Dear Me

January 2, 2007

Dear Me,

You know what your goal is.  When you began writing what you thought would be a simple short story you thought it would be finished by the New Year.  The holidays came and went (all five of them) and the deadline slipped to the end of January.  Now, you would be happy to finish a draft by March.   

It must be done by then.  Purim falls on March 3rd and Debbie is expecting you to read your tale of the once mighty, now fallen, Vashti, at her party.  You don't want to disappoint Debbie now that you've convinced her that you are some sort of creative genius.

You and Debbie have long been interested in Vashti's untold story.  Ever since your families started celebrating the holidays together, you two have wondered whether Vashti isn't a heroine in her own right.  At Purim you read from the Bible how Vashti, Queen of ancient Persia, disobeys the King's summons to appear before him at a banquet.  When she refuses, the King deposes her.  This makes way for the nice Jewish girl, Esther, to become Queen. 

It is fortunate that these things come to pass, because when the evil royal adviser, Haman, devises a plan to kill all the Jews, Esther is able to put the King straight and save her people from destruction.  The Book of Esther is good news for the Jews: another opportunity to boast "they tried to kill us but they didn't,"  but what about Vashti?  We don't even know whether she is divorced, beheaded, or confined to the harem for the rest of her days. She disappears from the story, never to be heard from again.

So when this Vashti creature began appearing in recent months - in your dreams, in the car, even in the shower - you listened.  When she told you she had a story, and she wanted you to ghostwrite it, you were honored.  Another person might have crossed the street like she was a weirdo or had cooties, but you were drawn to her like she was some kind of pied piper.  Vashti promised you the greatest story ever told, and you would get credit for it.  What a scoop!

Who knew when you began writing The Book of Vashti that this long-silent Royal would be such a blabbermouth?  But if you think about it, anyone would have a lot to say after bottling things up for nearly 2500 years.

When you and Vashti started your collaboration together, you thought it was going to be some itty bitty book: ten pages or so - perfect for something like People Magazine or Cosmopolitan or a Purim party.  But no.  It seems that Vashti wanted to start her story from before she was born and include all sorts of details: not just the juicy kiss-and-tell parts that she had tantalized you with at first, but with the "cultural context of her time."  What does she think? That your readers know from culture?

She wants you to describe the foods she ate, the clothes she wore, and the weather.  But will she tell you what foods she ate, the clothes she wore, or the weather?  No!  "Google it," she says,  You can't expect me to remember such details from so long ago."  What a prima donna!  You can see why King Ahasuerus might have wanted to get rid of her.

So, you have been writing since November, and what do you have to show for it?  About 12 pages or so and Vashti is only 16.  She has concluded one romance with a stable boy on her family estate and just met Ahasuerus, who is a prince at the time (and 4th in line to the throne.)  They both are showing a keen interest in each other.  Now you have to proceed to their courtship, engagement, and wedding.    But will Vashti tell you about her courtship, engagement, and wedding? 

She gives only the barest details.  "We met when I was visiting the royal palace with my family.  He was playing some musical instrument and I sang along. It took place in a garden with a big pool, I think.  I thought he was cute." 

“Good Vashti” you say.  “Then what happened?  Did you meet again?”

"Oh, yes.  A few more times.  I think we went hunting...with both our families.  And there was a dinner at the palace given by his mother, an Egyptian concubine named Meret." 

“So when did he propose, or were those sorts of things handled between the families in your time?”

"Do I have to tell you everything?" she says stamping her dainty slippered foot.  "I thought you told me you worked in research.  Look it up." 

“See here, Vashti,” you say.  “There is very little available about the role of women in ancient Persia during the Achaemenid dynasty.  My sources tell me that women had some rights: that they could own property, work for wages, and inherit, even if they were married.  In spite of what The Book of Esther suggests, they could dine with men.  They think that women probably had a say in the choice of a husband.  So can't you tell me: did you want to marry Ahasuerus?  Did anyone ask your opinion on the matter?" 

"Of course they asked my opinion, but don't bother me with so many questions.  You are giving me a headache."

Oy vey!  What a kvetch.  You certainly have your hands full, but who ever said writing was easy?  We all have our personal demons to grapple with, and yours is this little tart, I'm afraid. 

