironic as I did so... which I guess was the intent!)

Date: 2016-02-21 12:27 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Absolutely. You should probably get an extra point for anon kudos, which raises a whole series of further questions: did the reader forget to log in, do they not have an account, is this the first thing they ever read on Ao3, are they paranoid so they turn off cookies, are they deliberately hiding their identity? If so why???

:-DDD

Date: 2016-02-21 03:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
I almost left anonymous kudos by mistake, but at the very last moment before clicking, remembering that my computer has recently seen fit to log me out of every website I regularly use, I thought to check that I was logged on. I wasn't. Cue several minutes of "OMG, what on earth is my password" angst. Granted, several failed password attempts and a bit of running around the house trying to find long-strayed scraps of notebook isn't the most trying of dramas, but it seemed in the spirit of the story to reveal the effort that lay behind that simple task of clicking the kudos button. :-D

Date: 2016-02-21 10:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
I'm divided between "not having an AO3 account" and "not wanting to leave a signed kudo for this kind of story". Certainly my fics with smut and kink gets the most of the anon kudos...

Date: 2016-02-22 08:32 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Based on the comments here, I'm thinking that 'finds self inexplicably logged out, what on earth is my password' is also a more common phenomenon than I had thought... :-D

Date: 2016-02-23 07:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
It seems so. :D I really don't mind anon kudos- I'm happy just to get them. I just find it amusing how they are more common on controversial fics.

What have you done to me?

Date: 2016-02-21 05:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
Because to every story, there is another side.


Arachne was slow to surface. For hours she had been transported, taken to a place where she ran on two legs and wore clothes; a place where she wept, where she laughed, where she loved. With just words, the author had made her become someone else; had shown her marvels.

I must leave kudos, Arachne thought. The author must know...

But how? Pure chance had led her to this word magic. With a random pattering of paws, the mighty Tibbles, nemesis of so many of her kin, had pressed the keys that had opened up this wonder. Tibbles was long gone now, stalking colossal rodents in the vastness of the kitchen. Only a fool would hope for the return of such a terrible beast and its fateful moving paw. No, Arachne was on her own now. If the "leave kudos" button was to be pressed – and it had to be pressed – she had to be the one to do it.

She skittered across the trackpad, but the pressure was as soft as a whisper of silk, and the pointer did not move. She gathered her legs together, one, two, three, but she was crafted for fine work, not brute work like this. Again she tried; again. Her carapace ached with the strain. Must… leave… kudos… she thought. Must...

All her focus was on her task. All her eyes were on the pointer on the screen, as it moved slowly, oh so slowly, towards her goal. She had nothing left to watch for Tibbles, dread in tooth and claw. Even had she seen him, she had no energy left to run. Everything she possessed was hurled into the stupendous effort of pressing that button.

And in the very moment that the jaws closed around her, it was done. I did it, she thought, as the teeth snapped shut. I...



(And in case you're wondering how she managed to scroll down through the story to read it, the answer is that spiders are very slow readers, so this story that transported her to another world for hours on end was actually only 478 words long. They weren't even a very good 478 words, but in the list of the creatures of the earth and the literary appreciation skills thereof, spiders rank fairly low, just behind emus.)

This really needs to stop

Date: 2016-02-21 05:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
His eyes were full of dust, and he had long since lost the strength to brush them clean. His legs were pinned beneath fallen pillars, beautifully carved and tangled with dying brambles. The goats were long gone. They had done their damage, felling the fragile aedifice, and scampered on their way.

They laughed at him, sometimes, in his dreams.

He might have given up days ago, he thought, had it not been for The Story. Ah, such a story! Only two fingers remained unbent, unbroken, but two fingers were enough. Enough to nudge the tablet from where it had tumbled from his pack. There was no signal out here, of course, but he had downloaded a long story before he had left for the wilds. Two fingers could open it. Two fingers could keep him reading; could make him weep cleansing tears for the pain of people that had never lived: pain that led to a happy ever after.

He would die here, he thought, but thanks to The Story, he would not die bereft.

He thought it was a fantasy, at first, the rescue. He thought it was the people from his story. He thought it was the goats. He laughed, at first, and then he wept.

"Lie still," they told him, as they loaded him into the helicopter. "You're very badly hurt. Don't move."

"Must…" he gasped. Machines beeped. People said things; sharp, urgent things. They didn't understand. They didn't...

"Lie still!" It was sharp now, almost brutal.

"No," he said. "No!" They were airborne now, taking him to safety. "Got to..." he rasped. "Got signal? Internet…? Need to..."

