Dear Saira Rao,
So, I just finished your novel Chambermaid, and I must say, after all of my wishing and hoping that someone would fictionalize the life and times of a Federal clerk, your book has answered my prayers. Now, whether the rest of the legal community, let alone the general public, feel as I do, remains to be seen.
This said, I have a few questions/comments for you:
First, was the whole cheating-Pakistani-boyfriend-part a personal statement against arraigned marriage? If so, well played. I can sort of relate; some of my best friends have faced the same issue (with heart-wrenching consequences, I might add).
Second, did you happen to get a call from Judge Sloviter wherein she asked, "WTF?" Have other former or current clerks reached out to you to compare notes and sympathize with your experience?
I obviously understand and identify with your need to creatively vent on the on-goings of work-life. Law clerks tend to bond together but when, as in your case, the bonding process is plagued by difficult co-workers and a nightmare Judge, it can be difficult. I know, sister. I am right there with you. However, I just wonder what made you break the bonds of Law Clerk secrecy? I suppose you never intend to practice law again, right?
We are entrusted by our Judges (love em or hate em) to respect their privacy, and I hope that this trust is a two-way street. I mean, I think it is clear from your book that you felt trust on her part was clearly not present. I wonder, though, if your "real life" experience was worse that the book? Because if it was not, as I am inclined to think, I wonder if your account (albeit fictionalized) does not somehow sever that trust? And I am not talking about the narrative relating to how cases are reviewed and reports are drafted, as I think that those processes should be as transparent as possible. I am talking about your portrayal of the Judge as a person who did not seem equipped to take action when her demented husband is standing in a deli, in downtown Philadelphia, in his underwear, and in the middle of winter.
I, too, often wonder what goes too far here, but I am also not publishing a book, and setting it in a particular city at a certain court. I suppose that you reached a point where you knew you never wanted to practice again and so, sacrificed your career in law for one as a writer. I use "sacrifice" because I am just not sure if the legal community at large would respect your choices.
Lastly, and irrespective of the foregoing, I really did enjoy your book (far, far more than the ghastly "Ivy Briefs" (Book Brief forthcoming!) that I picked up at the same time), and it certainly gave me a bit to think about. I look forward to your next novel...
Cheers!
C. Erroneous
So, I just finished your novel Chambermaid, and I must say, after all of my wishing and hoping that someone would fictionalize the life and times of a Federal clerk, your book has answered my prayers. Now, whether the rest of the legal community, let alone the general public, feel as I do, remains to be seen.
This said, I have a few questions/comments for you:
First, was the whole cheating-Pakistani-boyfriend-part a personal statement against arraigned marriage? If so, well played. I can sort of relate; some of my best friends have faced the same issue (with heart-wrenching consequences, I might add).
Second, did you happen to get a call from Judge Sloviter wherein she asked, "WTF?" Have other former or current clerks reached out to you to compare notes and sympathize with your experience?
I obviously understand and identify with your need to creatively vent on the on-goings of work-life. Law clerks tend to bond together but when, as in your case, the bonding process is plagued by difficult co-workers and a nightmare Judge, it can be difficult. I know, sister. I am right there with you. However, I just wonder what made you break the bonds of Law Clerk secrecy? I suppose you never intend to practice law again, right?
We are entrusted by our Judges (love em or hate em) to respect their privacy, and I hope that this trust is a two-way street. I mean, I think it is clear from your book that you felt trust on her part was clearly not present. I wonder, though, if your "real life" experience was worse that the book? Because if it was not, as I am inclined to think, I wonder if your account (albeit fictionalized) does not somehow sever that trust? And I am not talking about the narrative relating to how cases are reviewed and reports are drafted, as I think that those processes should be as transparent as possible. I am talking about your portrayal of the Judge as a person who did not seem equipped to take action when her demented husband is standing in a deli, in downtown Philadelphia, in his underwear, and in the middle of winter.
I, too, often wonder what goes too far here, but I am also not publishing a book, and setting it in a particular city at a certain court. I suppose that you reached a point where you knew you never wanted to practice again and so, sacrificed your career in law for one as a writer. I use "sacrifice" because I am just not sure if the legal community at large would respect your choices.
Lastly, and irrespective of the foregoing, I really did enjoy your book (far, far more than the ghastly "Ivy Briefs" (Book Brief forthcoming!) that I picked up at the same time), and it certainly gave me a bit to think about. I look forward to your next novel...
Cheers!
C. Erroneous
