We Regret to Inform You That Your Middle School Diary Has Lapsed into the Public Domain

This letter is to inform you (the author) that your intellectual property (middle school diary) has officially entered the public domain due to your failure to secure a copyright for these works.

What does this mean for you?

Essentially, the materials you authored from sixth through eighth grade are now free and available to the populace (everyone) for adaptation, publication, and general enjoyment.

We understand that this notice may elicit certain feelings (confusion, embarrassment, anger), but the copyright services have been available to you at all times. Our records indicate that you took a field trip to Washington, DC, in 2008, which would have been an ideal opportunity to stop by our headquarters and secure the necessary rights.

You may be wondering how these materials came into our possession in the first place. You will recall that during your last visit home, your mother (Sheila) told you she was cleaning out the attic and asked if there was anything you wanted to take. You failed to answer in the affirmative, so the materials were disposed of (dumped into a bin at the local Goodwill), where a copyright field agent is stationed at all times to sort through donations for any sensitive works.

Why are we here at the Copyright Office bothering with seemingly trivial materials like your diary at all? Well, like many of our fellow federal agencies, we have grown concerned with the current (massive) (sweeping) (devastating) government layoffs. So, in an effort to appear more useful and occupied than we typically are, we have expanded our jurisdiction to what we are calling “non-creative civilian works”—i.e., shopping lists, Sticky Note reminders, children’s letters to Santa, and, in your case, diaries.

You will be pleased to hear that your work joins the ranks of other celebrated materials to enter the public domain, including Ulysses, Mrs. Dalloway, and The Great Gatsby. While it may be a tad premature to classify your diary as a “literary classic,” we believe it to be a polarizing work.

We should clarify: In most instances, the materials that come across our desks are swiftly processed and passed along. But in the case of your diary… well…. we just couldn’t put it down.

“New Fall obsession” is the phrase most commonly heard around the water cooler when describing your work. Heartbreak, angst, public humiliation—your diary truly has it all. We even have a weekly book club meeting to pore over the countless juicy details within. I especially love the imagery you use to describe seventh-grade crush Tommy Buchannon’s frosted tips.

You might also be pleased (devastated) to know that several Hollywood studios are interested in adapting your diary for the big screen. In fact, we were able to procure one of the screenplays Sony Pictures commissioned. It makes the bold choice of opening during Trisha McMillan’s sleepover when you called your mom to pick you up after accidentally peeing yourself during that pillow fight.

Unfortunately, you will not be entitled to any compensation or residuals. But having your sordid story come to life for all to see should be rewarding enough. We have included an advance copy of the hardcover edition of your diary, which Simon & Schuster will be releasing this winter. We think the photo of the time you laughed so hard in the school cafeteria that milk came out of your nose makes for a perfect cover. And Margaret Atwood’s blurb—“A devastating portrait of American adolescence”—will certainly move some books.

If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact our offices via phone (disconnected) or email (unmonitored).

—The US Copyright Office