"No!" They were trying to hold him down, but he fought them. Two fingers were enough. Enough to find the tablet. Enough to see that he was there, he was connected. He could leave kudos! He had to... had to...

The machines were screaming now, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He had left kudos. The author would know.

He let the blackness take him.

There were goats.

Re: This really needs to stop

Date: 2016-02-21 06:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] huinare.livejournal.com
*contemplative silence*

*applause*

Re: This really needs to stop

Date: 2016-02-21 06:04 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Oh god. I was only able to read the second one after going away for some time to laugh like a drain and get it out of my system.

And then....

THE GOATS! THE GOATSSSSSS!!!!!!

Date: 2016-02-21 05:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] huinare.livejournal.com
The frazzled grad student considered leaving kudos on Bunn's story about not leaving kudos. "Is it really worth it to try and remember my password for this site and log in?" the grad student wondered to herself, becoming a mite more frazzled at the very thought of trying to remember yet another password.
"BUT," she reminded herself, "you COULD leave anon kudos."
She paused to consider, before deciding, "That's tacky, when you could just log in."
"Yes but then I must recall my password."
"Bunn is your friend and has written this funny and apt story, it's worth it."
"Why are we talking to ourselves now?"
"Ourselves? How many of us are there in here?"
"No matter. KUDOS LEFT. BAM."

Date: 2016-02-21 06:06 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
You had to post this when I had just finished reading ladyofastolat's. I got hiccups. I blame you both.

BAM.

whahahaha.

Date: 2016-02-21 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] huinare.livejournal.com
...Always glad to help.

Date: 2016-02-21 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] venuslover20.livejournal.com

Lol that was great and left Kudos ; ) 

Date: 2016-02-22 08:34 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Thank you!

I am divided between awe, rage, and helpless laughter at the appeal that story clearly has. Normally I write neurotically over-researched tiny-fandom stories that get an audience of five. :-D

Date: 2016-02-22 01:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] venuslover20.livejournal.com
I think is because is something all Fanfiction writers on AO3 can relate to.

Date: 2016-02-21 06:41 pm (UTC)
hhimring: Estel, inscription by D. Salo (Default)
From: [personal profile] hhimring
*delighted laughter*

Date: 2016-02-21 09:01 pm (UTC)
sally_maria: Black and white Asgard, caption Giggling Madly Inside (Giggling Madly)
From: [personal profile] sally_maria
Somebody I read on Dreamwidth recced it - I read it, laughed, and then went "bunn"? Why did I not know about this? how stupid of me.

So now I've finally subscribed to you, so I don't miss out on these things.

(As for kudos explosion, I'd blame cesperanza ;-D)

Date: 2016-02-22 08:37 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Hah!

Normally I do put things on LJ as well, can't remember why I didn't this time. Possibly interrupted by phonecall 'fly at once, all is known'. :-D

*Mutters darkly about Tumblr, newfangled doohickies etc* :-D

Date: 2016-02-21 09:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] topum.livejournal.com
This is great. I left kudos. It was my first time on Ao3.

Date: 2016-02-22 08:40 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
Whoa. That must be such an unusual way to find your way there!

*is proud*

I hope you have fun there!

Date: 2016-02-21 09:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
This was so funny and I left both kudos and a review (I'm Dancingsalome on AO3).

I once stumbled over a LJ post that raved over one of my fics, but the person in question had never left a review on the actual fic. Which I found a bit strange.

Date: 2016-02-22 08:52 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
That's so odd! It was people mentioning experiences like that on ushobwri that got me thinking of reasons people might not hit the button...

I love the fact that several commenters have come up with their own suggestions!

(also, I am noticing that the Leavers of Kudos, even on that story are running at about 2 of every five visits, which amuses me)

Date: 2016-02-23 07:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
I haven't seen this first hand, but a firend said she know people who tried to give friendly constructive feedback and got so burned by the author's rsponse that they now resude to give feedback on anything, not even with kudos. Sounds a bit strange to me.

I decided a year ago, or so, that I would leave a nice comment on Everything I read. It has slowed down my Reading, but I Think I have made a lot of people happy. After all, we all love feedback. :)

Now this really is getting silly now

Date: 2016-02-22 09:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
"Twelve seconds to impact," intoned the computer.

Kirk leant forward in his chair, sweat beading on his forehead and glistening on the bare shoulder revealed by the shirt that had become inexplicably torn over breakfast. "Come on..." he declaimed under his breath.

"Captain!" Mr Scott's excited voice burst over the radio. "All systems are restored, sir!"

"Eight seconds to impact," intoned the computer.

"Mr Spock!" commanded the captain. No time to thank Scottie, of course, not yet. "You know what to do."

