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Salutations fellow writers!

I am Esref Yildiz, and I seek to join or create a community of writers here in the Well. It is good for the like-minded to come together in fellowship to inspire and share their works. Also to create a small pressure amongst each other to produce work on a regular schedule, as not to disappoint one another, and to affirm our priorities if only to oneself. Ideally, we would meet at a cafe for an hour at an agreed upon day of the week, and spend most of this time to write. I reside at the Krak if wish to join me.

Sincere in my word,

Esref Yildiz

Esref tends to keep a copy of his outgoing correspondence for reference' sake. This is one such copy.

To Whom it May Concern,

          Salutations. I am Esref Yildiz, a refugee to this Well. Recently, I had the displeasure to sit through a performance titled, "The Golden Dream," produced by the Fantasia Company on behalf of Prelate Argent of the Gold League. As an admirer of culture and an amateur playwright myself, my standards for impromptu theatre are low—both for personal enjoyment and to support local artists—however, I found this effort a remarkable disappointment. It wasn't a play, but an advertisement in long form for an upcoming election. What a disgusting affront to live theatre! 

          Still, this would be no concern of mine. Plenty of production houses suffer the whims of the parasites that dangle the purse strings. In my genuine desire for literary analysis, I spoke hastily, but in what I believed were neutral and fair terms regarding the degradation of artistic sensibility to monied interests. And in response, from the Prelate himself and those affiliated with Fantasia, I not only received personal slights, but professions that this work was some "masterpiece" of "creative brilliance," rather than the naked boastings of a self-important brat and his cronies.

          Now then, this is where your interests may be pricked. As a newcomer, I'm quite ignorant to the specifics of your local politics and request a meeting with someone wise to the goings-ons, particularly as toward this Prelate whom if I'm not mistaken is your enemy. Then I would pen—not produce, mind you, I'm not a director—my own play to demonstrate what proper genre conventions look like as well as what proper satire is. I would gift it to your office and if you find it worthy and have the time and creative passions, you may produce it as you desire, though I intend to retain writing credits. I reside at the Krak should you desire further correspondence or to schedule a meeting.

          With respect to your efforts and sincere in my word,

          Esref Yildiz

To Whom it May Concern,

          Salutations. I am Esref Yildiz, a refugee to this Well. Recently, I had the displeasure to sit through a performance titled, "The Golden Dream," produced by the Fantasia Company on behalf of Prelate Argent of the Gold League. As an admirer of culture and an amateur playwright myself, my standards for impromptu theatre are low—both for personal enjoyment and to support local artists—however, I found this effort a remarkable disappointment. It wasn't a play, but an advertisement in long form for an upcoming election. What a disgusting affront to live theatre! 

          Still, this would be no concern of mine. Plenty of production houses suffer the whims of the parasites that dangle the purse strings. In my genuine desire for literary analysis, I spoke hastily, but in what I believed were neutral and fair terms regarding the degradation of artistic sensibility to monied interests. And in response, from the Prelate himself and those affiliated with Fantasia, I not only received personal slights, but professions that this work was some "masterpiece" of "creative brilliance," rather than the naked boastings of a self-important brat and his cronies.

          Now then, this is where your interests may be pricked. As a newcomer, I'm quite ignorant to the specifics of your local politics and request a meeting with someone wise to the goings-ons, particularly as toward this Prelate whom if I'm not mistaken is your enemy. Then I would pen—not produce, mind you, I'm not a director—my own play to demonstrate what proper genre conventions look like as well as what proper satire is. I would gift it to your office and if you find it worthy and have the time and creative passions, you may produce it as you desire, though I intend to retain writing credits. I reside at the Krak should you desire further correspondence or to schedule a meeting.

          With respect to your efforts and sincere in my word,

          Esref Yildiz

And because some least part of me cannot but revel in upset I have caused, the words of some detractors as I recall them. Am I so parched for culture that even these lazy, personal diatribes refreshed me?

Live and drink! I'm sorry to say I didn't pen that masterpiece of the stage, but it did excite my creative sensibilities. I think I will try my hand at a production for the stage. Good citizen, I have a role in mind just for you. Will you be my star in the upcoming show: The Voiceless Prick?

I second the Prelate, soon to be Legate! Go suck on a stone, you beardless gnome. This stage ain't big enough for your clumsy feet. And another thing, get your own playbook, ye witless fool! Fuck off!

Fret not, dearest critic. For your frown is but a muse to our craft, urging us to soar even higher! Yes, a feeding hand will sometimes take the pen, but does it not provide ink aplenty for all to script their dreams? This showing was not one to impress a Grand Due, or the Royal Fornato, as our last. Merely an homage to a friend, and a Golden Dream to come.

Maribeh 19, 7788

It has been a few days since my arrival to Ephia's Well, and to my surprise there is a working dramatic company! It is my practice to come with low expectations, and to support other artists, but after sitting in the sun and watching this afternoon play I could not stop from thinking what was wrong with it. So I sat down and began to write, being very pleased with the outcome as I often am.

My first bit of writing since I came here and it was criticism. But so astute! so I thought. And on its heels that this must be shared immediately not just so that others could validate my worth, but also to find and be with my people whom enjoy speaking and thinking on such things.

Unwisely, I made a sending, and pared down the message so as not to unduly burden my purse, and on reflection, this was also foolish. It is not my custom to assault artists, at least so openly, and I fear this is what I did. Very stupidly.

I include it here for posterity, and perhaps to learn better of my own foibles and not, as is so often the case, to repeat them.

It is Esref Yildiz who speaks regarding the production of "The Golden Dream"—forgive me if that is not the title, there were no playbills—by the Fantasia Company. I was excited to attend theatre that included a lion, real flame, and a grotesque satire of the garrison, but that is where my praise ends.

Fantasia, like all companies, relies on producers such as Master Argent, though often to their detriment. The "Golden Dream" was without character, emotion, story, and most critically lacking in witty dialogue. A mere political advertisement to support the Gold League for a vote, that fell on its face.
   
Bad enough art must meet a patron's approval. Worse, when the gift-giving hand steals the pen entirely to mangle the artist's vision so that it no longer can be called art at all. "The Golden Dream" revealed the limits of a party dedicated to greed. Does it seem as ugly to you as it does me?

No polical rants idiot!