You know what? I would save the receptionist. Just wanted to clear that up.

Dearest Joe (of Jennie & Joe),

This week's Collective topic is to engage in correspondence with a fictional character. I had it in mind to write a letter to one Mr. Scott Pilgrim, but when the post arrived yesterday afternoon -- and with it the invitation to your wedding -- I knew it was my duty to write to you instead.

Jennie has an intensely vivid imagination, as I'm sure you know, seeing as how she conjured you from its depths. For a long while, my favorite of her imaginary friends was Figment the purple dinosaur and his rocket ship (DUH!). And then you came along. We (The Collective) had a nickname for you in the very beginning, something out of a Roald Dahl book because we all love Roald Dahl very much, and you seemed as warm and whimsical and tall as one of his very best characters.

You were well-read, Jennie told us. We nodded. You were extra-ordinary in matters of intelligence, Jennie told us. We smiled. You enjoyed all the best TV shows, Jennie told us. We golf-clapped. You had the heart of a superhero, Jennie told us. We applauded wildly. You got her. You really got her, and the more she got you, the more she loved you. We wiped a tear from our eye.

One night, under the influence of alcohol, Jennie Collective-Tweeted and said that on your very worst day, you were better than Jim Halpert and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy combined on their very best days. That, my darling Joe, is when we had to slam on the breaks.

Could it be that our sweet Jennie had actually found a real-life person who was better in every way than the fictional characters she loved so dearly?

No, certainly not!

It was then that we began to suspect that you -- like Figment -- were, well, a figment of her imagination. Oh, but the lengths she went to to convince us that you were real: The fake blog where you are funny and insightful and astute; the fake Google Reader where you share all the best hero news and webcomics; the fake actual comic book you created that made us cry; the fake Blogger account where you comment here at this very Collective and make us swoon. And, of course, the fake email address where you have shared so much passion and wit with me about books and TV and comics. How you have wooed us, sweetest Joe! Oh, how you have wooed us!

Now, it seems, Jennie thinks she is going to marry you. (Her imaginary friend!) (The invitations are perfect, by the way -- drawn by you, of course.)

So here is my plea, loveliest Joe: Please leave Jennie's imagination alone. You can't be real. You're too good to be real. We love our Jennie so very much, and we know she would never choose to spend her life with anyone who isn't magic. And magic is only in books.

It has been nice knowing you, imaginary Joe.

love,
Heather

P.S. If you actually are real, I can't wait to meet you at your wedding. I'll be the one doing the reading of Evil Summer. You'll be the one marrying the most beautiful girl in the whole world.