Dear Stephenie Meyer:
You don’t know me, but I of course know of you. You are the author of the ridiculously popular Twilight series of novels, which are currently enjoying a place at the top of our pop culture food chain thanks to a series of movie adaptions that are being warmly received from your legions of fans. I have never read one single word of a single Twilight novel; however, virtually every single credible source of criticism I know of has described you as an absolutely atrocious, hack writer, who is merely popular because she is playing on the hidden, buried desires of bored and neglected housewives and rejected teen girls. I think this is bullshit. You have a legion of, not just fans, but rabidly devoted fans. Clearly your work has touched on something…I don’t pretend to understand what…but I fervently believe that great writing is all about stirring emotion in your reader, and from that respect you are clearly brilliant. As a fellow writer, you have my most sincere respect and admiration.
My disconnect with the Twilight phenomenon extends to yourself, to the point where I had actually never seen a picture of you before. Until today. I don’t remember what particular random internet-surfing tangent led me to run into a photo of you, but I did, and I must admit I was quite shocked. I assumed you’d be ugly. Now that probably sounds like a very unfair comment, but let’s be honest, you are: A) a writer…not known for their superior looks, B) a writer of a thinly veiled abstinence parable, and the biggest champions of abstinence tend to be those who can’t get any anyway, and C) a writer of vampire novels. Nobody is lining up around the block to sex Anne Rice. So I made a, in hindsight very incorrect, assumption.
You are actually quite attractive. Not supermodel beauty type attractive, of course, but that shit is boring anyway. You look like a pleasant, somewhat nerdy type thing, with a nice rack. Not to belabor the point, but again, I am very surprised. And this fact brings me to the point of my letter to you today:
You and I should totally bang.
Seriously. I think you’d enjoy it. From one writer to another. Now in the interest of full disclosure, I am not a shirtless, glistening werewolf; nor am I a glittering, super-strong emo vampire. But nonetheless, I will bang the living daylights out of you. To quote the text message of Tiger Woods: “I will wear you out…” Forget about Breaking Dawn or New Moon…your next book will be called Aching Vagina, because that is what you will have. An aching vagina. From my penis.
So think it over, Stephenie Meyer. I will be awaiting you in my romantic, gothic love castle…otherwise known as my mom’s house.
EDIT: I will give a shiny nickle to the first Twilight fan who can tell me where I could electronically submit this letter to Stephenie Meyer via the internet. I looked all over her official fan page and couldn’t find a spot to submit things. Seriously, if someone finds a place, I will send this to her.