Monday, March 26, 2012

Fan Letter

This is fictional.

Dear World’s Greatest Author,
I never thought I would be writing to you a letter, but here I am. You know, you are my favorite author. I have read every one of your books and short stories. I keep them all on a special shelf right below a poster of that movie based on your best-selling novel.
I wanted to congratulate you on the birth of your son. What a wonderful gift! I bet he’ll grow up to be a brilliant writer like you some day. I saw his picture on your website. What a cutie! He definitely has your eyes. I have two sons myself and they are a joy, most of the time anyway. Isaac is a year old and Henry is three.
I wanted to see you at the writer’s conference last May but my one year old came down with the croup so I had to stay home. I was so disappointed. I wanted to see you so bad! I have only two copies of your books that are signed; both I got off of Craig’s list. They are authentic. I think. Either way, it’s something, right? I was so mad at my son for getting sick. I suppose it wasn’t his fault.  But I don’t think he understands what you mean to me. I don’t think anyone does. I hope you do.

I wanted to tell you how pretty your wife is. I saw her pictures on your web site. I can’t imagine a man as gorgeous and talented as you being married to an ugly woman. She is very lucky to have you. I wish my husband was a writer. He’s not very romantic. Instead, he is very practical and boring. I can’t imagine that you’re like that. It would be impossible. I read all your books and it’s like I know your mind. I can imagine who you are just by your writing. You are so open-minded. My husband isn’t very open-minded.
I wonder if your wife is open-minded. She would have to be, I guess. Or maybe she doesn’t condone the type of writing you do. Maybe she doesn’t appreciate it. It must be hard living with a woman like that, someone that doesn’t value your genius. Now that I think about it she has shifty eyes. I don’t really trust her. I bet you don’t trust her either. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right opportunity to leave her, the right woman to come along and make you happy.
You should leave her. I think I should leave my husband, as well. We could get a cabin and get away from it all. You could write your books and I could read them and tell you what I think of them. I write a bit of erotic fiction, too. I bet you would like it. It’s a bit dark, I guess. Darker than what you write. Have you ever heard of snuff stories?
Well, my love. I look forward to the nights we can make love in our feces and tie each other up, et cetera. Until then, keep writing and know: I love you.
Your Biggest Fan

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Dear My Biggest Fan,
You need therapy.
The World’s Greatest Author

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