A Conversation With M: Fandom Criticism, Debacles and Modern Insights on Fanzines - Part 1 (2025)

(The front cover of vol. 2 of Zaku, also known as Zaku II, a fan club zine published real time during 0079's airtime during the latter half. This zine in particular features valuable interviews and 1st hand accounts from fans in proximity to Sunrise, Studio II and Yoshiyuki Tomino - personal collection thanks to M.) 

I've been in a bit of a hurry as of late, though for no particular reason. Due to some unique circumstances, I have been eating through tons and tons of listings searching for more pieces for the archive. One never really knows what they might find in the sea of auction sites and unassuming listings - I've been taking massive deep dives in my restlessness to secure texts, from private Discord groups, near obsolete forums and niche shopping sites to find an array of treasures. 

Where one lists a rare FC zine as a 'subculture magazine' on a junk shop's website to an individual who simply pawns off entire collections on Book Off, one really can't help but be in a hurry to seal the deal. 

However, once I slowed down, the right opportunity presented itself in a new light. 

I hadn't heard from M in over 6 months or so. Our conversations and contact had gone radio silent, and through a mix of cryptic messages and unrelated chatter, we simply hadn't spoken. M had once mentioned that, due to some interest in his collection among others who'd been contacting him to part with specific items, he intended to clean out his upstairs office. There were also a few storage units he owned where he was faced with the task of sifting through years worth of materials. 

As it was, M had been busier than ever apparently, and out of a need to not be incredibly imposing, I gave him the time and space. This process, he said, wouldn't be an overnight feat, and he feared that some of the materials in question would be a bit trashed.

M lives with most of his important pieces with his wife, a fellow Otaku he met while working in the animation industry. During my past strip to Hyogo in 2024, I bore witness to a life well lived and curated, from hand written correspondence between M and Osamu Tezuka to specialty drawings that would easily fetch thousands if they hit the auction block. It goes without saying that I'm more than honored to have the privilege in browsing M's collection, however, this new prospect wavered between both high stress and a quiet lull. It wouldn't be until the end of February that M reached back out over Discord. The platform he claims is a bit confusing, but once we were able to sync correctly with our equally busy schedules in mind, our video call went seamless. 

M went through an entire box of self curated pieces he figured I'd be interested in. Between more Osamu Tezuka FC booklets to more ravenously illustrated hentai, M produced four volumes of a Gundam FC zine titled Zaku, or Zaku II as I would later come to find out. Zaku, as M stated, probably hadn't been seen in the public eye in over 40 years. 

"It was shown in OUT magazine, that I do remember. Many of these (magazines) would show popular books from fan groups depending on what was sent to the offices. A club member, usually the treasurer, would send a copy and if you were featured, the club membership numbers would go up. That was a part of how some networked."  

(Several FC journals published in vol. 3 (March) of  OUT, 1978 / 昭和 53 年. Mother Town, one of the zines I discussed here , is mentioned alongside several Leiji Matsumoto SF themed texts. Leiji's works dominated the sphere of SF publishing thanks to the boom of Space Battleship Yamato. By 1979, Mobile Suit Gundam would take the metaphorical reigns and sway of influence. ) 

Looking at the volumes in question, I knew I had to have them - I have an affinity for yellowed, rusty covers as is and near chlorine-esque scent of old paper. However, the content of these books would prove to be exceptionally exciting. We looked at them together over call, and with M's easy hands, he would show me interesting pages. Our conversations were energetic yet thoughtful in the mind of fandom culture in the 21st century. Long ago, we spoke about the advent of the internet and how sharing information has connected so many strangers as is. What did he feel, however, about the nature of gatekeeping? Was this a phenomenon during his time organizing at Comiket or outside of this sphere of influence? I recorded our conversation and transcribed part of it* in an interview format with M's permission.:

C: Do you think that fandom spaces allow for backbiting and competition?

M: The internet has changed everything, there's no question about it. I don't spend time in certain spaces because I'm simply not attune to this backbiting you're talking about. I think it would be safe to say that, but if I think about long ago, I didn't personally experience it head on. 

C: So did others? Can you share some stories if possible?

M: There were several camps of individuals who produced these works (fanzines), and with that there were certain personalities who worked well with others. I refuse to say that it was like today, it just wasn't. Many of these individuals were young adults and were genuinely seeking a sense of connection. This was before the internet, mind you.

C: Of course.

