First let me just thank Kelly Anne for having me back for another Wattpad Block Party. I'm honored to be here and I hope you all like this look into my fandom-warped brain!

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A friend of mine has a saying for when something affects you so much, when it leaves such an incredible impression: moving in. Books move in. Movies move in. People move in. What better way to describe fandom and the fanfiction we're driven to write?

Fanfiction is where I started writing. It's world building and character development with training wheels. I already had something to start from with fanfiction. As a fan I built up from that base and created something myself. I'm so incredibly grateful that the creators of my fandoms allowed me to come in and play with their toys.

What started as a way of learning to write turned into a fun release. Something that I could purge out of my head and play around in when I'm working on something else that actually feels like work. I could flesh out characters that didn't have a lot of canon to fall back on, or even if they did I could shove them down a new path and make them react in ways not even thought of in canon. Or maybe it's just a bit of fluff and who doesn't love fluff every once in a while?

There's a fan for every ship, every kink, every plot, character, situation. There are purists who refuse to meander away from canon and have a very narrow idea of what canon is (even more prevalent in a fandom that isn't thoroughly developed), and you have the fans that view the world as their playground. What happens if this character is actually x? What if this event in the story never happened? What if the story were actually set in space?

The only boundaries in fanfiction are those set by a person's imagination and that's why I love it so much. My fandoms are The Lost Boys (1987 vampire movie), Labyrinth, Supernatural, and Harry Potter (I'll get to Divergent in a minute). I've written fics for all of these worlds. 

The Lost Boys is my first love and my Changing Light series (Hunted, And Then There Were Two, Rage Against the Dying of the Night) are all here on Wattpad. I wanted a pretty solid IC story (in character, for those not familiar with the lingo) that tried to emulate the tone of the movie (80s pseudo-horror-camp) and where I could develop characters that had next to no background or character development (all four vampires). When you're working with a 90 minute movie and the characters you want to write have roughly 13 minutes of screen time total (and that's being generous), there's a lot of wiggle room there (although some would beg to differ but that's an argument for another day). So I took what I saw on screen and blossomed it out. I backed into histories, I played with personalities. I tried to give them more than just pretty faces.

The world has tried to expand over the more recent years, but it's been done poorly and the fandom has largely rejected the movie's sequels and comic spin-offs. The only external piece of canon people seem to regularly rely on is the book based on the movie, but good luck finding a copy for under $100 (literally).

Fandoms like Supernatural and Harry Potter are incredibly lucky because there's SO MUCH to go on. Supernatural is on its 12th season and Harry Potter has its own encyclopedia of information, not to mention seven books, nine movies, official in-world spin-off books and I know I'm missing stuff there. You could say that this much information could be limiting because as a fanfiction writer you don't have a lot of room to play with character personalities, they're so thoroughly developed. In that same vein there are situations those same characters can be put in and they would need to react in ways not otherwise addressed in canon. Again, this all falls back on the limitations of imagination.

Something like Labyrinth has also expanded its canon in more recent years, but unlike The Lost Boys, the fandom has been embracing the expansions. Between artwork, the manga books, the re-release of the movie tie-in book, comics, everyone's eating it up and it keeps the fandom and the original itself alive.

Then you get fandom, or nerddom, bleeding into the more mainstream world. You have S Jae-Jones' mind-blowingly beautiful Labyrinth-inspired novel, WINTERSONG, coming out this month. Mari Mancusi name and scene-dropped The Lost Boys in a few books of her Blood Coven series. And do I even need to mention the sheer number of homages Supernatural has? Or how many times they've broken the fourth wall? From CSI: Miami to Disney to Supernatural's own fandom's fanfiction, it's everywhere in that show.

I even put it in my own writing. The world of South Fair in my upcoming book, CURSE OF STARS, is based off of the Santa Carla Boardwalk vibe from The Lost Boys, but darker (and no vampires, sorry, it's fantasy, not supernatural). I wanted that hedonistic, fun, culture clash type of atmosphere where people go to forget things. Santa Carla was my foundation for this corner of my world that I built. Had I not mentioned that I used this piece of The Lost Boys for inspiration South Fair wouldn't be recognizable as having anything to do with the movie, but the spirit is there nonetheless.

And now Divergent.

This one's unique for me because everything I've ever written fic for I've absolutely loved. Like total immersion, I actually have a Lost Boys tattoo, love. Divergent . . . not a fan of the books. In fact I've only read Divergent and Insurgent. I know how Allegiant ends, but I have no desire to read it. So . . . why am I writing Divergent fanfic?

