Dear Miss Austen,
Happy birthday to you! I hope you find the afterlife to your liking. Do they serve tea up there, I wonder? Do they have books and do you still read them? More importantly, do you still write? Have they got pen and paper there, or do they have other means of communication and expression? I’ve always wondered about that. If so, you must have written hundreds of novels by now. Two hundred years, after all, is a very long time. Or does time pass at all where you are at?
I am most eager to meet your acquaintance, when my time comes. I mean to say, you will be one of the first persons I will seek out in heaven once I get there, assuming I do go there. I hope so. How shall I greet you? Shall I bow, kiss your hand, or shake it? I’m not certain which greeting is more proper. Please don’t turn me out if you will find any fault in my manners. I’ve heard you are a very good judge of character, and can sometimes be frank, if not harsh, in expressing your disapproval if a person is wanting in sense, wit, or virtue.
I wish you joy today. Do give my regards to your family.
Yours, etc. etc.