M: Anime was seen as a child's past time. You woke up in the morning with your children before sending them off to school to watch their favorite shows. Kids played as their favorite characters in parks, but there was this bustling emotion that had always been there. Osamu (Tezuka) had fans who were my father's age, the age of my uncles, for instance. Junior High students were the major participants in the scene, and some saw it as a mature foray to discuss their favorite things. Things certainly felt different. 

C: Young people have a unique way of looking at things even now, but something I see in a lot of online spaces is a proclivity for self censoring and what I would like to call finger wagging. 

M: Finger wagging?

C: Scolding others for liking specific things, mainly on it being problematic or controversial. 

M: I see. 

C: Do you remember anyone being quick to scold others or alienate them based on their interests with fan club activities. 

M: On a personal level, no. Many of the individuals I knew and still remain in contact with til this day were kind hearted and hardworking. There was a goal in mind and they followed through with it the best they could. This goal specifically was sharing ideas and being creative. This was an important time in formulating ideas, but it would be silly to say that there wasn't someone behaving like this. 

C: As someone who has spent decades both inside the anime industry and in collector circles as a collector, I’d love to hear your thoughts on how fandom culture has changed from the Showa era to now. Let’s start back with this: How would you describe these fandoms in the 1970s and 80s compared to now?

M: It certainly wasn't  territorial. Many were open to helping one another when they could and I participated in many joint magazines (collaboration books usually between mangaka to other groups). There was a positivity in being deeply obsessive. Fans of any particular series were not few, but they were intense.

 

(The Anime - LICK IT Collection 2 (1983), published by the doujin circle REX, is such an example of a joint magazine, or a collaborative effort between authors and illustrators. This would be the 2nd hentai and yaoi themed fanzine by the circle. Members such as Mari Hibiki, Ogata Satomi and JET, who actively participated in subculture magazines and had direct connections to celebrated mangaka such as Rumiko Takahashi, were behind this work. Personal collection.)    

C: As Otaku, I can imagine.

M: Otaku depended on one another whether they liked it or not. You didn't have many magazines dedicated to one specific thing when it came to your general like (interests). Omnivorous behavior is the best way I can describe it. Unlike today, where you can go online and find a thousand people who share your niche interest in seconds, back then, discovering another fan in your immediate circle of friends at school who craved as much as you did might be lost. I had several friends who were pen pals for years because of this. You had to work for it—doujinshi conventions, mailed-out newsletters, and local clubs. If you found someone who liked the same series as you, it was exhilarating. 

C: So once again, I'd really like to know about possibilities of scolding.

M: I wouldn't consider it scolding, but depending on who you dealt with, infighting was constant.

C: What kind of infighting are we talking about?

M: Petty feuds. Arguments over character interpretations, which fanzine had the most "authentic" information, even disputes over choices in sharing setting documents. Who spoke to who? Did you go to the studio after recording? What did x say to y? They stole my idea!

C: This sort of thing happens in droves today.

M: If a group of fans, for instance, decided a certain anime was theirs, there would be a tight lip.

C: I've noted this to some extent with a series of "members only" journals I purchased from Mandarake called Lectori Salutem, by the Perfective Latent Organization. Have you heard of them?

M: It rings a bell, but there were many like it if you mean a members only approach. Some of the most amateur of publications could be this tight lipped about their activities. I don't always believe it was done out of pretentiousness. (I mean) to say that there were exclusionary networks, especially in the 70s when some things were still being whispered rather than embraced. Some groups refused to acknowledge the existence of other groups if they thought their art or ideas were "incorrect." A lot of magazines also received their brunt of angry mail, as did studios.

C: I've heard of this, especially when say Garma Zabi died in Mobile Suit Gundam. 

M: (laughs) yes, but also with Grendizer or Combattler V. I remember a discussion about Nagahama (Tadao Nagahama) when Garuda died. It was tragic and purposefully done, but Garuda had fans who could not let it stand. As much as Nagahama was loved, he received a lot of hate mail. So it didn't depend on just that (fans vs fans), it also depended on the studio's choices. Being vocal isn't a bad thing. 

(The cover for Lectori Salutem J, published in early 1983, by the member's only circle Perfective Latent Organization, or the P.L.O's Lectori Salutem label. Not sold at events such as Comiket, the P.L.O's imprint was enjoyed by college age and working class Fujoshi and queer men vs high school age readership. Many of these journals contain themes such as rape, sexual abuse and yaoi of Mecha characters from the late 70s and early 80s. Personal collection.)

