Oops, my claws are showing

[grammarwoman]

It's Friday again, which usually means my attention span is shorter than...what was I saying?

Anyway, so I'm bopping through LJ links and links-of-links, and I came across an online magazine that had a bunch of interviews. (Jason Dohring, you know I will always have a soft spot in my headheart for you after Logan, but please, "Moonlight", to be brief, sucks. No, really. It does. People's Choice award or not.)

Then I saw a picture, combined with a name, and I had to click it.

I struggled for a bit with the internal debate: Must not be catty, must not be catty, must not be catty...oh, fuck it.

This article's picture and caption caught my eye. Butcher, hm. I wonder if she's related to Jim Butcher? Sure enough, she's Jim Butcher's wife (psst, garrity, if you're reading this: the picture of Jim Butcher farther down the page makes him look like a relative of space_mice, doncha think?), and she's now a suspense romance novelist. The cattiness comes in (and oh, how a piece of my feminist's soul shrivels to expose this to the light) when I look at that picture and think, Huh. Piercing green eyes, long and curling red hair, milkmaid complexion...one or more of these things is Fake. (To be scrupulously honest, though, judging from the more candid shots further along in the article, those characteristics may all be legit and merely enhanced in the initial photo.)

Is this jealousy? Unfortunately and truthfully, yes, as that's almost the exact visage I would love to present to the world. (I have utter lust in my heart for red hair; I sincerely don't understand why women dye their hair bleach blond when they could be auburn instead. I felt like slapping Anne Shirley when she complained about her hair. And curls? Having suffered through stick straight hair and bad perms as a child, I weep for natural curls like that.) As the wife of a (presumably) financially successful author (and a romance author herself), why shouldn't she take advantage of the Glamour shots kind of beauty enhancements available to her? She looks lovely, if perhaps a trifle severe in that red lipstick. I should be wishing more power to her for her hard work and success. Instead I'm ready to dismiss her as a literal embodiment of Mary Sue-ness. *sigh* Sometimes, I really suck.

Now that I've made my shameful confession, I'm curious about you guys. What image pops into your head when you come across the phrase "Mary Sue", and does it reflect at all on what features you wish you had?

Comments

[garrity.livejournal.com]

Yah . . for me, Mary Sue is always a frame of mind. Whiny, dependant, needy, and a hsotage-on-the-hoof who finds his or her own unique snowflakely wonderfulness thorugh the benevolence and approval of the lead characters . . . Wesley Crusher is a Mary Sue, f'rexample.