Dear Mary,
As you know, I've been working on my memoir for some time, and obviously last night's breakup is going to be a crucial scene. I think it fits into my narrative quite well, actually, as it's symbolic of the massive downturn in my fortunes before I find professional success and, more important, myself. The denouement, if you will.
And so, while in a dramatic sense our breakup worked perfectly well, I feel it was too digressive, and could be tightened and focussed. I'd love if we could try it again, and, to that end, I have a few suggested edits. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear from you, as I consider you a valued collaborator in this process. Also, I just want to hear from you.
So, first off, instead of me shouting "Can you get me a towel?" from the bathroom when you enter the apartment, I'd rather have it be that you come in and I'm standing in the doorway and we both look at each other and just know. That way, the tone of the scene will be clear from the outset rather than all over the place, and I won't look quite so needy.
When I ask you what I did wrong and you answer, "Nothing, it's not like that at all," I don't really think readers are going to get where you're coming from. You're breaking up with me, so I must have done something wrong. Just pick anything that comes to mind, whether it's the time I scoffed at the idea of us having kids together or the soup-slurping. Because, if it's the soup-slurping, I can change that, and we can continue this relationship until you have a more cohesive vision for why it should end.
I get that all your stuff about "just not loving you anymore" progresses the action of the scene, but it feels a little more like a plot device than a sentiment consistent with your previously established internal character. Again, a little more justification would be appreciated.
When you come over to me and resignedly say, "This is for the best," I need you to be looking away from me so that you don't hear me mutter, "Is it?" under my breath. It doesn't really work if you respond, "Yes. What the hell kind of question is that?" I get where you're coming from with that choice, but my feelings of having been ignored by you are going to have a big payoff later, when, by happenstance, I meet you and your husband and your two children, and we get coffee and realize that the old animosities are gone because we're each finally hearing what the other one is saying, which leads us to wonder, for a fleeting moment, what it would have been like if we could have managed that when we were younger.
Oh, another thought—when I ask if there's someone else and your answer is yes, I'm assuming that the someone else is all the things I'm not: tall, rich, willing to go to museums. But it would be great if you could clarify that there isn't that spark between you two that we once had. That way, I can spend the next few months brooding over the things I am not before coming to love the person I am. It would also clear up some of the motivation issues regarding your choosing to end your relationship with an introspective, kind man who opened his heart to you. I just don't want you to look bad!
I'm a little torn on what to do with the food-delivery sequence. The way I order dinner before you get home without even asking what you want because I assume you'll be fine with chicken tikka masala, and then you telling me that you've never liked chicken tikka masala, and me responding with some confusion that we always get chicken tikka masala, and you saying that maybe you've fallen out of love with chicken tikka masala—that's all good thematically but felt a bit on the nose, even in the moment.
Finally, I'd like for the scene to end with us crying and holding hands, but sitting a foot or two away from each other, signifying that there is still a connection, but also now a distance between us, instead of how it actually went, with you crying and then me getting mad at you for crying, because if it made you sad to break up with me, you didn't have to do it. I think this will help the readers identify with me as a man trying his best to heal his wounds rather than just me as a petulant whiner.
Anyway, give me a call, and if you're going to refuse me this please do so in a way that emphasizes our shared language and maybe incorporates the phrase "I just wanted to hear your voice again."
Thanks!
