Helena Mirrorburst Potter-Scully Jackson McIntyre Summers had never met a Mary-Sue. Unless, of course, you consider meeting yourself to be meeting a Mary -Sue, in which case, this would discount the next phrase, being that she never lied. But it is difficult to know whether or not you have ever met yourself, or if that even counted. Helena Summers learnt at an early age that it was difficult to please your critics, so we'll say that Helena Mirrorburst Potter-Scully Jackson McIntyre Summers had never met a Mary-Sue, but she sometimes lied.
Although the certainty that she had never met a Mary-Sue, and that she was always honest, was not as strong as it had been at the beginning of the previous paragraph, she was becoming increasingly certain that she was, herself, a Mary-Sue.
She studied her beautiful face in the mirror through her violet eyes. Her waist length blonde hair, which she was currently brushing, fell over her face like a golden shower and there was a giggle from the people who knew what that actually meant. She was the perfect image of a young woman.
"There is no use for it," she said to herself, "I must be a Mary-Sue." Helena had a habit of talking to herself when the author wasn't talented enough to provide information in a more realistic fashion, and she secretly suspected that this contributed to her being a Mary-Sue.
It could be said that Helena was just like other Mary-Sues. She had a secret ambition. But hers was not to save the day, or kiss the boy or be a badly used plot device.
"Oh, how I wish I was a real Original character!" she said, explaining something that could have easily been included in the previous paragraph.
She furrowed her brow in a manner that made stupid people say, "You're so cute when you're angry/determined/constipated," and decided then and there that she was going on a journey to fulfil her destiny. She hoped, and so do the readers, that this journey would strip her of her annoying Mary-Sue traits and blatant stupidity and that her destiny would hold something more interesting than the cheese sandwich that was currently resting on the kitchen counter.
Helena put on her most practical walking dress (a boned bodice and a full length skirt), her most practical walking shoes (which bared a lawsuit-worthy resemblance to the Ruby Slippers from The Wizard of Oz) and set out the door, whistling the theme from The X-Files.
All in all, at least the girl was trying.
Pity Severus Snape didn't see it that way when she demanded, in front of the whole school, that he acknowledge his desire for his most hated student, Harry Potter.
Although the certainty that she had never met a Mary-Sue, and that she was always honest, was not as strong as it had been at the beginning of the previous paragraph, she was becoming increasingly certain that she was, herself, a Mary-Sue.
She studied her beautiful face in the mirror through her violet eyes. Her waist length blonde hair, which she was currently brushing, fell over her face like a golden shower and there was a giggle from the people who knew what that actually meant. She was the perfect image of a young woman.
"There is no use for it," she said to herself, "I must be a Mary-Sue." Helena had a habit of talking to herself when the author wasn't talented enough to provide information in a more realistic fashion, and she secretly suspected that this contributed to her being a Mary-Sue.
It could be said that Helena was just like other Mary-Sues. She had a secret ambition. But hers was not to save the day, or kiss the boy or be a badly used plot device.
"Oh, how I wish I was a real Original character!" she said, explaining something that could have easily been included in the previous paragraph.
She furrowed her brow in a manner that made stupid people say, "You're so cute when you're angry/determined/constipated," and decided then and there that she was going on a journey to fulfil her destiny. She hoped, and so do the readers, that this journey would strip her of her annoying Mary-Sue traits and blatant stupidity and that her destiny would hold something more interesting than the cheese sandwich that was currently resting on the kitchen counter.
Helena put on her most practical walking dress (a boned bodice and a full length skirt), her most practical walking shoes (which bared a lawsuit-worthy resemblance to the Ruby Slippers from The Wizard of Oz) and set out the door, whistling the theme from The X-Files.
All in all, at least the girl was trying.
Pity Severus Snape didn't see it that way when she demanded, in front of the whole school, that he acknowledge his desire for his most hated student, Harry Potter.