One evening my husband and I decided to watch the movie version. It was on HBO (or maybe he bought it, I can't remember) and I tried warning him that I didn't think the book was very good. He liked The Maze Runner (movie) and The Fifth Wave (book) so he wanted to give Divergent a try. Okay, I said.

And we started watching. Then this guy comes into the screen and I did a double take. My first impression was like, "OMG Macklemore's hot. Who is that???"

Let me introduce you to Jai Courtney.

Hello.

And that was it. While my husband's getting laughably indignant over the "army" of this world (he was an Army infantry officer, he was shredding the crap out of the movie, I told you so, dear) I was getting googly-eyed over Eric.

The guy's a total jerk. No two ways about that, but I do have a bad boy complex (in my head movies, not in real life, don't date losers, people, they're only fun in movies and books and sex-filled fanfiction) so while Four is by no means hurt, my eyes are glued to Eric. Turned out I had seen Jai Courtney somewhere before.

Spartacus.

Hello again.

Needless to say I rewatched the first season on Netflix. Repeatedly.

So I actually found the movie mildly entertaining (my husband's spitting indignation aside) and Insurgent was palatable (namely for getting out of Tris's head and cutting back on the sniping between her and Four, god that got OLD). So this idea starts festering in my head. And it stays there for over a year.

To the point where if I don't get this story out of my head it's going to consume me. So I start writing and INSIDIOUS was born. Now Eric has a lot of room to work with. He's a total psychopath in the movie and the book and the book doesn't develop him at all. I even went and bought the Four collection to see if there was anything in there about him since Eric and Four went through initiation together. Nope. Eric is a very static character, super one dimensional, very boring.

#challengeaccepted

Everything about this story I've loved writing. Even though I don't actually like the Divergent world that Veronica Roth created, it's fun to play in and I do inject some of my own opinions about the book into the fic. At the beginning my character, Madeline, thinks to herself about why her society is squatting in the ruins of another world and why they actively reject a functioning portion of society with absolutely zero foresight into passively fostering a rebellion. I mean, c'mon. Anyone who's seen Demolition Man should know that one. Edgar Friendly, anyone?

But once I got that out I dove into the story and into Eric (double entendre totally intended there). And he's actually been really hard (I'm just rolling with it at this point) because he's not a developed character. He's a villain for evil's sake. He doesn't have any motivation, any inspiration; his thought process is largely unknown. So in the beginning I had to get to know him through his interactions with Madeline, because it's her story told from her POV.

Who is Eric?

I actually really like psychology and I like deconstructing people to see how they tick and I'm doing that with Eric. Believe it or not, I'm actually aligning him with a past much like what Tobias had. To me that makes sense. It would explain why he was so antagonistic toward Four (aside from just a competition standpoint) and it allows me to play with the idea of how people handle trauma. Four grew up in an abusive home that he broke away from to become his own person.

Eric, on the other hand, in my little Divergent world, grew up in a similar home, but adapted. He became the person his parents beat him into. He did exactly what he was told and that's how he got the pain to stop. Now I don't make Eric's parents as physically violent as Marcus; I think they were more emotionally abusive, manipulating, controlling. You know, Erudite. Any physical violence Eric endured was merely an afterthought as opposed to someone's first reaction.

Allowing this background to grow and fostering it for Eric has now set me up to take the story in a fantastic and completely unintended direction. The dynamic between Eric and Madeline will end up being completely different from what I originally intended it to be and Madeline will make it part of her mission to separate the mask that Eric wears from who Eric really is, buried deep down inside of him, beaten into submission and barely even there anymore.

I like to destroy my characters and build them back up. Hey, if you're going to go dark, go DARK, right?

And I just want to note, all of my OCs in all of my fics are total author inserts. Every single one of them. According to fanfiction rules that's the biggest no-no a fic writer can ever violate. Eff that noise.

Screw the Mary Sue/Gary Stu litmus tests. Who cares if your character has violet eyes and a fantastic singing voice? As long as the story doesn't serve the character, which is where you get the Sue/Stu issues that everyone hates, what does it matter if the author wants to insert all or a part of themselves into their fic? Who DOESN'T want to live in a world we fan over? THAT'S WHY WE WRITE FANFICTION. Duh. And even in original works, authors inject pieces of themselves into their characters all the time. It's practically impossible not to do that.

