Fansplaining: when a superfan explains the canon of a particular fandom to someone, typically a less obsessed fan, in a manner regarded as condescending or patronizing.

And now: Your fansplainer in Chief, the Fan King, the guy who shares a name with a famous Australian drummer, the indie author... M. Clifford!

https://youtu.be/heAw4z71lvo

Thank you, thank you. Really...it's my honor. Let's take a moment here by the fire. Have one of those fireside chats that make the speaker sound shrewd and charismatic. Join me, won't you?

*Sits on overstuffed leather chair, lights pipe garishly.*

Last night, I got into a debate with another Harry Potter fan about the canon errors in Cursed Child. It must have gone on for two hours.

Yes, I have a problem.

Now, of course, we ended things amicably and are "friends", but I think it served me well to have such a lengthy discussion because, at least for me, it reaffirmed a lot of the frustrations I have with the play. I was forced to defend my position, rather than just throw my thoughts up on Wattpad where everyone basically agrees with me. Secondly, it shined a light on my insufferable know-it-allness, which is not necessarily a quality I want on display in public. The person with whom I was battling, for lack of a better word, ended the argument by pointing out that there were glaring inconsistencies with logic and so-forth in the original seven books. And if the books are considered canon in my eyes, how could I negotiate those irregularities, but not the ones from Cursed Child? Which is a reasonable argument.

Of course, I have a response to that, could even write a dissertation on that, but it doesn't actually matter. The debate reminded me that there are some fans who just wanted more. They wanted a chance to enjoy Harry Potter in a new way again, and they don't appreciate people like me who point out its flaws. Because, to them, Cursed Child is a valuable, emotional experience. It's a few hours of memory that they don't want ruined by some pompous "better-fan", sitting behind a stack of books filled with post-it notes and a list of internet bookmarks on his laptop as long as a football field of every interview JKR ever gave.

Again, I have a problem.

They aren't interested in having someone like me devaluing their feelings or showing them why their experience with the play could've been wrong. They aren't canon obsessed fans, who seek to tell canon-compliant fanfic...obsessively. All that to say, I want to offer something of an apology to anyone out there who feels I may have done that, and I would like to reframe how I could be seen moving forward.

*Reaches for fire poker. Jabs randomly at spitting logs as if he knows what he's doing.*

One of my biggest mistakes as an author is that I'll compose a thought and put it to paper, and yet fail to properly express what I was imagining. I may not even be aware of this because I'm so lost in that next scene or exchange of dialogue.

I don't want the "M. Clifford" character, the guy who is pointing out all the errors, to be misconstrued as someone who is just hating on the play or looking to find something wrong with it. To be completely honest, I desperately wanted this play. Despite all the chaotic events leading up to its release that caused the fandom to fracture, I was so eager. I wanted it to be everything I had imagined, and it let me down. Does that factor into this? Am I allowing my emotions to shape this narrative? I'm sure. How could I not? But I'd like to think that my views are rooted in the canon that has been established in the books, and how the play routinely refutes that canon, and how the characterizations seemed off-kilter to the point of absurdity. I'd like to think this isn't an opinion or bias.

Most importantly, I want it to be known that although I feel let down by JKR for allowing this play to exist in its current form, I am grateful for her. I appreciate that she was willing to give us more story, even if it meant taking on risks. Am I frustrated that she chose Jack Thorne? Confused by her lack of oversight? Do I still have doubts that she played any role in the development of the story? Yes, yes, yes, and much more yes. But it was never a decision of mine to hate the play or look for reasons to discredit its narrative and place within the canon. I've only ever been a fan who feels like he is in touch with the books enough to spot the inconsistencies in new material that someone else may have overlooked. However, I don't want to be seen as that art critic next to you in the gallery who is pointing out all the flaws in this particular Picasso and why, according to the science, it's a poor composition, and according to history, it was actually his greatest failure...when you just think it's a nice painting. Based on someone else's knowledge, which may be limited, my complaints are almost guaranteed to come across like the obtuse nitpicking of a douche bag. And that's... regrettable.

