Annie Proulx: NO MOAR BROKEBACK SLASHFIC PLZ

Any writer of genre fiction is no stranger to slash fiction, or slashfic, wherein fans with questionable writing talents pen trashy erotica about another author's fictional characters. (Also, traditionally they are of the same gender and, in the original work, are often sworn enemies.)

But it never occurred to me that people may write slashfic for characters of literary fiction, which is to say that catch-all "genre" loosely defined as, "books Michiko Kakutani would maybe deign to read." However, fans of Annie Proulx's popular novella, Brokeback Mountain, apparently have been hammering out some god-awful Jack/Ennis erotica, even sometimes sending it to Proulx as if to say, "O HAI, FIXED THAT 4 U!"

Annie would like you slash writers to please, please, PLEASE stop that.

From an interview quoted from Wall Street Journal in The Independent, Proulx complains of the amateur erotic emissions submissions: "Brokeback Mountain has had little effect on my writing life, but is the source of constant irritation in my private life."

So anyway, while discussing (read: rolling on the floor laughing about) the idea of literary fiction slashfic with the hilarious Miss Banshee, we began to wonder: if Annie Proulx is getting slashfic emailed to her, she can't be alone with her fellow PEN/Faulkner-/National Book Award-/Pulitzer-winning contemporaries, right? So what might other literary slashfic look like?

Snarky Amber: I mean, do you think Norman Mailer got slashfic?
Miss Banshee: HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAAA
Snarky Amber: And (this is too soon, but I'm going there) do you think, if DFW got slashfic, that it had footnotes?
Snarky Amber: "He caressed her breast(1)
Snarky Amber: (1) it was small, but with an unusually large areola,* which bumpy relief erupted at the center into a gumdrop acropolis of a nipple.
Snarky Amber: *however, he found this particular anatomical anomaly appealing."
Miss Banshee: AHHAHAHHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH
Miss Banshee: Oh my god, I'm gonna pee
Miss Banshee: ee cummings slashfic:
Miss Banshee: "e
Miss Banshee: e
Miss Banshee: e
Miss Banshee: i
Miss Banshee: m
Miss Banshee: c
Miss Banshee: um
Miss Banshee: cum
Miss Banshee: ing
Miss Banshee: ."
Snarky Amber: MAHAHAHA
Snarky Amber: Hemingway slashfic:
Snarky Amber: "He came. It was nice."
Miss Banshee: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Miss Banshee: Bronte slashfic:
Snarky Amber: Bronte IS slashfic. Without the sex.
Miss Banshee: "And lo he did cum all over the moors and sheep."
Snarky Amber: OMG I'm gonna lose my shit.
Snarky Amber: this is so going to be a post.

Since my threshold for immature humor is BOUNDLESS (please see above), I invite you to show us, oh hilarious and well-read MamaPop readers, what would your favorite literary fiction author's slashfic look like? I will bestow upon the best entrant the Anne Rice Award, or Ricey*.

Slash away!

UPDATE! WE HAVE A WINNAH!

Audrey's Jane Austen slash was so spot-on, I nearly wept. Here it is, the winner of the first ever Anne Rice Award for Literary Slashfic:

Although already five and twenty, Elizabeth's social stature in the village was but little diminished by virtue of her spinsterhood due largely to her great personal charm and pleasing countenance. Witty, clever, and of a mind far more independent than her mother would prefer, Lizzie greatly vexed Lady Bennett with her willful insistence that naught was amiss with her marital status. Although generally a model of decorum, when frolicking about the grounds with her lady's maid Bridget, the two would chase each other about with the uncontained abandon of childhood innocence. On a spring day, the two having disrobed for their customary swim in the creek, Lizzie gently dried the younger girl's back and rained light kisses upon Bridget's ivory shoulders with all the affection of a cousin . . . Until Bridget abruptly turned to face her mistress, her cheeks flaming hot and eyes heavy-lidded, breath heaving beneath the soft curves of her décolletage, and, pursing her rosebud pink mouth, whispered a weak and plaintive, "Please, miss," until Lizzie relented, grasped her lover firmly about her tiny waist, and pressed herself into Bridget's quivering arms . . .

Please bestow upon Audrey your adulation.

*"The Anne Rice Award" is purely honorific; no prize money, goods or services of monetary value will be bestowed upon the winner of "The Anne Rice Award", unless monetary value can be placed upon the admiration of your peers and the writers of MamaPop. All rights reserved; all wrongs unreserved.

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