So we have a point of intersection. That’s all fine and good, but it doesn’t do much to explain why MC/TF fiction is so appealing–and I think it does have wide appeal, to be honest, not that you could get many people to admit it in polite company. However, considering the multitude of sites out there supporting the fetish, both old and new, I don’t think it’s too far fetched of a claim. But where does the appeal come from? This is important to grasp, because without an understanding of what people are wanting from this genre, you won’t be able to deliver a satisfying story.
At the risk of oversimplifying a complex genre, there are two camps of people who are drawn to MC/TF fiction–those who fantasize about changing themselves, and those who fantasize about changing others, or what I’ll term the “Me” readers and the “Them” readers. While both of these camps are drawn to the same genre, I think both are drawn here for entirely different reasons–and this can lead to some curious interactions as far as communities go here on the interwebs.
First, the “Me” readers. This camp is drawn to MC/TF because they want to change themselves–either bodily or mentally–generally a bit of both. What kind of transformation they want could be anything: fatter, muscular, twink, bear, animal, inanimate, TG, etc. However, this reflects, at it’s core, a strong disconnect between who a person is, and who that person wants to be. At some level, we all have this insecurity–no one is perfectly happy with their persona and body. The opportunity of this genre to let individuals become someone else–someone they want to be more–is a powerful force, and one which is easily eroticized. This isn’t to say that “Me” readers are morose self-loathers–many simply like the fantasy of being someone radically different from themselves. There’s a sense of freedom from one’s past and destiny inherent in this which appeals to many caught up in the wheels of societal pressure.
On the other hand are the “Them” readers, who desire to see others change. Much of the motive here (and again I oversimplify) is revenge and Contrapasso. The individuals being changed are generally those who have done the main character wrong–and he is altering them to suit his ideas of who they ought to be, either for that individual’s own pleasure, or because it’s who the perpetrator “deserves” to become. My writing generally falls into this camp, though I tend to push the drive in a different direction, towards broad societal transformations which leave behind new social structures in their wake (see my City of Bears, especially the second series), but the revenge fantasy is a powerful impetus in many other stories, both mine and others. Again, this isn’t to call people vindictive and resentful, but who doesn’t have a list of people in their head they’d like to punish? And coming from a repressed minority, the fantasy of coming into great power and forcing bullies to become what they hate most is probably common enough in gay men.
Now, why does any of this matter? First, it means that, no matter what story you write, someone is going to hate it, and for good reason, but especially if you write “Them” stories. Here’s why: “Them” stories require making transformations into something negative, because it’s a punishment. However, people who like “Me” stories don’t see that transformation as negative–and often feel a bit put off by the story’s tone. On the other hand, if you write a “Me” story, “Them” readers are probably going to find it simplistic, unsatisfying, and just too gosh-darn positive in it’s outlook. Can you please everyone? Probably not–I’ve given up trying.
Second, what kind of story you’re writing tends to determine in small ways how that story will be written. Writing a “Me” story? It’ll feel most natural, and get better reviews, if it’s in the first person, and sex isn’t generally required (though often enjoyed), but there had better be a detailed transformation. Writing a “Them” story? Most are in third person, the TF will be skimpy, but there will be plenty of sex, most of it forceful, humiliating and rarely enjoyed willfully. Knowing how these camps respond to stories let’s you write them in ways which are tailored to their expectations, and can better satisfy their desires, without them really noticing what you’re doing.
Now, some caveats. There are people who float in the space between camps–the most common being those who want to be TF’d into something generally seen as negative. In some ways, these people are the easiest to please, because they generally identify with the villains of “Them” stories. In the same way, some stories can attempt to, and in some cases succeed at, satisfying both camps, though it’s a lot harder than it seems. The obvious and common trope is the omnipotent narrator who transforms himself into his ideal before punishing those who wronged him–this is all fine and good, but good luck pulling it off without alienating either, or both, camp in the end. Personally, I’m more interested in pulling the two camps together in a different way–“Them” transformations which, in the end, reveal to the TF’d character a form which they can be happier in than the one they started with. This isn’t easier by any means, but more interesting in terms of story and character development. In the end, every writer has to negotiate these camps on their own–but ignore them at your own peril.
Bracken's Corner 