Whenever someone tells me that I'm "famous" as a writer, I always counter that, at best, I'm "gayfamous." If you walked up to an average person on the street, they'd have no idea who I am. Hell, the majority of queer people wouldn't have a clue.
To a small circle, my name is known and I'll admit that it's a little satisfying to know that some of the people who do are actual celebrities. Instead of knowing my name or face though, it's always been more important to me that my admirers have read and digested what I write.
I'm always a bit uncomfortable when a flatterer approaches me on the street or at an event. The worst are the "admirers" who flirt or flat out proposition me because they think I'm famous. (Hint: I'd rather feel pretty than famous - interesting than an accomplishment.)
Celebrity is entirely subjective, I've learned. It waxes and wanes and, for the most part, it has no basis in reality. People want to adore someone; the crowd wants to love another person entirely for a short amount of time based solely off superficial impressions that never includes daydreams of the celebrity taking a crap or washing their socks.
Brett Cohen illustrates this perfectly when he decided to be a celebrity for a few hours. After he surrounds himself with a few fake bodyguards, assistants, and photographers, the crowd in Times Square surges forward for autographs and pictures while gushing about how great his last movie/album/tv show was.
Have you ever approached a celebrity out in public? I'll admit, I approached Cory Montieth in a clothing store and asked for a photo. Have you done it too?