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Lifted from Powells.com where I just posted it, here is my review of Allyson Beatrice's book Will the Vampire People Please Leave the Lobby?. Full disclosure here: Allyson is my friend, and I am a part of one of the main communities that she writes about in the book. But honestly, I'd say the same things even if none of that were true.
I'll also be posting this review on amazon.com as soon as the book becomes officially available there.
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The title is clever and the cover is cute, but how relevant or entertaining could stories about "cult fandom" really be to the average reader?
Turns out, very.
Not only is Vampire People laugh-out-loud funny, it is written with style, grace, and brutal honesty. Although the book is centered on Beatrice's life online as influenced by the cult classic Buffy the Vampire Slayer, this is not a fan book. In fact, you will find few references to the show itself beyond a loving acknowledgment of how fun it was to watch and a gentle puzzlement about the level of fanaticism some people still have for it.
The first chapter explores Beatrice's relationship with the Jossverse, but--far more importantly--explains how Buffy and other Jossverse shows brought a group of people together online that became a close-knit community capable of enormous generosity and random acts of kindness. Some chapters explore nuances of life online (such as how communities deal with "trolls" or with impostors posting about fictional personal tragedy in order to garner attention), and other chapters focus squarely on the specific people who have become Beatrice's family. Especially touching are the chapters about a wedding between two of Beatrice's friends when gay marriage was briefly legal in California and the chapter about how one online community and writer Tim Minear fully funded a cross-country visit to America for a beloved Israeli member. Other chapters explore the oddities of Beatrice's involvement in this particular fandom, including how she was tasked with finding a home for Joss Whedon's cat and how she ended up running a campaign to save a Jossverse show that she didn't particularly like.
Also notable is the incisive chapter "The Internet Wants Your Daughters" about the myth that everyone online is an axe-murderer or a pedophile. Without dismissing the fact that real dangers can lurk on the Internet, Beatrice explodes these myths and offers real, practical advice about how parents can protect their children without overreacting. It is one of the most honest essays about kids and the Internet out there.
This book is definitely intended for adult audiences and doesn't pull any punches: be prepared to laugh and feel warm and fuzzy, but also to cringe in painful recognition. You should also be prepared to be incapable of putting it down once you start reading. I blew through the book in three hours and wanted more. Pick up a copy this summer--I promise you'll find something to laugh at and something to relate to even if you would never dream of talking vampires with strangers.
I'll also be posting this review on amazon.com as soon as the book becomes officially available there.
---
The title is clever and the cover is cute, but how relevant or entertaining could stories about "cult fandom" really be to the average reader?
Turns out, very.
Not only is Vampire People laugh-out-loud funny, it is written with style, grace, and brutal honesty. Although the book is centered on Beatrice's life online as influenced by the cult classic Buffy the Vampire Slayer, this is not a fan book. In fact, you will find few references to the show itself beyond a loving acknowledgment of how fun it was to watch and a gentle puzzlement about the level of fanaticism some people still have for it.
The first chapter explores Beatrice's relationship with the Jossverse, but--far more importantly--explains how Buffy and other Jossverse shows brought a group of people together online that became a close-knit community capable of enormous generosity and random acts of kindness. Some chapters explore nuances of life online (such as how communities deal with "trolls" or with impostors posting about fictional personal tragedy in order to garner attention), and other chapters focus squarely on the specific people who have become Beatrice's family. Especially touching are the chapters about a wedding between two of Beatrice's friends when gay marriage was briefly legal in California and the chapter about how one online community and writer Tim Minear fully funded a cross-country visit to America for a beloved Israeli member. Other chapters explore the oddities of Beatrice's involvement in this particular fandom, including how she was tasked with finding a home for Joss Whedon's cat and how she ended up running a campaign to save a Jossverse show that she didn't particularly like.
Also notable is the incisive chapter "The Internet Wants Your Daughters" about the myth that everyone online is an axe-murderer or a pedophile. Without dismissing the fact that real dangers can lurk on the Internet, Beatrice explodes these myths and offers real, practical advice about how parents can protect their children without overreacting. It is one of the most honest essays about kids and the Internet out there.
This book is definitely intended for adult audiences and doesn't pull any punches: be prepared to laugh and feel warm and fuzzy, but also to cringe in painful recognition. You should also be prepared to be incapable of putting it down once you start reading. I blew through the book in three hours and wanted more. Pick up a copy this summer--I promise you'll find something to laugh at and something to relate to even if you would never dream of talking vampires with strangers.
