Dearest Wendy-
I do declare, can this world possibly become more tiresome? A few nights back, I thought I’d take a stroll down to Leicester Square for a little supper. I love the lights of the cinema marquees, and a little fresh air. I get so little of either to suit my tastes, if you catch my drift. And what should I be assaulted with at all of the magic lantern palaces? Vampires! What did I see at the booksellers off St. Martin’s Lane? Vampires, vampires, and more vampires. Curse those tedious Twilight novels for making the undead “fashionable” again! I had hoped we’d seen the last of chic de sangsue when that Rice woman stopped writing about her ponce vampires. But it appears we are to be subjected to more tales of blood and erotic yearning.
I’ll tell you the objection I have to these stories, my dear girl. Why do they always revolve around some moonstruck mortal virgin who is enamored with a romantic, tragic male vampire? Twilight, and this True Blood serial that is so popular in the Americas. Even old, tarted up Lestat was written as an unwilling predator. Why are there never any sympathetic female vampires, myself included? Why are we always these heartless seductresses bent on luring men to their doom and gleefully draining their life’s blood? Sink me! I was the victim of tatty old Vlad! And suddenly old man Stoker’s transformed me into a “bloofer”, sucking the blood out of little children. As if I’d get my mouth near the filthy neck of some grimy brat. Why, the very idea!
Wendy, I’d love to attend one of your meetings, if we can address some of these gross inequities directed at our sex. Oh, and if the gathering could be held at night, of course.
And do you think you might have some of those darling lads of yours come as well. What were they called, then? Ah, yes-“The Lost Boys”. Why, I’d wager they might fancy a bit of maternal affection that I’d be only too happy to provide to the little dears.
Your dearest friend-
Lucy Westenra
Dear Lucy—
You raise many interesting questions (no pun intended). In fact, on my wanderings these past few months, fact-finding among our literary sisters and brothers, I discovered there is a lot of strong feeling about just the kind of issues you raise. The zombie community, for example. “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies,” aside (which even Elizabeth and Darcy chortle over, of an evening at Pemberley, apparently), most zombies I talked to feel that they just get used over and over for tired story lines, all supporting the same tired themes. “Where are the zombie heroines?” they ask. “The zombie love stories, tender and true?” And “how long till we are not simply commodified for a sensation loving public, but given our rightful place in the culture?”
There are no simple answers. I’m still on my travels, puzzling over my notes every night in the local Super 8 motel. But you’ve given me a lot to think about. Welcome, Lucy, to our group. As winter is settling in, I don’t think that after dark thing is going to be a problem. And several of the Lost Boys have already expressed an interest in an exchange of views with someone like yourself. I do have to warn you, that boyish prattle does tend to pall. But perhaps I’m being sexist. It’s possible, I suppose.
With sisterly affection,
Ask Wendy