"Indeed," Spock said, but he lied. His fingers dug into the edge of the console. Duty was clear... Oh, but no! Duty was clouded. Alone in his quarters, he had read such things, such sweet, forbidden things! He had been thrilled and deeply moved. He had felt... urges. The writers loved such things, of course: an emotionless being, alone, so alone, learning how to feel. He was no fictional character, but if he were, his writers would be melting in a... a puddle of squee – was that the phrase? – if they could see the emotions that roiled in his heart. He had refrained from leaving kudos, because nobody could be allowed to know. But that was fear talking, and fear was illogical. He was who he was. He had always done his duty. He would...

"Four seconds to annihiliation," intoned the computer.

Thought was instantaneous, but to put them into words took time. They had no time left.

His finger moved, slashing across the console. It pressed.

The computer spoke, impassive as ever. "One sec--"

This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-22 09:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
Pheidippides sank to the ground, his chest heaving, his muscles screaming.

Voices jabbered all around him. "What news?" they asked him. "Was there a battle? What of the Persians? Tell us? Tell us?"

He coughed, choking on city dust. Hands reached for him, but he batted them away. "Must..." he gasped. "Tell..." He coughed again, and fell forward, pain ripping through his chest. "Tell Aeschylus… Must let him know... Loved... I loved his play."

They grabbed him, took him up, shook him. "But what news of the battle?" It was asked in a dozen voices, in a dozen ways. But quiet and inescapable behind it, someone grumbled, "Isn't Aeschylus with the army? Why didn't the fool tell him then instead of running all the way back here?"

"Oh," said Pheidippides, as the waters of Lethe closed over his head and took him down and away.

___


Must. Resist. Urge to write the message in a bottle shipwreck one, and How We Brought The Kudos From Aix to Ghent, and the 1001 other ideas that woke me up at five in the morning and kept me awake for hours.

I blame you for this, you know. :-P

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-22 09:15 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
:-DDDD both at the snippet and, frankly, at you*

You've now written more of it than I did!

Shall I add you as a co-author so you can add these as chapter 2, or would that make things worse? :-DDD

*although given that I woke up at 5am to write more Russian Finrod Musical stuff, I really have no right to be laughing at anyone for the weird things their brain insists on doing.

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-22 10:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
I've done another one... :-O

Seems rather unfair to be given co-author status, given that all the kudos are rightfully belong to you. I guess, if you agree, I could post a companion story that references and gives due credit to your original...

I didn't intend to write so much, but sadly, I have absolutely NIL skill at writing short things. Ideas that really by rights out to be 500 words usually end up being at least 5000 when I get my hands on them. And the same happens to LJ comments, evidently. :-)

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-22 06:54 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
I don't feel any particular attachment to my strange new mountain of quasi-ironic kudoses tbh, but if that would fit better, by all means.

Hah, I wish I wrote that fast. Some of those microstories took me a whole dogwalk each!

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-23 08:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
My kudos wasn't ironic. It made me laugh out loud. :-)

I appear to have written two more (although one was a total rewrite of one I wrote yesterday, with added apocalypse, all your fault). I was thinking that there wasn't much point in posting them, but now I'm thinking that I really do need to post them, if only to tell my brain that this whole idea is now finished and out there and NOTHING MORE CAN BE ADDED TO IT, THE END.

Not really sure about what is the best way to post them, though. I'm kind of still boggling that the fandom you posted it in actually exists! :-O

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-23 08:54 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
I posted the first 2 as a frivolous comment elsewhere, and one of the A03 modlyfolk suggested it should go in there, I wouldn't have known it existed otherwise!

I was delighted to use the 'other relationships' checkbox for the first time and discover it made that... that... rune thing.

Post them. It will make me feel terribly important, as if I have Created a Genre :-D

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-24 08:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyofastolat.livejournal.com
Done. (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6097927) You are now officially the Creator of A Genre.

The sinister Rune of Other alarms me, so I made mine safely Gen.

Re: This. Must. Stop.

Date: 2016-02-24 10:17 am (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
I AM THE CREATOR OF A GENRE
Image

Date: 2016-02-22 11:07 am (UTC)
ext_90289: (Default)
From: [identity profile] adaese.livejournal.com
Kudos duly left. I am, btw, also one of the anonymous readers who did not leave kudos. This is because I first read it on my phone, which doesn't have my password saved on it the way the PC does, so if I'd left kudos then it would have been anon.

Date: 2016-02-22 06:55 pm (UTC)
ext_189645: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bunn.livejournal.com
I am discovering SO MANY new paths to Reading Without Kudos. This is most educational!

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