I SEARCHED THROUGH MY FOLDER OF READERS' EMAILS AND FOUND Fiorella's. Sent the year before, when she said she was sixteen. The passage that caught my eye was this:
I'm not much of a talker, though I often wish I were. So writing is very important to me. It's like a sleepover, when you feel you can say all kinds of things, because the darkness hides your blushes.
I think there is no better way to get to know someone than reading what they write. Even if I lived with someone I loved, I'd still want to write to him all the time, and him to me.
I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. I have only had a few. Three, to be exact. They were all pretty useless. None of them was any good at writing. I live in hope!
In one of your stories, a girl wrote that she lives to read and writes to live the life she cannot live otherwise. Is that true for you as well? I hadn't thought of it before, but I think it is true for me too.
Some of my friends say I'm a bit weird for reading and writing so much and taking it so seriously. In my opinion, they are the ones who are weird for not taking it seriously. Do you agree?
And do you have any tips that will help me to become a professional writer, because there is nothing else I want to be.
I tried to put myself in Karl's shoes by remembering myself at eighteen, when I was as shy and unrevealing as him, and drafted a letter he might send to Fiorella to keep her happy while he and I worked out what to do about the questions she'd set him.
Dear Fiorella [or Hi, Fiorella, or any salutation you prefer],
I've read your questions.
Do you really want to torture me?
If so, you're going the right way about it.
Like I told you, writing isn't my favourite thing.
But you've given me this ultimatum.
I think you're testing me, to see how much I want you.
Answer: Very much.
So I'll do it. Or I'll try.
But don't expect me to be quick. Answering all your questions could take a book. I have to think what I want to say and I am a slow writer.
I will send you a few answers, maybe just one at a time so you don't have to wait and get tired of waiting and ditch me anyway.
Is that OK?
Love [or whatever valediction you prefer],
Karl