Dear Lauren,
I finished reading your book yesterday. I like it.

I’m Mike Long–one of the editors you mentioned who tried to get you to write for a publication but ultimately didn’t get anything to run–no offense. I’m in Washington, DC, and we swapped emails back in the spring about all that. Anyway.

I think you have true talent as a writer, and for several reasons: You don’t hold back about what you’re thinking and feeling, you are candid about what you have been through (the toughest kind of bravery, that), and you have somehow come upon a rather new style of writing that I do believe has a place in the world. Other people have tried (and will try again) to knock out prose in this kind of casual tone, but they all end up sounding lazy. Somehow yours holds together in a different way, and for reasons I don’t quite understand. Maybe you’re working hard to sound that casual, or maybe (and this is the one I’d bet on) it just comes out that way. I am pulled in by what you write, and obviously a lot of other readers are, too. I can imagine you doing great things with your style and your voice (two different things, I believe)–probably, and as you point it, out will be a matter of finding motivation or reason to discipline yourself to do so.

So please know that at least one writer out here–I make a living doing it, so I can claim a little authority–believes you have a future as an author, if that’s what you want.

As you note, a lot of people–probably most people–who have had the traumatic experiences you have had would write about them and romanticize them. Not you. You make it pretty clear that being clinically depressed and dealing with mental illness in its overwhelming-ness is not conducive to creativity, let alone happiness. I think that’s an important thing for a person to know, especially someone like you.

I always wondered how much of the whole Raymi thing was a hopped-up, literary version of your real life. I tend to think, having read your book, that what you write is pretty much who you are. That’s impressive, but it also makes me hope even more that you find some permanent satisfaction and peace of mind in your life. As much as one can know about a person from their writing alone, you seem funny, sensitive, smart, knowing. That can be a fun kind of view to have, a fun person to be. I hope that part is more you than the sad part.

I’ll stop here. I always love hearing that what I write connects with a reader, so I figure you feel the same way–and that’s why I’m writing to you.

Good luck with whatever’s next, and I’ll keep reading your blog. Write another book and I’ll buy that, too.

Merry Christmas,
Mike Long
Washington, DC