C: So did any "shipping wars" we see online today had analog predecessors? Are you familiar with that?

M: No I'm not, sorry.

C: Its my terminology, but pairings between characters. For instance, characters that the director has placed together that are a romantic interest sometimes get placed with other characters in doujinshi works. Was there infighting about this? Are you familiar? 

M: Absolutely. It just wasn’t called that yet. Fujoshi debates over which pairing was “correct” got heated, sometimes literally— There was an issue at Comiket. This would have been around 1979 or 1980. A young woman complained that another group's books should have been stolen or burned out of spite. Some people boycotted rival circles, though usually not outwardly. Others deliberately spread misinformation about upcoming anime productions to undermine their perceived rivals. If Twitter existed in 1982, it would have been a unique war zone for any bad players. Many people like this were frowned upon. I didn't like it then and I don't like this now.

C: That level of intensity is fascinating. Do you think the shift to digital has made things better or worse?

M: Both. It’s easier to access material now, which is good— no more waiting weeks for a VHS copy to arrive from a friend-of-a-friend. I am nostalgic all the time, however compared to now, it was difficult in its very own way. Young men and women made it work, however. But that same ease has also made fandom more disposable. Back then, many lived and breathed it as Otaku. You spent time hunting down staff for a quick interview. You knew where to call to arrange a meeting, where to have lunch, you manually traced animation frames to study the art. Now, people move on in days. The sense of permanence is gone.

C: And yet, you know, the fandom still finds ways to fight. What do you mean by permanence?

M: Nothing is permanent, people will move on. I feel it happened much more naturally. Some animation studios made some awful shows that no one cared about. They're forgotten today for a very specific reason. Some are lost and haven't been found or at least fully. I remember you speaking to me about Osper (Fight! Osper) and that you found with your collaborator a fan from 1978 talking about it. That was (the show) the 60s.

C: Yes, that happened! I do feel studios now push out several anime and even manga that I can't keep up with. It doesn't have the same appeal.

M: Animators are treated even more poorly than they were at times before. 

C: And yet, it persist. Fandom fighting is inevitable. 

M: Of course. It’s human nature. The difference is that before, these fights happened in letters and small, private circles. Now they happen in real-time, in front of the whole world. What used to be a niche dispute now turns into a public scandal with thousands of strangers taking sides.

C: Given your background in the industry, do you think modern anime creators are aware of how fandom culture used to be?

M: It depends on the individual, I can't speak for them. I'm not an animator, but I have worked in the industry. I have longtime friends who were and still are. Studios now market directly to online audiences, chasing trends instead of cultivating deep, long-term engagement. This isn't all of everything, however, and its not sensitive to what is happening in the industry to say so. In the 70s and 80s, creators sometimes engaged with fan communities, but it was no cautious dance.

C: These books you've given me have some unique bylines in them that often go along the way of "in collaboration with" or "with participation from" specific voice actors or directors. I think that language is very indicative of that level of participation. I often tell people how much Makio Inoue funded his own fan club and their activities. To mention Tadao once more, I had a conversation with the former treasurer of the Brave Raideen Fanclub who worked on Mutron. Tadao Nagahama and several voice actors, especially Akira Kamiya, funded screenings and prize events.

M: They knew where to give credit. Without fans, they would have no sales or watchers. Fans gave fiction the life it knew.

 

(The official program pamphlet for the Raideen Fan Club (勇者ライディーン FC) & Tadao Nagahama's all day New Years Day celebration that was held at Ryogoku Public Hall (両国公会堂/ Sumida Ward, Tokyo) on January 7, 1978. Yukinaga Shiraishi (白石幸長樣), Yuji Mitsuya (三ツ矢 雄二), Shojo Iizuka (飯塚 昭三), Akira Kamiya (神谷明樣) and Osamu Ichikawa (市川治樣) not only attended, but left heartfelt New Years messages to all fans who came out and showed their support, showing their involvement with FC activities. Personal collection, acquired from M.)

C: Now, some creators have to navigate social media landmines daily. If they make one wrong comment, they’re instantly dogpiled.

M: It’s exhausting, and I don’t blame those who disengage entirely.

C: So would you say something was lost in the transition? Is some dogpiling warranted?

M: Something was gained, something was lost. Fans today have more access to creators, but less intimacy with the media itself. This is my personal opinion.

C: Can you expound on that?

