Cinematic: A Guest Post by Virginia Evans

Who we are with different people is really up to us, and Sybil channels different parts of herself into the letters she writes. A journey of growing older, healing and reluctantly embracing the winds of change, this reflective and funny read is perfect for epistolary fans. Read on for an exclusive essay from author Virginia Evans on writing The Correspondent.

When I started writing The Correspondent I was in the mood for something different than a traditional narrative framework. Books with creative structures like The Flat Share, The Color Purple, Interior Chinatown, Where’d You Go, Bernadette, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Gilead, are such a pleasure to read. These texts, though complex and serious, feel playful in a way, and a playful text is a joy to read. I love to be surprised. I loved to be engaged with a novel that feels innovative, certainly not all the time, but every once in a while. During the pandemic, I so enjoyed reading 84, Charing Cross Road for the first time. Even the addresses and signoffs were a delight treat for the eyes, and I decided I wanted to push the limits of that way of telling a story—through letters. How much could you squeeze into a book of letters and still have a compelling tale?

Putting the story together was like braiding a hundred strands, and it was fun and challenging to find my way through—the rhythm of letters, the dance of when to let Sybil speak and when to bring someone else to center stage, when to push out the peripheral stories and give them more breathing room, and when to pull back and tighten them. The format of letters afforded me a real freedom. Anyone could speak, and I could decide how often and when. The timeline wasn’t fixed, so there was way to bring the story in close, and then push it away. The silence and negative space built into the book is part of how it works, leaving room for each reader’s imagination to fill in the blanks of the story. Now, when I imagine people reading the book, it’s fun to think of the ways different readers will have different perceptions of what happened in between letters.

For me, the book was always very visual, very cinematic. I always felt I could see the story playing out on the big screen in my mind, even though the narrative is actually not written that way. Having the visual of Sybil, her house, her history, the other people in her life was also part of my writing process. I was watching how it played out, and seeing it helped me write it into existence.

I probably wouldn’t try to write a book in letters again. I’m not sure it would work as well a second time, though I have thought about continuing with the stories of some of Sybil’s corresponding partners in future books. Who knows? A few of them set themselves up to be the protagonists of their own vivid story, so I may not be finished with all of them just yet.