PERIPHERAL FANDOM OF THE BBC'S SHERLOCK

My appreciation for the BBC's Sherlock stands in the periphery rather than amidst content and execution. I have seen one, perhaps as much as two, episodes. I enjoyed what I saw, hope to see more in the future, but there are only twenty-four fleeting hours in a commitment crowded day. My fandom of Sherlock has nothing to do with the various aspects of quality: writing, acting, or production. Appreciation originated in the affect of the show, much of which Benedict Cumberbatch is responsible for creating.

The saga begins with Star Trek Into Darkness. My oldest daughter was captivated by Khan Noonian Singh's charisma. Upon leaving the theater, she engaged in a seek and consume mission of every show and movie Cumberbatch has appeared in. She loves Sherlock above all others. Her passion for the show inspired a five mile round trip walk to search out Sir Arthur Conan Doyle titles. She lugged home a thick volume of collected Sherlock Holmes works. I'm talking a huge book! This thing can be used as a stepping stool, that's how huge we are talking. And she was excited to read despite knowing severe muscle fatigue from holding that monstrosity was in her future. These are the moments I live for!

I know my daughter engages in a poop load of reading. She tackles fan fiction, blogs, and downloads graphic novels. She is constantly reading, and I understand the nature of reading material has made a pivotal shift in the years since my summer vacations passed in the pages of westerns and science fiction novels. What excites me is this: she went out of her way to find a book that interested her. I am excited because she once more discovered reading is exciting, and not merely a way to pass the time. (The wonderful beauty of this discovery is a person makes it each time a well written book is opened.)

Peter Jackson had the same impact on her. One of my copies of the Hobbit (the novel) was stolen after she watched the first installment of the needlessly long series. She loved the movie despite the Great Goblin's scrotum beard (as the people at Hishe aptly label the larger than life boil).

We saw a similar phenomenon on a massive scale with J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, and later with Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games. (With the above stories, impressive book sales drove ticket sales, which in turn pushed book sales higher. Synergy at its best!) I love witnessing these moments. These periods are when the imagination has been engaged. Dreaming comes forth, and creativity abounds whether in fan art and fiction or the fan finding the inspiration to embark on a dream of her own. Perhaps that person was dreaming for years of writing the story she had been toying with in the privacy of her thoughts. And perhaps that dream will bring forth the next, great franchise. Or nothing will happen beyond entertainment, and that is fine too so long as the reader enjoyed the adventure.

(Unfortunately, the sweeping popularity of a novel is an indiscriminate beast as Twilight spawned a similar run on book outlets. Though tempting, Stephenie Meyer's . . . paper products are no reason to give up on humanity.)

I am a fan of some movies for no other reason than their byproduct of engendering curiosity in the printed form of the story. Sherlock nicely fits into this inspiring category.

Here is a link for the curious on giant sized book sales.