M: The sheer effort it took to be a fan back then meant the dedication ran deeper, at least for me. Even with the ease of access, I will always still be a fan of Tezuka. Fandom wasn’t just entertainment then; it was many of our identities. That’s rarer now in how its demonstrated as it wears a new face. Some will find this pretentious, but its not a sense of keeping anyone out. I'd never wish for this. 

C: Gatekeeping.

M: Yes, there is no need for me to personally do such a thing. Its amazing anyone cares about these old topics anymore.

C: With gatekeeping in mind, maybe, let’s talk about accessibility. You mentioned how hard it was to get access to specific media back then. How did that scarcity shape fandom behavior?

M: Not everything was scarce. Settei (setting documents), proper ones used in production, were very much gatekept, but not by fans. Getting settei from Toei was a nightmare. They only published what they wanted to for promotional use in certain magazines or books, but this was mainly done for a variety of reasons.

C: Speaking with my friend Hayami, he said it was to keep others from stealing their ideas. Is this true?

M: I can't comment directly on that, but I feel it had a lot to do with controlling image. Sunrise published settei books and sold them as did other studios, but I remember getting anything from Toei was a bit different. Gaiking had several dedicated fans who made certain things easier, I do remember that. There were several good artists and their drawings were very informed by what they had (available).

("Please record the concert "SLAP STICK". Please send it to Yuko Kikuchi." and "Please record episodes 41 and 42 of Rai (Raideen)" as seen in the classifieds and requests section of vol. 10 of the Brave Raideen FC's Muton, published October of 1978. Fans main access to correspondence, sales and even friendship depended on fanzines. Many members ask for settei, copies of cels and even pen pals. Personal collection, previously acquired from M.)

C: Did certain fans hoard information. Did they keep things to themselves?

M: Of course.

C: How so?

M: If you were one of the few people who had access to other means of gathering information, a high-quality cel or autograph, to some, that gave you status among others. Some fans hoarded information, using it as leverage to gatekeep others. It was looked down on, at least by me. 

C: I wondered if any older Fujoshi gatekept information from younger female fans.

M: I would not be surprised. It wouldn't matter if they did or not. If you were a member of a club, there was a sense of dedication. I was very specific with my participation (in fan clubs). Correspondence could be far and in between.

C: What do you feel about the current wave of amateur historians?

M: I don't know many, but those I do know are doing well. Anime, of course, should first be a hobby. I do not care for overly analytical types. I'm not sure if that makes sense.

C: Of course.

M: Participating with your peers is important to me.

C: What do you feel about the scarcity of materials? I have a few books where many young fans beg and plead for tape recordings and xeroxes of settei from others. Nowadays, some people wouldn't dream of asking for help, especially in circles I've been a part of.

M: That sounds harmful.

C: Its true!

M: Scarcity is only made by others, depending on the situation. Apparently its the same with fossil fuel, allegedly. Some say its infinite, while petrol companies claim its running out. People make up things all the time. But the scarcity also made fans more willing to collaborate—trading tapes, photocopying, asking for help, sharing insights. I met some of the kindest individuals through meeting up and passing around Settei or older volumes of books. Older mingled with younger, depending on the avenue.

C: Whereas now, everything is online.

M: Right, but not everything is. I understand what is being done, however, but that doesn’t necessarily mean people engage more deeply. The ease of access means people can skim, pick up the basics, and move on. Before, and I speak on Westerners, if you wanted to understand a series, you had to actively search, sometimes even learn Japanese. You had to care. That struggle created lifelong fans. Today, fans are just as passionate, but they cycle through interests faster because there’s always something new to chase.

(I awkwardly tried to read OUT standing up at a bookstore. However, when I opened the "SF Movie Theater" page, my reason was finally broken by my stupidity, and I couldn't contain myself and laughed out loud... You can imagine what happened after that, right? Ah, how embarrassing! Lesson learned: "Buying OUT is a momentary shame, but reading OUT standing up is a lifelong shame." - A fan speaks on their dedication to OUT in the wake of being an Otaku in the late 1970s. From the March 1978 issue of OUT, vol. 3. Personal collection.) 

C: Let’s talk about fanzines. They were a huge part of your experience within the 70s and 80s. Lately I get a little flack over buying them. 

M: How so?

C: I'd rather not say, but it informs by question for you. Where do you see the future for their preservation? Who gets to say who does what?  

M: This is a bit nonsensical. I can't imagine living like that.

C: But it happens, so I'd like to hear your point of view if possible.

