Dear Ms. Burges:
Thank you for sharing your proposal for Wutherton: An Emily Brontë Musical with us. While we found the idea intriguing, we’re not convinced that audiences will respond to a “consumptive schoolmarm whose severe exterior conceals a talent for hip-hop throwdowns.” The fact that said throwdowns are “almost, but not entirely, about moors” did not add to the project’s appeal. We regret that we must say no to this misguided endeavor, though we wish you the best of luck.
Dear Ms. Burges:
While we read your lyric sheet for “Buns and Shifts” with interest, we think any director would be hard-pressed to cast a Heathcliff who can deliver lines at a rate of 6.3 words per second, particularly when those lines pertain to 18th-century hairstyles and undergarments. It would likely be impossible to do so while also “digging up the corpse of his doomed lover and snuggling it like one of those massive Costco teddy bears.”
Also, lyrics such as, “Heathcliff! / I’m diggin’ up a grave in the rains / Too tortured and angry to care about stains / Heathcliff! / And I’m never gonna stop until I make ‘em drop / dirt and earth over both of our remains / Heathcliff! / Watch me engagin’ ‘em! Escapin’ ‘em! Enragin’ ‘em! ow / Heathcliff! / Cathy turned me down for more funds / Heathcliff! / Onto the moors I must run” may well be narratively consistent, but they are also decidedly creepy. And possibly plagiaristic.
Dear Ms. Burges:
As a fellow English major whose dissertation on this subject remains shelved somewhere in a closet at my alma mater, I must express my disappointment at your musical’s depiction of Anne Brontë. Your song, “The Brontë Sisters,” could have corrected history’s underappreciation for Anne’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Instead, you tack on her introduction thusly: “It’s EMILY! And CHARLOTTE!… and Anne [all cast members roll their eyes].”
Emily’s refrain that she’s “lookin’ for a mind that broods… I’m lookin’ for a mind that broods” centers yet another narrative on Emily alone. And it does so despite your otherwise correct observation that “literature is happening… and we three… just happen to be… surrounded by a lot of moors, shitloads of heather-coated moors.”
I hold this truth to be self-evident: all Brontës were created equal. While I considered offering an opportunity for you to revise and resubmit, I just didn’t fall in love, so I’m going to step aside to let you find an agent who is as ignorant about Anne as you are.
Dear Ms. Burges:
We sent a copy of your proposal to the person who called imitation “the sincerest form of flattery.” They have since retracted their claim.
Mr. Ellis Bell
ellis.bell@pseudonym.com
Dear Mr. Bell:
We were thrilled to receive your proposal for Wutherton. We are in awe of the fact that you, a completely unknown male poet from the Yorkshire countryside, can write such sick rhymes about the literary bonds between three sisters raised by a widowed curate and a spinster aunt. We’re in love with the whole project — especially the moors, my God, so dark and broody! — and we can’t wait to find it a home.
Do you have any other projects you could send us — maybe something about a sexually repressed governess?
Excitedly yours,
THE AGENCY