I'm sorry. My friend got me drunk.

Despite his fame, writer and poet Edgar Allan Poe struggled financially throughout his entire career, even following the publication of his much lauded poem, The Raven. He also enjoyed a drink or two, to a dangerously extent during later life. The following letter was written by Poe in July, 1842, and sent to his publishers along with an article he was desperately hoping they would buy. In the letter, Poe apologises for behaving badly when they last met in New York and blames the embarrassment on his friend William Ross Wallace, a fellow poet who supposedly let Poe drink too many juleps before the meeting.

Transcript follows. Enormous, high quality image of the letter here.

Source

Transcript

Gentlemen,

Enclosed I have the honor to send you an article which I should be pleased if you would accept for the “Democratic Review”. I am desperately pushed for money; and, in the event of Mr O'Sullivan's liking the “Landscape-Garden”, I would take it as an especial favor if you could mail me the amount due for it, so as to reach me here by the 21rst, on which day I shall need it. Can you possibly oblige me in this? If you accept the paper I presume you will allow me your usual sum, whatever that is for similar contributions - but I set no price - leaving all to your own liberality. The piece will make 8 of your pages and rather more.

Will you be kind enough to put the best possible interpretation upon my behavior while in N.York? You must have conceived a queer idea of me - but the simple truth is that Wallace would insist upon the juleps, and I knew not what I was either doing or saying. The Review of Dawes which I offered you was deficient in a ½ page of commencement, which I had written to supersede the old beginning, and which gave the article the character of a general & retrospective review. No wonder you did not take it - I should have been very much mortified if you had. I hope to see you at some future time, under better auspices.

In the meantime I remain.

Yours very truly

(Signed, 'EAPoe')

Should the M.S. not be accepted, please return it as soon as possible, by mail, enveloped as now.

Hi. Buckley again.

In December of 1996, two years after his debut album had begun to attract near-unanimous critical acclaim, Jeff Buckley shunned the limelight and without fanfare embarked on a 'Solo Phantom Tour' in the U.S.. Assuming various aliases throughout the month (e.g. Smackrobiotic, Topless America, The Halfspeeds), Buckley entertained a number of small crowds in intimate settings his recent success had seemingly made impossible.

A month later, Buckley wrote the following letter as way of an explanation for his fans and posted it to JeffBuckley.com. In May of that year, on the day recording of his second album was to begin, Buckley tragically drowned.

Transcript follows.

Source

Transcript

Hi. Buckley again.

The question is, "Why did he tour and not tell us where he was playing? Why why why?"

And the answer is this: There was a time in my life not too long ago when I could show up in a cafe and simply do what I do, make music, learn from performing my music, explore what it means to me, i.e.- have fun while I irritate and/or entertain an audience who doesn't know me or what I am about. In this situation I have that precious and irreplacable luxury of failure, of risk, of surrender. I worked very hard to get this kind of thing together, this work forum. I loved it then and missed it when it disappeared. All I am doing is reclaiming it. Don't worry about the phantom solo tours, they are simply my way of survival and my own method of self-assessment and recreation. If they don't happen...nothing else can. I can at least be all alone with nothing to help me, save myself. Real men maintain their freedom to suck eggs, my dear.

I'm in the middle of some wild shit right now...please be patient, I'm coming soon to a cardboard display case near you and I'm coming out of my hole and we'll make bonfires out of ticketstubs come the summer.

Merry Christmas all and a kiss for your New Year's headache.

Bye,

Jeff

One thought hits me about your letter

Eleven years after the highly influential novel The Catcher in the Rye was released, its reclusive author J. D. Salinger wrote the following letter in response to a request for writing advice by an 'angst-ridden' first-year college student. Advice was certainly present in Salinger's reply. The letter was sold at auction in 2005.

Transcript follows.

Source

Transcript

Oct. 21, 1962

Dear Mr. Stevens,

I must tell you first, offputtingly or no, that I am at best a one-shot letter writer, these days. Along with that, I really never have anything to say when I`m done writing fiction at the end of a day. One thought, and one only, hits me about your letter. Entirely "materialistic," I'm afraid. You need a new typewriter ribbon. Get one or don't get one, but unless you make an effort to deal with things as unabstractly as that, you're stewing quite unnecessarily. You've decided that Things are what matter to people. Of course. Not only with "people" but with you, too. Everything in your letter is a thing, concrete or abstract. Avidya and vidya are things. For me, before anything else, you're a young man who needs a new typewriter ribbon. See that fact, and don't attach more significance to it than it deserves, and then get on with the rest of the day. Good wishes to you.

(Signed, 'JDS')