M: Fanzines were and continue to be the lifeblood (of the community). Some were small, just a few people exchanging photocopied pages, while others became full-fledged organizations. Seriously, the production quality could be very impressive. Rag House was such a group. I was friends with Ogata Satomi until he passed away. I can never replace those friendships, and I believe people should rely on one another. There was real prestige in being a respected fanzine writer. If you were known for good analysis, exclusive information, or high-quality art, people sought you out. But like I said before, that also meant rivalries. Some fanzines had animosity with each other, sometimes refusing to acknowledge a so-called competitor even existed. In extreme cases, they’d write entire essays refuting another group’s ideals, mainly in some SF circles. These are not the same in regards to parody doujinshi.

C: That sounds like the modern “callout post.”

M: Pretty much, except it took weeks or months to respond instead of seconds,, if at all. I don't condone this sort of behavior. Jealousy and pretentious behavior is self serving and escalates nothing of value. And there was no blocking someone—you’d run into them at conventions whether you liked it or not. Some of these arguments lasted years.

C: What do you think is at stake if others continue to dictate who can do what vs who has what?

M: I don't understand the question.

C: I run across an issue when archiving where certain individuals get upset with that I do. Many people want to be arbiters of certain information. What do you make of that?

M: If we listened to just one or two people willingly and without question, the world would be an awful place. That's the state of some politics, and its dangerously narrow minded. 

C: Could this extend to Showa era doujinshi culture?

M: Oh, absolutely. Certain doujin circles hated each other. You’d see groups mock each other’s art styles, accuse others of stealing ideas, or deliberately set up booths to avoid confrontation. Today, blocking as a formality of expressed intent is a bit different. An artist I follow mentioned this to me in passing about 3 years ago, where another artist had blocked them on social media yet spoke to them kindly and professionally in public.

C: This would make most Westerners fume.

M: I think its professionalism.

C: I can't even conceive that.

M: Well, it happened. And when Fujoshi (as a subculture) started becoming more mainstream, some older fans resisted it. Some didn't understand it, so to speak. I saw this from time to time, where some simply couldn't move into the new age. Of course, they lost that fight. 

C: A lot of fans in the West, including peers of mine, are making their own Gundam fanzines in homage to what was done during your time. 

M: Are they any good?

C: I haven't bought any, many sold out or had limited press.

M: Well, there is no way of telling then. 

C: All the same, fans, primarily women, are holding their own torch. 

M: That's nice.

C: That brings me to another question—how do you feel Otaku culture in Japan differed from Western anime fandoms in the same period? Are you aware of this?

M: Of course. From my point of view, the Western fandom in the 70s and 80s was academic. I am mainly speaking about America. French fans corresponded with groups in Japan over Mecha and Shoujo works and there were several pen pal clubs especially for this. Italians, too. Americans (as fans) had a sci-fi club influence, with people publishing formal reviews, critical essays, and detailed encyclopedic breakdowns. Things changed in the late 80s and early 90s.

(Vol. 11 of Nova, a Western fanzine dedicated to anime and manga as a subculture from America. While published in 1987, the contents of the zine give way to then new fandom ideologies around series that aired during the mid to late 1970s, etc.)

C: Through localization or?

M: No, through journals. This is what I mean. 

C: I know that Space Battleship Yamato as Star Blazers was massive in America, of course. Many Western fans today are cataloging these histories with Cosmo DNA. 

M:  I have seen this website in passing. I do feel that the Japanese fandom was more raw. More handmade. More underground at times. Japanese fans were creating their own transformative works—doujinshi, unofficial sequels, parody animations. Even cosplay was more performative in Japan. I am unsure if Western fans had cosplay shows and live events. I can remember these vividly, so I won't assume.

C: Did you know of any Americans who participated with these circles.

M: Yes and no. Some Japanese fans had contacts in the West, though it was rare. I certainly did not. A few Western fans managed to break into Japanese circles, especially in the late 80s when international conventions started growing. But even then, there was a divide.

C: How so?

M: A divide among Western fans. I knew of men who studied at UCLA who would come to Tokyo to shop. At the time, studios were not actively participating in many fan club events some 20 years prior. Western fans brought back things, had their own conversations. The internet made this especially realistic.

C: So the core has remained the same, just the platform has changed.

M: Exactly. Fans are still fans. They still argue, they still obsess, they still create. The difference is in how visible those processes are. Before, if you weren’t in the right room at the right time, you’d never know about a feud. Now, feuds are archived, searchable, and instant. That changes how people perform in a fandom—but not the fundamental instincts that drive it.