So Marcia, you've come this far; you might as well make the best of it.  You know where the story has to go from here.  Vashti marries the prince, and you have to describe their wedding.  The prince becomes King through a series of mishaps to his brothers.  Vashti has told you all about the three deaths and has no end of trash talk about her mother-in-law's role in the last one.

Ahasuerus doesn't wanted to be King, and he's angry at his mother.  He turns to drink and the marriage sours.  He becomes a fat, drunken libertine, and Vashti refuses to dine with him in public.  The Bible hints as to why, but only Vashti knows the true extent of the depravity that forced her to turn from her husband, and here she does tell all.

Vashti hosts her own party and when she is called, she does not come.  The King declares her persona non grata and she surrealistically disappears from view.  She walks around the palace like a ghost, seeing all and hearing all but no one sees or hears her.  She goes into a snit, but she can do nothing about it.

Esther enters on cue to find herself one of many maidens in the harem, there for the King's pleasure and vying to become his next bride.  She is young, timid, and shy and doesn't really want to be there.  Fortunately for her modesty, when it is her turn to spend a night with the King, he is too drunk to do more than slobber on her. 

Esther has a cousin, Mordechai, who works at the palace as an accountant.  That much Vashti told you.  It doesn't say anything about accountants in the Bible.  Mordechai won't bow down to Haman as he demands.  The Bible says it's for religious reasons, and that is true, in part, but Mordechai also gets fed up with having to give in to Haman's crazed megalomania. It is one of those spur of the moment I'm-not-going-to-stand-on-the-bus-one-more-time sort of things.  Seeking revenge, Haman convinces the King to enact a diabolical plan to kill the Jews. This is not hard with the King drunk most of the time. 

Mordechai instructs Esther to go to the King and plead with him to rescind his order.  Esther is afraid because after her last encounter with the King, she was told don’t call us, we’ll call you.   Nevertheless, she agrees to fast for three days before going to Ahasuerus. 

While she is bemoaning her fate and that of her people, she becomes aware of a Presence.  She thinks it is God, but it is only Vashti.  Vashti wants to help and this time Esther can see and hear her.  Vashti convinces her to end her fast shortly before seeing the King, so she doesn’t look like death and repulse him.  They pray and fast together.  They break fast together.  Vashti teaches her some womanly secrets and in another surrealistic moment, merges with Esther.  They become One.

In the final pages, with Vashti taking up a portion of her brain and her libido, Esther approaches the King with confidence.  She enchants him.  She makes her case for the Jews and against Haman brilliantly. Haman dies; the Jews live; and their descendants commemorate the event by celebrating Purim every year.  Now they can learn Vashti’s true role in the story... if you ever finish writing it.

You must see by now that this is clearly not a short story.  Can you confine it to a novella; about 50 pages, max?  That's less than a page a day with what you have already. 

All you need is a draft.  If Vashti screams that she wants a whole novel, or you are not getting the details right, tell her to give you some slack; you are doing what you can to get something ready for the holiday.  Remember, time is nipping at your heels, so if you can't get the information you want from Vashti or your research, just make it up.  After all, it is fiction.

Keep Writing and Good Luck.

Regards,

Myself And I



January 28, 2007

Dear Ms. I,

Thank you for your encouragement and your constructive suggestions.  It's helpful to have support around the ever difficult writing process, and an honor for someone as talented as yourself to take an interest in me.

I have followed your advice and I have been writing nearly every day.  I have been keeping to schedule and I have now reached the part where the Vashti is deposed and am up to 30 pages.  At this rate I should finish on time, but it might be more like 60 pages when I am done.

After I finish the draft, I will add it to my portfolio and request reviews before I start rewriting.

As for a novel, I don't know.  Vashti and I have been talking it over.  She understands that I might not be quite ready to commit myself to a novel yet.  I told her I would continue to revise the original story with the intent of expanding it each time.  I will not devote myself to this exclusively but will attempt to hone my writing skills with short stories as well.

Vashti and I have been having some great laughs together about husbands, children, growing old and other womanly topics.  She can be quite a raconteur when she wants to but when she doesn't, there's no budging her.  I've come to realize, if she doesn't want to talk, I shouldn't push her.  I just work on some of the bits I know more about and hope she'll come around in her own time.  She usually does.

Thanks again for your help.

Sincerely,

Me