So fanfiction it up. Insert yourself into your favorite world (or not so favorite world) and write to your heart's content and don't ever let anyone tell you you can't do that. Of course you can. There's stuff in all of my fandoms that I don't like and aren't my thing. You know what I do? I just don't read it. Simple, right? But if you like something, I can pretty much guarantee someone else will like the same thing. The audience will be there. You just have to find it.

Whether it's Harry Potter or Naruto or Orphan Black or Star Wars or a mash-up of all of these things, write it, own it, live it. Embrace fanfiction and fandom and nerddom. I know it makes me so incredibly happy to write fic and it's just so much fun to do. So whatever your deal, do it. Love your fandom and expand the world you love.

Below is a short little scene I wanted to write from Eric's POV when he and Madeline were younger, before the Choosing Ceremony. Since INSIDIOUS takes place eight years after their Choosing Ceremony and from Madeline's POV, I wanted to give a little insight to where they came from, where Eric came from, and get inside his head a little. Enjoy!

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The collar of my shirt presses just hard enough against my throat that it feels like I'm going to choke, but every time I tug on it my father hits my knuckles with his pen. Of course it can't be just any cheap pen. It's a thing with weight. Heft. And I hiss every time he strikes me with it.

Asshole.

"Stop playing with your collar and I won't have to hit you," he says as he flips through a book, a tumbler of rye whiskey in his hand.

He never could stomach the Amity wine or vodka that all the other parents drink. Too cheap, he says. So he pays a premium for the expensive stuff. It all tastes like trash to me, but I like the way it makes me numb. How I can't feel the world after a couple of shots.

I run my hand through my hair and my father glares at me while my mother sits to his other side and ignores the both of us. I shall not fidget, stress, or show any outward signs of discomfort while Jeanine's here. It would be unbecoming, what with everything my parents have worked for. I just want to get smashed and forget this night ever happened.

But I can't. Because this is my path. My father reminds me every day. He's been grooming me for this for as long as I can remember. You don't get to be this close to Jeanine and not get your choice of missions. Well, my parents' choice of missions. I didn't need them to tell me to transfer to Dauntless. At least there I might be able to breathe. Or maybe not if Jeanine will be hanging herself over my head. At least then I can pretend to define myself instead of everyone else doing it for me.

"What time will everyone be arriving?" my father asks my mother, as if he doesn't have the schedule memorized.

"Six, dear," she replies. "They should be arriving any moment."

As if on cue the doorbell rings and I flinch at the noise. I don't move. I sit with my hands folded in my lap. Not fidgeting. Not stressing. Not showing any discomfort.

"Go answer the door, Eric. Don't leave our guests waiting," my father tells me, annoyance lacing his words.

I don't realize I'm clenching my teeth until pain shoots into my jaw and I release the tension. I push myself out of the uncomfortable chair and hide a wince. The bandage under my sleeve catches the sore, just barely scabbing over. I turn to my father and watch him take a drag off of his hand-rolled cigarette without even acknowledging me. The embers on the tip burn bright as he inhales and the sore on my arms throbs.

The doorbell rings again and I move faster, nearly slipping on the tile floor, not wanting my father to repeat himself. With his words, a pen, a cigarette. He can keep all that to himself.

Cold brass presses into my palm as I turn the knob and come face to face with the smiling Bordonaros. All white teeth and crinkled eyes, they're almost infectious and I can't help but smile back. Mr. and Mrs. Bordonaro walk through the door murmuring pleasantries. Mr. Bordonaro pats me on the shoulder and I nod as he walks by. They and my parents have known each other forever. It's hard to believe that they even like each other, they seem so different. But everyone carries their weight differently. If they've liked each other for this long there must be a reason why. They have to be more alike than they appear.

A throat clears behind me and I forget Madeline is standing there, just inside the door. I do that a lot with her, forget she's there. It's like she makes an effort to blend in. I step out of her way and close the door behind her. She smiles more into the floor than at me and keeps her eyes on her feet.

Our circle of friends brush up against each other every once in a while. We're a small enough group that it's inevitable. But we're not close. At least I know her well enough that I don't have to put on a face.

"You ready for this?" I ask, leaning down to her. She really is tiny. I'm nearly a head taller than her.

I must gauge the distance incorrectly because when she looks back up our cheeks brush and we both jerk away. I immediately stick my hands in my pockets only to rip them back out. Slouchy, my father would call it. So I clasp my hands behind my back instead. Doesn't make the heat in my stomach go away, though.

