Thursday, January 19, 2012

Dear John Green...

I've read every one of your books. Most of them several times.
And I have come to a conclusion.

You have written, through 3 of your 5 novels, and through 3 of your many characters, a variation of a recipe for the girl living my life thus far. 
Although I know there are probably 30,000 teenagers who are saying the same thing that I am right now, I feel like I'm on a different plane. 
I'm sure they do as well.
But my being is different. My story is different. And though I have always been an avid reader of many books, what you posses and command in your writing, while it is yours to do so (i.e. before it reaches the hands of it's readers) is the ability to write people. Not characters, but human beings. 

I am, in a manner of speaking, what one would get if one stuck Pudge (Looking for Alaska), Hazel (TFiOS) and Margo (Paper Towns) into a blender, pausing only to remove small, unimportant details like, say: testes, cancer, an 1/8 of the melodrama. 
With friends who change our lives by ending theirs, by committing me to a humiliating (yet nostalgically comical)1. 3 years of failing a drivers test, by tossing me in with one boy who broke my heart but opened my eyes, and another still who will tell me his life story by writing it in dry erase marker on a lazy Susan of a whiteboard in the center of a circular table in the library of a college neither of us attended....I sufficiently feel that my whole story is adequate enough to be the plot to one of your books. 
The only thing I'm missing: the epiphany that each being comes to in your novels. What makes them see what we don't.
What makes them...novel.

So I appeal to you, John.
Write me an epiphany?

Much Love, Best Wishes


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