Once upon a time, not all that long ago, an unnamed archeologist found a bundle of letters of indeterminate age in an unknown location. The letters had been written by Sleeping Beauty and were addressed to her prince. It is not yet clear whether all the letters she wrote to him have been found. Further research is currently being conducted as to where they came from, how old they are, and whether some letters are still missing. The complete, unedited text of all the letters is included below. Readers can immerse themselves fully in the world according to Sleeping Beauty.
The goose quill feels awkward in my grasp. Only now, after sleeping for ninety-nine years, has it occurred to me to write to you. I’ll start by saying that I’m thinking of you and that I love you. There are so many reasons why, but I still have lots of letters to go. I’ll write you a letter every day for a whole year… Until you’re with me.
People call me Sleeping Beauty. A virginal princess with a lily-white complexion, lying on her bed with her eyes closed, waiting for the kiss that will wake her from her sleep.
Yes, that’s me. And now I’m sitting at my desk writing. Sometimes I read, have a little chat with my servants, or play a bit with Miss, my little dog. And every day I pace back and forth in my chamber at the top of the tower and ask myself: Is my castle impossible to reach?
Shall I tell you about my tower chamber? Or my dog? What would you like to hear about? It’s often very quiet in my room here. I love that silence. I hear the sounds of the outside world off in the distance; it feels very safe to sit here and wait for you calmly… But there’s part of me that simply can’t settle down. I have so much I want to say to you, but I can’t find the right words. I imagine you, tired from the trip, possibly wet to the skin from riding through the rain, folding open my letter. It’s twilight and you struggle to make out the words. Sleeping Beauty, you think to yourself. A letter from Sleeping Beauty. You’re worried that the rain dripping from your soaked hair will blur the ink. You squint at the page. What has she written there? Sweet Prince, I’m writing that I don’t want to be writing to you. I’m writing that I would rather hold you. Kiss you. Finally take you in my arms. That I want to be able to ask you about your journey and then hear you tell me all about it. I’ll listen quietly, because I want to hear every detail. I want to know everything. What did you go through on your travels? How did it make you feel? Your voice might break sometimes, when you tell about the hardest parts of your journey. And then I’ll lay my hand on yours. Because I understand. That moment hasn’t arrived yet, which is why I’m writing to you.
It’s snowing outside. Glittering snowflakes crystalized into the most ingenious shapes clump together, draping a white blanket over the countryside. As if the land were sleeping and needs to be kissed awake as well. The cold pushes its way in through the small windows and I’ve thrown a shawl around my shoulders. Miss, my little white fluffball, is lying by my feet. I want to write to you about my lingering wait. I’ve been waiting for you for ninety-nine years and three days now. Over this extended time, I’ve grown and matured. I’m almost ready for love, just as the world is almost ready to throw off the blanket of snow that covers it. But waiting wasn’t always easy. Waiting. It sounds passive. You sit, or lie down, do nothing, and wait. But that’s not what it is. Waiting is also learning to be silent while you have so much to say. Waiting is sitting still when you want to burst out. It’s a constant exercise in self-control. Once you’ve reached this perfect state of self-mastery, the silence drenching every part of your being, then speaking and writing have become superfluous. I’m not that far gone yet, so I’d like to share some things with you. It won’t always be easy to hear, but I want to tell you something about women. And about the world. And about love. I’ll choose my words carefully, imbuing them with the intent to sooth your soul. Remember that.
This is how 'The world according to Sleeping Beauty' begins. Lots of letters will follow and you will be surprised of everything she has on her mind and the things she will do. Intrigued? Please contact me.