Please tell me why I love you so much? You torment me with your archaic language. You spew realism as if it’s going out of fashion. You break my heart over and over again and just when I think the world couldn’t possibly get any colder than you’ve made it, you save me from eight hundred pages of misery and give me twenty pages of pure, unfettered joy. Quick, hand me “Bleak House” I need to start the process all over again.
Love, Your Tortured Fan, Kasie
P.S. A fantasy writer should not enjoy your works so much. Please tell me what sort of magical concoction you used in the creation of them that might explain my admiration.