A couple of weeks back, I was talking with an old friend who has, in the past few years, achieved some measure of fame. In the course of our conversation, he admitted to Googling his own name from time to time, just to see what people were writing about him. (Just one of the reasons I am not using his name here.)

"What were people writing?" I asked, and he was vague. I pressed on.

"What is the most unsettling thing you've ever found?" I asked. His eyes scanned the room, possibly for a new conversant, and after a moment, he answered, "Amateur... erotic fan fiction."

"About you?" I asked, and he nodded, seeming either pained or wistful. It's so hard to tell, under insufficient lighting. "This one woman ran a forum," he said, "and people would post different stories."

I wouldn't say that he was reluctant, exactly, to talk about it, but he seemed slightly uncomfortable, which puzzled me. I mean, if I suddenly discovered that there was a site--a forum, no less, dedicated to imagined sexual encounters starring myself, I would talk about it to everyone I met. And have t-shirts bearing the URL printed up. His actual level of enthusiasm was somewhat less than that. Sensing his reticence, I might have dropped the subject, if only it hadn't raised so many questions, including:

Were the stories accurate?

He glossed over that one, to my irritation. Undeterred, I pressed on:

Did you recognize yourself in the text? What, exactly, took place in this amateur erotic fan fiction? Who were the authors? Do any of them know that you've read their works? Did the stories involve lots of three-ways, or was it mostly one-on-one? Did you glean any techniques you could use in real life?

There was a little squirming on his part, which I felt unfairly detracted from his ability to elaborate on the matter. He claimed not to be able to remember the details, but I think we all recognize that as a lie. Anyone who Googles himself as often as I think he does, probably printed out every story he found, and had them bound in leather in a limited, private edition. (I may be projecting, here.)

"I just remember that this one woman spent a lot of time describing what she was wearing, like, every little thing about her outfits in each... scene," he allowed. If I read him right, he seemed slightly resentful about the author's misplaced focus.

"Like what KIND of outfits?" I asked. He claimed not to remember. (Uh-huh.)

"Did the dialogue she wrote for you strike you as naturalistic?" I asked, "Like, 'Oh, Norma, you are so smokin' hott,' or whatever?"

He winced. "Yeah, please don't say 'Norma,' that's my mother's name."

I was getting nowhere, and I was also bitter that he'd never sent me a link to this forum. "I should have sicced you on them," he said, with a mild laugh. (Which is funny, actually, because had he, I would only have made things much, much worse. "Your story was fantastic! Next time, I'd like to see really graphically detailed descriptions of everyone's genitalia. Also: More gayness.") I could not pry any other details out of him. He seemed reluctant to discuss it, maybe a little prudish, which surprised me, considering that the day before, he had clued me in (in a strictly theoretical sense) on the deeply distressing concept of something called a "blumpkin."

In short, I wasn't able to find out any more details about this site dedicated to sexual fantasies about my friend. (And yes, of course I Googled it later, but nothing turned up.)

Having mined that subject for all it was worth, and probably more, I was left wondering about the fan-fiction aspect of fame. As it applied to myself. I do not believe that there exist any erotic fan fiction sites dedicated to me. Honestly: as I am not a public figure, the most likely person to start such a site would be me. So, I guess what I'm saying is: it's only a matter of time before I get bored sitting around watching re-runs of "Murder, She Wrote" and start a new site dedicated to what I imagine are the awesome fictional details of having sex with me.

If your 15 minutes don't come along by themselves, you gotta take the clock by the hands and make it happen.

Star of the day. . .Shawna