Post by Reens on Dec 12, 2005 8:22:06 GMT -5
Synopsis: Open letters to fan fiction authors of Pirates of the Caribbean per character. Time permitting, I intend to post one from each of the characters with their complaints.
Rating: PG-15 (For explicit sexual innuendos and pending references in later chapters)
Dear fan fiction authors,
I write to you with grave distress, from the depths of fan fiction hell where I was sent for the nth time this week. I know what you are thinking. I too would think it impossible for a dead person to write me. As it seems, after the initial shock, it becomes as routine as bouncing a ball on the floor.
Die: Grant a teenage Mary Sue a happily ever after with Will Turner.
Come back: Become uncharacteristically distant and irritatingly hateful so as to justify my impending killing.
Only if it ended there, I'd gladly keep up the facade if not for the money I'd be saving in 'cell phone bills' for the parents of the teens in question.
Let me indulge you with what should be a known fact by now. I didn't fall madly in love with Jack Sparrow and elope when marooned on the island. I'd think the constant deprecating glares I had given Sparrow time and time again should suffice. Unfortunately, the obvious indication isn't deemed ample. I humbly understand your projection of “personal desires” in senses both literal and implied, upon me. In showing goodwill, do understand if I wanted to do the obscene things as you so insinuate with a man twice my age, I would've gladly married the Commodore. Who was, a less controversial choice and to my father a more acceptable one. If the above reflection urges you the need to book my appointment with Lucifer, let me defend myself in saying I owe the man utmost gratitude in saving my life on more than one occasion. However, every time he does it promptly doesn't make me want to throw myself at him like a two cent strumpet and 'ride him like a horse.' Foreign idea but I assure you of its veracity. Sometimes a reiteration of dislike of a certain relation with a person, to their face, is just that. And not sexual tension. No matter, Temptation Island's ruse of how two unlikely people must find a romance when marooned together. Sadly, the audacity of the phrase 'if you were the last person on earth' rings true. Must a vile need of objectionable acts be met so urgently as to escape teether of obscurity? Really, you must think so less of your muse as you do me. Not that I find condolences in stating so.
I also remind you, my lack of lust for Sparrow after William Turner is conveniently removed by way of death or otherwise engagement in piracy. Though baffling, as Will is often tauted 'boring' for being as grounded and 'earnest' as he is. Of course characterization is the least of one's worries when concentrating on how to get dear Jack in bed.
Meek flower, I am not. I am much too capable for taking care of myself to depend on Will, Jack, Norrington, or any puritan or Luke Perry you pair me with. I need not faint nor cry profusely for I despise such behaviour. Being a governer's daughter and having lost a mother in childhood I've manacled the art of suppressing emotions. How else do you presume I remained calm while fighting undead pirates?
I felt, I brought forward my sheer passion, courage, and most importantly the will to endure unimaginable tasks if need be for people I hold dear. Apparently my rebellious streak and feisty approach in achieving the mentioned is misconstrued for a shrieking howler monkey. Who minding, need be constantly put in place by exaggerated means of 'slapping' or other forms of abuse by Jack or Will. Since they are fortunate enough to be of a gender opposite to the writing populace the minuscule detail of their actions aren't found objectionable or of any consequence. Allow me a strap on, if that duly interrupts the brutalization on my character, persona, and above all, sanity.
I would thank you for privileging me some thoughtfulness in future. Considering my sensitivities prior to puttingme under atrocious scrunities of your flavour. Hopefully, in doing you will have escapedmy urge of a mass mail orderin cursed pirate medallions. If just, to see how romantic you feel it is after having smelled a real pirate, catch their lice, or being on a ship without sight of dry land for days. Not to mention the fright of being among the blood thirstycreatures who want to kill you. Take it from an expert in dying, snogging handsome pirates would be the last thing on your mind.
Yours Sarcastically,
Elizabeth Swann
Rating: PG-15 (For explicit sexual innuendos and pending references in later chapters)
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
An open letter from “Elizabeth Swann”
An open letter from “Elizabeth Swann”
Dear fan fiction authors,
I write to you with grave distress, from the depths of fan fiction hell where I was sent for the nth time this week. I know what you are thinking. I too would think it impossible for a dead person to write me. As it seems, after the initial shock, it becomes as routine as bouncing a ball on the floor.
Die: Grant a teenage Mary Sue a happily ever after with Will Turner.
Come back: Become uncharacteristically distant and irritatingly hateful so as to justify my impending killing.
Only if it ended there, I'd gladly keep up the facade if not for the money I'd be saving in 'cell phone bills' for the parents of the teens in question.
Let me indulge you with what should be a known fact by now. I didn't fall madly in love with Jack Sparrow and elope when marooned on the island. I'd think the constant deprecating glares I had given Sparrow time and time again should suffice. Unfortunately, the obvious indication isn't deemed ample. I humbly understand your projection of “personal desires” in senses both literal and implied, upon me. In showing goodwill, do understand if I wanted to do the obscene things as you so insinuate with a man twice my age, I would've gladly married the Commodore. Who was, a less controversial choice and to my father a more acceptable one. If the above reflection urges you the need to book my appointment with Lucifer, let me defend myself in saying I owe the man utmost gratitude in saving my life on more than one occasion. However, every time he does it promptly doesn't make me want to throw myself at him like a two cent strumpet and 'ride him like a horse.' Foreign idea but I assure you of its veracity. Sometimes a reiteration of dislike of a certain relation with a person, to their face, is just that. And not sexual tension. No matter, Temptation Island's ruse of how two unlikely people must find a romance when marooned together. Sadly, the audacity of the phrase 'if you were the last person on earth' rings true. Must a vile need of objectionable acts be met so urgently as to escape teether of obscurity? Really, you must think so less of your muse as you do me. Not that I find condolences in stating so.
I also remind you, my lack of lust for Sparrow after William Turner is conveniently removed by way of death or otherwise engagement in piracy. Though baffling, as Will is often tauted 'boring' for being as grounded and 'earnest' as he is. Of course characterization is the least of one's worries when concentrating on how to get dear Jack in bed.
Meek flower, I am not. I am much too capable for taking care of myself to depend on Will, Jack, Norrington, or any puritan or Luke Perry you pair me with. I need not faint nor cry profusely for I despise such behaviour. Being a governer's daughter and having lost a mother in childhood I've manacled the art of suppressing emotions. How else do you presume I remained calm while fighting undead pirates?
I felt, I brought forward my sheer passion, courage, and most importantly the will to endure unimaginable tasks if need be for people I hold dear. Apparently my rebellious streak and feisty approach in achieving the mentioned is misconstrued for a shrieking howler monkey. Who minding, need be constantly put in place by exaggerated means of 'slapping' or other forms of abuse by Jack or Will. Since they are fortunate enough to be of a gender opposite to the writing populace the minuscule detail of their actions aren't found objectionable or of any consequence. Allow me a strap on, if that duly interrupts the brutalization on my character, persona, and above all, sanity.
I would thank you for privileging me some thoughtfulness in future. Considering my sensitivities prior to puttingme under atrocious scrunities of your flavour. Hopefully, in doing you will have escapedmy urge of a mass mail orderin cursed pirate medallions. If just, to see how romantic you feel it is after having smelled a real pirate, catch their lice, or being on a ship without sight of dry land for days. Not to mention the fright of being among the blood thirstycreatures who want to kill you. Take it from an expert in dying, snogging handsome pirates would be the last thing on your mind.
Yours Sarcastically,
Elizabeth Swann
.. 