*Stands to admire the items displayed across the mantle without a clue of whose house he's actually in. Because that's not him in the photographs.*

Are there more faults with this play that I want to share? You bet, some really fascinating ones. But only for the sake of fulfilling my initial goal. If I didn't necessarily need to showcase the mistakes of the play in order for my modification to make better sense, I would stop here and do a quick summation of the rest in a single post. No one likes a know-it-all, especially when they come across arrogant and self-righteous. I've decided to start calling it fansplaining. That because I'm this uber-fan, I'm allowed (for some reason) to be holier than thou, casting down my derision from on high.

Really, the way this started out, I just wanted to give you guys an edit of the play. Maybe just tweak it, or fix a couple things that got people upset and confused, but I felt like I needed to begin by providing a basis for why fans would even feel allowed to express their disappointment. Because, from what I saw last night, even daring to question the Queen still amounts to an off-with-his-head moment to some of the fandom. The lights go out, their ears are sealed, and they know nothing but outrage.

*Admires his reflection in the window. What a wonderful sweater that is! Are those silhouettes of white elk running across a field of soft, green wool and geometric designs? He has fashion sense, too. Total package.*

The person I spoke to last night is interested in reading my fanfiction, including the MOD, but for a different reason. Which made me realize that everyone is going to come to this with their own interests. And my "personality" is someone who is often likely to receive hate online. There will always be fans willing to argue with me to the point of belligerence because they simply don't want that "magic" of the play to be broken. They believe in what they first felt so strongly, and they also just want what they want. When they looked at Cursed Child, they saw another perfect component of something which defines them. Then in walks this guy who attempts to undermine that. A guy who seems to be doing it with some agenda, because why would someone be spending their time doing this otherwise? So, I accept that, in the end, some people may not want all the information because it has the potential to show them that there was something wrong. And they are happier not knowing. Because ignorance is bliss.

It's unfortunate that I find myself in the position of the soul-crushing fansplainer, but it's a necessary evil if I want to meet the goal I set out to accomplish with this fan-edit. Is it easier to just... not even care and let it all go? Yeah, I've got enough of a workload these days with FRED AND GEORGE AND THE ELIXIR OF LIFE (and my own non-fanfic books!). But, I still identify with those Potterheads like me who were really let down by the play and knew that there was something amazing we could've gotten instead. Harry's books were so great, and I still want to give them justice. The books are owed that and, in a sense, we are, too. It's not an easy problem to solve, but I feel like if I'm capable of solving it, I should. It's just too bad that, in the process, I may frustrate some people who didn't want to know that Cursed Child wasn't good. When they label me as a hater or a troll, I have to shrug it off and realize that they are choosing to be misled and that insulting me is basically a reflex.

*Accidentally trips on the way back to his leather chair. Pretends your laughter is but the wind rattling the oak trees outside the cabin. Yeah, I guess we're in a cabin. Was that not okay? It's a charming cabin, all right. Stop complaining. Yes, the pipe smoke is a bit much. Open a window, then. It's really hot in here anyway.*

*Looks down at pretentious sweater. Wipes sweat from brow. Blinks slowly. *

We Potterheads are a diverse crowd. Some of us are so enamored with the books and the series creator that we are unwilling to accept that canon is not some made-up term for the omniscience of J.K. Rowling. Canon is short for canonical, meaning that it is the factual account of fictional history. It's not "because JKR says so". But if you can't win an argument against someone who refuses to acknowledge that JKR is human, and therefore not infallible, all you can do is lay out your beliefs for whoever comes along and they can take it or leave it.

Either way, my motivation in doing this was always pure. I only wanted to give something back to people who believe in me, and support me, and encourage me as a writer. And as long as I'm doing right by them, I'm doing right. I can rest easy on that.