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Dear Kasey

Lilyana Page

Handwritten letter with bold text over top.


Dear Kasey is a revised version of a flash fiction piece that I wrote back in summer of 2024. I wasn't quite satisfied with the first attempt, because it didn't really feel like a full story. It was more a bunch of musings from a fictional character. Amusing and fun to read, yes, but complete story, no.


Dear Kasey still isn't a full story, but I am presenting it as an example of what it can look like to give a character a distinctive voice that is all their own.


I think Dear Kasey could make a very good beginning to what is called an epistolary novel (or short story, or novella...), which is a form of writing that uses various letters or other similar kinds of correspondence to tell the story. It can be part regular novel with letters dispersed throughout, or it can be solely made up of letters. You can also include newspaper clippings, diary entries, etc. in an epistolary novel. It's a pretty cool form that I would love to try sometime. I'm an avid letter writer myself, so this kind of novel would make a lot of sense for me to write!


I thought that many of you would enjoy Dear Kasey, musings of an old fisherman to a younger man he corresponds with. Pay attention to the fisherman's distinctive way of talking, and how it shapes your idea of who he is and what he's like.


For comparison of character voices, I'm planning to also share a fictional reply from the fisherman's younger correspondent. It will likely be a few weeks before the next letter appears, so until then, Kasey says hello. He is excited to meet you.


Without further preamble (preamble...ooh...what a perfectly delightful word!), let me present Dear Kasey. I do hope you enjoy!



 


Dear Kasey

written by Lily Page



Dear Kasey:


You was askin’ me about where Goldie come from. I can’t believe I didn’t tell ya that story while you was here all summer on my fishin’ rig. It’s quite the yarn. Now, let me figgur on where to start.


Goldie had quite an interestin’ beginning, pal.                                                              


She floated in one day out o' the fog, off the grey, grey sea. Pale skin, golden hair, and crimson lips. More angel than baby. I picked her up out o' that rotten old rowboat right quick.


The wife cried when I brought Goldie home, she was so happy. We tried our darnedest ta find out where Goldie done come from, but never did learn.


We thought our miracle baby was perfect. The wife and I had been prayin’ that the good Lord would give us a for child years ’n years. Figured at our age we’d never see that dream granted, but here was the answer to our prayer.


Well, she turned out ta be quite a handful, but she was good. Most o' the time. I wasn't mighty happy the time when she was four and et my entire birthday pie.


When she got a bit older, you shoulda seen them Cove boys sneakin' shy glances at her, and all o' them little tokens o' boyish affection that mysteriously made their way onta her school desk.


By and by, one o' them boys begun ta hang round the house. I liked 'im all right, so I let 'im stick around. He was luckier than a couple o' the others. I didn't hafta deal with ‘em, though. I heard that Jake dealt with it behind the schoolhouse. That worked for me. Showed me he actually cared for my girl. Made me like 'im a bit better. 'Course, I didn't tell 'im that. Wouldn't wanna say anythin' that'd go ta his head.


Our Goldie's all grown up now, sweet as ever, and dang, she's pretty. Jake treats her like the angel she is. That's all this grumpy ole fisherman could ever want.


Well, there's one more thing.


Goldie and Jake had their first baby jest a year ago. He's an angel too, with his mama's thick golden curls. Me and the wife are overjoyed ta have a grand baby at last (and Goldie says there'll be more). Bein' grandparents will never get old. Jest as soon as my darlin' grandson gits old enough, I'll be takin' 'im out on the ole fishin' boat. I still remember fishin' for cod with my grandpa.


The wife is hopin' for a girl grand baby next, so she kin teach her ta quilt an' cook an' bake. I dunno as I'd mind a girl myself. Specially if that means more goodies n' desserts for me ta taste test.


You come on back in a year or two or three, an' I'll tell you all about my next grand baby. Heck, a grandpa's gotta brag a little.


Well, the wife is callin’, so I best be done writin’. C'mon up for a few days sometime. I can always use you on the fishin’ boat.


Write me back soon,


Davey

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