[dovate.com] » letters
Dear Alix,
While I can’t say that I’m glad that you’ve found happiness – because you haven’t – I can say honestly and without malice that I’m happy that you’re finally getting the help that you need. As I’m sure you’re aware, admitting your addictions, dysfunctions and fears is the first step towards recovery.
With a little hard work, focused determination, a change in diet, plenty of exercise, weekly therapy, a few plants, a cat, the support of friends, a temporary leave of absence, a hobby or two, installation of Chromalux lights, a conservative regimen of pharmaceuticals and a little luck, you might pull yourself out of this depression.
You might want to consider volunteering your time at a homeless shelter. There’s nothing wrong with finding your center this way. You’re not a starving child in Africa, so don’t feel bad about throwing away your leftovers! Go see a movie. There’s no shame in going alone. Spring is right around the corner. Get out and enjoy life.
On a personal note, I’m deeply sorry that your book hasn’t been published. To be completely honest – and this is something you need to hear – the editors are right. You’re not a good writer. Your characters fail to develop in any meaningful or interesting way, the writing is clumsy beyond repair and it’s clear that you’re reaching far beyond your base of experience. I don’t mean to completely discourage you because it’s not all bad. The plot is structured well and obviously has a lot of thought invested in it. In capable hands, who knows how effectively it could be developed?
But anyway, I hope this note finds you well. Things with me are busy, but good. To be honest, sometimes I envy you. Travel is tiring and the tedium of 80-hour weeks is excruciating. You know how I hate the bullshit and small talk that goes along with stroking every dick attached to a name. If you never have to swallow the crap of some asshole with your life in his hands, you’re better off. My life is like a political campaign, except that I’m always running and there’s never an election. It can be an exhilarating ride, but I’m not sure you’re cut out for it. Sometimes I don’t even know if I am. Just believe me that you’re better off.
It’s getting late and I should wrap this up. I hope you’re glad to hear from me, I’d just been thinking that I should reconnect. Deb told me about your brother and about the rehab and I realized how long it’s been. I can’t believe that Terminal Unrest was 6 months ago. What an awful night. I’m sorry I never called.
May success never find you.
Quinn
