Auntie SparkNotes: My Favorite Hobby Is Breaking My Heart

Hello Auntie!

I have an issue that I think might be a bit different, and I haven’t found any problems like this yet. I’ve been doing literary role-plays for years now—since the summer of eighth grade, which was maybe five years ago. Nothing sexual, but they tend to be pretty fluffy and happy. They’re done anonymously over a fake name, and the most we share are our email addresses which are under the same fake name. It’s one of my main hobbies and I absolutely love it, and it helps me to be a better writer when I have an RP partner who challenges me to do my best. It’s my absolute favorite thing to do, and I hope to do it for as long as I can.

Here’s where my problem lies: Sometimes, an RP partner will unexpectedly stop replying. If I’m roleplaying on an instant messaging website where we haven’t exchanged any way of further contact, sometimes they’ll suddenly leave the story and never come back, and there’s no way to contact them again. The story is left undone and my character is left hanging, and it feels like a really bad breakup. It used to not be nearly as bad, but as the years have gone on it actually hurts to have someone leave an roleplay. Just today I had one going for several days (which is small compared to the year, two year long roleplays I used to have) suddenly stop responding after giving frequent, awesome replies many times per day. I’ve never been broken up with, Auntie, but I imagine that this is what it feels like. I’ve double checked my writing grammatically and lengthwise, and I’ve had friends read it to see if it was a good reply, and I don’t think I’m the problem, so it’s really troubling that they just leave it hanging like that.

The thing that comes to mind when I try to figure out how to solve my problem is to just stop, but when I try to take a break I find myself absolutely craving roleplaying. I’ll check my email several times an hour in the hopes someone emailed me, and I’ll get really disappointed when it turns out to be junkmail. I really want to enjoy this super fun hobby without getting this heartbreak every time someone stops replying. Can you give me some advice for this?

With any luck, I’ll be able to do even better than that… if you’ll excuse me for just a moment.

[flings open door to the nerdosphere, grabs megaphone]

HOLY @#$%ING @#$% YOU GUYS, LITERARY ROLEPLAY IS A THING THAT EXISTS!

… Ah, yes. That sound you hear, Sparkler? That’s 99% of the SparkLife readership, galloping at full speed to join the ranks of the roleplaying literati.

Which is to say, man, did you ever send your letter to the right place.

But even though we’ve hopefully recruited enough new blood to keep you in roleplaying heaven for the rest of time, we should still address the problem itself—which is, alas, the unavoidable hazard of having a hobby that you can’t do by yourself. As long as you require another person’s participation to do your thing, you’ll always be at the mercy of the people who just aren’t as into the thing as you are. And in your case, because you’re so incredibly passionate about this, you’ll want to keep in mind that “the people who aren’t as into it” is probably pretty much everyone you’re interacting with.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Every leisure activity on earth needs its diehard enthusiasts, and for literary roleplaying, that’s you! But it’s something to remember, especially when continuing to do the thing you love so much requires cooperation from a fairly niche community with a finite number of members. Roleplaying is vitally important to you, but to the person on the other end of the convo, it may be anything from a hobby to a temporary diversion—one that’s easy to drop when they get bored, or busy, or when the microwave dings to remind them that the potato they put in there twenty minutes ago is ready.

Now, the bad news: If you can’t handle that part of things, and you’re so invested that having someone leave a roleplay is not just a little bit disappointing, but emotionally agonizing? That’s not healthy, sweet pea. And when it’s leading to compulsive behavior on your part (e.g., you try to stop, only to find yourself refreshing your email every ten seconds in search of a roleplaying fix), it’s time for you to make some changes, stop putting all your eggs in this one particular basket, and find some other ways to satisfy the needs you’re trying to meet through roleplaying.

You may have to do some thinking about what needs are, exactly, but I can point to three from your letter. First, it’s a way to indulge your love of literature. Second, it’s a springboard for creating something of your own. And finally, it’s a social outlet—of which you don’t seem to have many.

Hence, a suggestion: See if you can’t find some activities that fulfill you on these three fronts, but not necessarily all three at once. For instance, you might get similar satisfaction from writing and sharing fan-fiction, without having to rely on someone else to play along and provide half the dialogue. Or you might enjoy being part of a bookish community, online or in real life, where you can meet and talk to people who love literature as much as you do, even if you aren’t doing it in character as Anna Karenina (or whomever.) And those are just two ideas; there are infinite possibilities out there.

So get creative, get crazy, and dedicate some time to finding a few things you can do that will connect you with likeminded people, or give you a creative outlet, or scratch your literary itches—in any combination—so that literary roleplaying doesn’t have to fill in all your blanks, all the time. I know you’ll come up with some amazing ideas.

And by the time you do, perhaps Mr. Darcy (or whomever) will have finally finished eating his potato and gotten around to sending you back a witty, charming reply.

Got something to say? Tell us in the comments! And to get advice from Auntie, email her at advice@sparknotes.com.
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