|From Pride & Prejudice 2005|
My Dear Miss Austen,
I am writing to apply for the position of Austen Heroine. I humbly submit, for your approval, my credentials:
- While I have little experience in wearing/looking good in Empire-waisted dresses, I am decidedly pro-apron and pro-floor-length nightgown.
- I love to sing. I'm not good at it, but as long as there is an annoyingly-perfect woman who is secretly engaged to the local heartthrob singing louder, that matters little. I know not how to draw, paint tables, embroider cushions, or play the pianoforte; I am, however, well-practiced in conversing with pompous elderly men, as well as sitting through one-sided conversations with ridiculous women, and eating dinner among people with matchmaking habits.
- I have at least three sisters.
-You have permission to list all the faults of my family in the first chapter, and save mine for later on, by way of a humbling realization that I've been a prideful git all this time, which hopefully results in a timely marriage to a person of good standing and even better character.
- Speaking of marriage, some select relatives who shall remain unnamed have made tacky jokes about marrying me off since I was about twelve. That's real experience, right there.
- And I am perfectly willing to make all hypothetical future references to sex, menstruation, and pregnancy exceedingly vague.
- One of my middle-names is Charlotte, which not only can be read-into as an obscure connection to Cambridge, but which is easy to work with, and a nice alternative to Mary and Elizabeth (coincidentally, I am closely related to an Elizabeth, and also a Samuel, and to a James. It's like we walked out of a Regency baby-name book.). So if you'd like to make the fictionalized version of me the niece of a countess, or something, do go ahead.
- I'm into battles-of-wits. I'm also into agonized walks, alone, through gardens, over-thinking my love-life; discussing things with close friends while we 'take a turn about the room', and judging said friends' potential spouses. Tension-filled dances are also all good on this end.
- As are gents with names like Fitzwilliam, Robert, Edward, Edmund, and Charles. Nothing like a nice old-fashioned name. And a nice old-fashioned coat. And a nice old-fashioned declaration of love that opens with, "This is a charming house." [My apologies to anyone I might know named Fitzwilliam, Robert, Edward, Edmund, or Charles. Honestly not trying to flirt; you just have great names.]
- Hypothetically, I would be completely cool with naming a baby girl after you.
- I think that it is intolerably stupid not to take pleasure in a good novel.
Please take your time in replying, madame, and thank you for your marvelous contribution to literature.