Sooooooo…yeah. What’s up? Still dead? I figured so much. I’mdoing well, thanks for asking. I don’t really know if you know what’s going ondown here, but everybody just loves, loves, loves you. Did you know we readyour books for literature classes in universities worldwide? Yes. They stuff awhole mess of crazy college kids in a smelly room and say, “Hey, read thiswhole book by right now.” And the kids are all like, “What? Let me light mydoobie first.” Don’t worry about what a doobie isthe point is you are ruininglives on campuses all over this country.
Now that may be a little harsh, but, then again, I’m alittle bitter. I don’t blame you really. You were just writing the great lovestories that weaseled their way into 21st century culture. Must Ihole myself up and worry about who the mysterious Frank Churchill is really inlove with? I accidentally called my boss Mr. Darcy, and it was really awkward.I think in British accents now. I can’t turn it off.
So all I ask is that you come back as some sort of ghost,creepy old woman, or elusive young girl (your choice), and convince the worldthat you really aren’t the bee’s knees. We just need to Google some stuff forclass instead of writing a twenty-page research paper due the Monday afterspring break. And if you want to grant me three wishes or help me kill LordVoldemort, go ahead. I don’t know if you’re a magic ghost. I’ll let you work itout.
Also melt all the snow.
Also my friend Emily says hi.
Sincerely,
Emilee Weier
P.S. I heard Charlotte and Emily Bronte didn’t like you verymuch. Suck on that!
