Reveals the systematic marginalization of women within pop culture fan communities When Ghostbusters returned to the screen in 2016, some male fans of the original film boycotted the all-female adaptation of the cult classic, turning to Twitter to express their disapproval and making it clear that they considered the film’s “real” fans to be white, straight men. While extreme, these responses are far from unusual, with similar uproars around the female protagonists of the new Star Wars films to full-fledged geek culture wars and harassment campaigns, as exemplified by the #GamerGate controversy that began in 2014. Over the past decade, fan and geek culture has moved from the margins to the mainstream as fans have become tastemakers and promotional partners, with fan art transformed into official merchandise and fan fiction launching new franchises. But this shift has left some people behind. Suzanne Scott points to the ways in which the “men’s rights” movement and antifeminist pushback against “social justice warriors” connect to new mainstream fandom, where female casting in geek-nostalgia reboots is vilified and historically feminized forms of fan engagement—like cosplay and fan fiction—are treated as less worthy than male-dominant expressions of fandom like collection, possession, and cataloguing. While this gender bias harkens back to the origins of fandom itself, Fake Geek Girls contends that the current view of women in fandom as either inauthentic masqueraders or unwelcome interlopers has been tacitly endorsed by Hollywood franchises and the viewer demographics they selectively champion. It offers a view into the inner workings of how digital fan culture converges with old media and its biases in new and novel ways.

Reveals the systematic marginalization of women within pop culture fan communities When Ghostbusters returned to the screen in 2016, some male fans of the original film boycotted the all-female adaptation of the cult classic, turning to Twitter to express their disapproval and making it clear that they considered the film’s “real” fans to be white, straight men. While extreme, these responses are far from unusual, with similar uproars around the female protagonists of the new Star Wars films to full-fledged geek culture wars and harassment campaigns, as exemplified by the #GamerGate controversy that began in 2014. Over the past decade, fan and geek culture has moved from the margins to the mainstream as fans have become tastemakers and promotional partners, with fan art transformed into official merchandise and fan fiction launching new franchises. But this shift has left some people behind. Suzanne Scott points to the ways in which the “men’s rights” movement and antifeminist pushback against “social justice warriors” connect to new mainstream fandom, where female casting in geek-nostalgia reboots is vilified and historically feminized forms of fan engagement—like cosplay and fan fiction—are treated as less worthy than male-dominant expressions of fandom like collection, possession, and cataloguing. While this gender bias harkens back to the origins of fandom itself, Fake Geek Girls contends that the current view of women in fandom as either inauthentic masqueraders or unwelcome interlopers has been tacitly endorsed by Hollywood franchises and the viewer demographics they selectively champion. It offers a view into the inner workings of how digital fan culture converges with old media and its biases in new and novel ways.

This book examines changing representations of masculinity in geek media, during a time of transition in which “geek” has not only gone mainstream but also become a more contested space than ever, with continual clashes such as Gamergate, the Rabid and Sad Puppies’ attacks on the Hugo Awards, and battles at conventions over “fake geek girls.” Anastasia Salter and Bridget Blodgett critique both gendered depictions of geeks, including shows like Chuck and The Big Bang Theory, and aspirational geek heroes, ranging from the Winchester brothers of Supernatural to BBC’s Sherlock and the varied superheroes of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Through this analysis, the authors argue that toxic masculinity is deeply embedded in geek culture, and that the identity of geek as victimized other must be redefined before geek culture and media can ever become an inclusive space.

In 2016, a female videogame programmer and a female journalist were harassed viciously by anonymous male online users in what became known as GamerGate. Male gamers threatened to rape and kill both women, and the news soon made international headlines, exposing the level of abuse that many women and minorities face when participating in the predominantly male online culture. Gaming Masculinity explains how the term “gamer” has been constructed in the popular imagination by a core group of male online users in an attempt to shore up an embattled form of geeky masculinity. This latest form of toxicity comes at a moment of upheaval in gaming culture, as women, people of color, and LGBTQ individuals demand broader access and representation online. Paying close attention to the online practices of trolling and making memes, author Megan Condis demonstrates that, despite the supposedly disembodied nature of life online, performances of masculinity are still afforded privileged status in gamer culture. Even worse, she finds that these competing discourses are not just relegated to the gaming world but are creating rifts within the culture at large, as witnessed by the direct links between the GamerGate movement and the recent rise of the alt-right during the last presidential election. Condis asks what this moment can teach us about the performative, collaborative, and sometimes combative ways that American culture enacts race, gender, and sexuality. She concludes by encouraging designers and those who work in the tech industry to think about how their work might have, purposefully or not, been developed in ways that are marked by gender.

This ultimate handbook for ladies living the nerdy life is a fun and feminist take on the often male-dominated world of geekdom. Fandom, feminism, cosplay, cons, books, memes, podcasts, vlogs, OTPs and RPGs and MMOs and more—it’s never been a better time to be a girl geek. With delightful illustrations and an unabashed love for all the in(ternet)s and outs of geek culture, this book is packed with tips, playthroughs, and cheat codes, including: • How to make nerdy friends • How to rock awesome cosplay • How to write fanfic with feels • How to defeat internet trolls • How to attend your first con And more! Plus insightful interviews with fangirl faves, like Jane Espenson, Erin Morgenstern, Kate Beaton, Ashley Eckstein, Laura Vandervoort, Beth Revis, Kate Leth, and many others.

We fall in love every day, with others, with ideas, with ourselves. Stories of love excite us and baffle us. This volume is about love and the networked self. It focuses on how love forms, grows, or dissolves. Chapters address how relationships of love develop, are sustained or broken up through technologies of expression and connection. Authors explore how technologies reproduce, reorganize, or reimagine our dominant rituals of love. Contributors also address what our experiences with love teach us about ourselves, others, and the art of living. Every love story has a beginning and an end. Technology does not give love the kiss of eternity; but it can afford love new meaning.

A lighthearted celebration of the contributions of women in male-dominated arenas features essays on a range of topics, from computer technology and Dungeons and Dragons to comic books and cyberlaw, in an anthology that includes pieces by such contributors as Ellen Spertus, Wendy Seltzer, and Devin Grayson. Original.