Week 2

Dear Mr. Sal Paradise,

Though you do not know me, I write to you today to discuss something deeply urgent and concerning to me. My niece, Simone, has alerted me to your whereabouts, and she has told me that she longs to return to America after hearing of your "epic adventures across the States." While I have undoubted respect for writers and the "creative process," your work has provoked young women across the whole of France to uproot their lives and go out seeking men and whiskey and trucks fleeing the country and "adventure" and they just go out over the hills with marijuana.

In publishing your book, you've enticed young and prominent women across the world to do as you did. Simone has told me extensively of your dealings with women, about your BLASPHEMOUS adultery, and your utter dispossession of good and holy married life. She has grown desirous of cataloguing her own travels as you have, this time with fresh eyes. She has cast off her intellectual cloak and told me she may not ever come back -- that to be rigid, to occupy the static and worrisome state of an intellectual, is to "do a disservice to time."

It is for this reason that I demand an immediate addendum to your travel memoirs to be published au plus vite. To uphold the institution of marriage and the sanctity of a generation, to substantiate the very moral backbone of our society, I hereby implore you to tell the real ending to the story, and avoid the romance you've concocted in that head of yours of the road and your travels with this Mr. Moriarty.

Humbly,
Margaret de Beauvoir