"Not like I have a choice," she says, pink tingeing her cheeks, and she's as honest with me as I am with her.

Neither of us wants to be here, but at least we can suffer through this together.

The Erudite blue dress she's wearing is short-sleeved and comes to her knees, modest but fitting against her small frame. There isn't much shape to her, but the dress fits her perfectly. Dark hair frames a face that's starkly pale against it, as if she spends all her time inside. She just might. I don't know what her path is, just like I doubt she knows mine. I barely know it.

For how forgetful she makes herself out to be I still notice Madeline every time I see her in a crowd. For all her desire to blend she stands out against everyone else trying to act the part. I'm rarely alone when I'm outside of this hellhole of a house, but Madeline seems to be, even in a group. I wish I could have gotten to know her better. But I doubt that would have made much of a difference.

"Madeline, come in here," her mother calls to her from the sitting room and we walk side by side to the beginning of an awful evening.

"I keep a flask in the bathroom, in the cabinet under the sink," I say out the side of my mouth and I watch her smile in the corner of my eye. She doesn't look up when she speaks.

"Is that so?"

"Just make sure to save me some," I whisper as we get closer to the sitting room.

She does look up to me then and the smile that lights her eyes nearly takes my breath away. There is no trying with her. She just is, this girl in Erudite blue. Like it's these little moments she lives for, whether they're with me or not. If I were being honest with myself, I live for them too. Jokes, flirting, anything to take my mind away from what's in front of me.

"No promises," she whispers back as we enter the sitting room and her mother rushes over to her.

Madeline's lips are still shaped into a smile, but I watch her eyes, and the happy light there fades to dark. It's time to play the part. We all need to play the part. I take up my seat on the chair I was in before and Madeline sits next to me. I watch her move with a reserved grace, holding back. Not being too showy. That would detract from our fearless leader. Can't have that, even when she hasn't arrived yet. She lowers herself into the seat and her dress rides up just high enough to show her thigh and a quick peek of blinding white gauze on her leg.

My heart thuds in my chest, the rush of blood silencing the room around me. The sore on my arm throbs. I watch her hands move like lightning to yank her dress back down and her eyes find mine and we stare at each other for an infinite moment, understanding passing between us like stolen secrets. I know, I try to tell her. How much it hurts. What a parent's face looks like when they're hurting their child. How deep the scars run. I know.

Her eyes drop down and she looks away. I watch her for a half a second, all the time it takes for her to compose herself again, before she looks back out to the room, the emotionless smile on her face. All is right again.

I tug on the sleeve of my injured arm. Feel the fabric catch my own gauze. Feeling it pull against the wound, reminding me that I still feel something, even though I'm starting to forget what that something actually is. The pain anchors me and I compose myself too before I put my mask back on and suffer through the night.

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Thank you for reading, everyone! I hope you liked it! If you did be sure to add INSIDIOUS to your library and give it a look. There's something for everyone: action, fights, espionage, secrets galore, and of course sex! You won't be disappointed.

Be sure to check the giveaways post and enter my giveaway for a chapter dedication in INSIDIOUS and a digital copy of my upcoming book, CURSE OF STARS, in the format of your choice! Check out the blurb for that below and good luck!

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Sabi Perez is the last Diamond Crier, only she doesn't know it. Not until a crazed ruler from another world comes to collect her priceless tears and won't take no for an answer.
Living in New York, Sabi's seen some nasty things, but the lengths to which her captor will go to keep his crown are things found only in the darkest nightmares. Afraid and alone, Sabi finds solace in her cellmate, Anya, and Cabal, a fellow Crier who also has powers, a rare combination that buys his favor from the ruler. Only it's a favor he doesn't want.
In a fit of rage, power erupts out of Sabi, the same power Cabal has, and a spark of hope ignites. Together they may have a chance at escape, something no other Crier has done. Except a ruler hellbent on draining them of every last diamond tear isn't their only hurdle. If they escape they'll be hunted to the ends of the earth, if they survive the trek to safety. If they stay the ruler will leech them dry. Sabi would rather die trying than lie down and die, even if that means running away into even more danger.

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Find me on twitter @dcompbooks, www.facebook.com/dcompbooks, my website www.imaginewrite.net, and follow me here (@dcompbooks) and my author profile on Goodreads!

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P.S. Don't forget to enter the 130+ #WattpadBlockParty Giveaways! Clickable links are at the top of my Wattpad profile! :)

GIVEAWAY LINK ONE:

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