10 Good Reasons to Write More Letters

1. Writing a letter shows that you care enough about the recipient to take a little extra effort: choosing the right stationery, handwriting the message, addressing the envelope, adorning it with an interesting stamp, and transporting it to a mailbox or post office.  All of that "work" vs. turning on your computer, dashing off an email and hitting Send. In a comment I received from Janet Aldrich, she said, "When I was in Peace Corps a few years ago - in the middle of the South African bush, an hour's walk from my post office village, I sent 1,004 pieces of mail and received nearly as many replies."              She added that everyone saved her letters.                                                                                                                                                                                                            
2. In the United States, a colorful history of mail delivery recalls the short-lived Pony Express of 1860, whose horseback riders relayed mail between St. Joseph, Missouri and Sacramento, CA, in just ten days, switching horses every 15 miles of the 1800-mile journey. Even our modern blue-suited postal people seem vaguely heroic, in light of the postal service's unofficial motto inscribed on the James Farley Post Office in New York: "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."  Note that this quote is credited to the Greek historian Herodotus, who was referring to the mounted couriers of the ancient Persian empire. Nevertheless, it seems appropriate to support this historic profession.
3. Writing a letter is a meditative act that requires introspection and intention. Thinking about what's important or interesting in your life is always a good idea. Trying to put that perspective into words enhances understanding, for both writer and reader.
   
4. Children need good modeling in the area of correspondence, and a sense of joy in writing and receiving letters. Rather than forcing young people to write letters, they could observe their parents and friends engaging in this creative act. Every young person seems born knowing how to operate a *smartypants phone or game controller, but do they know where the stamp and return address go on an envelope? (*thanks to Ramona White for this great phrase)
5. Handwriting a letter is an opportunity to practice your penmanship, or even calligraphy.
6. Creative choices abound for correspondence: handmade paper stationery, art card or picture postcard; writing implements, from quill
   
   and ink to color-changing markers; rubber stamps and stickers to embellish letter and envelope; colorful and interesting postage; even scent and glitter, should you be so inclined.                                                                                 Emoticons can't compare :(
7. A personal letter, handwritten and penned with care, can be a treasured keepsake.   Letters are meant to be read and reread, savored and saved. 
8. As writers, we can all use practice. Letter writing is an opportunity to shine as a writer, in whatever ways you like. Have fun with rhyme, get ultra descriptive, make plays on words, decorate your words with drawings. There are no rules.
9. Writing a letter is a vulnerable act, helping to create possibilities for deep connections between writer and recipient. 
   
10. If you write more letters, you will almost certainly receive more letters, and isn't that fun? 
     

What Makes a Great Letter?

What makes a great letter?

A letter doesn't need to be witty or speak great truths about life.  Letters can't always recount great adventures and daring deeds.  And a love letter doesn't have to be the greatest love letter ever written, as long as the love it expresses is true.  .

A great letter may be profound or exquisite, but it can also simply be one that was written just for you.  This letter fills you with anticipation as you remove it from the envelope and devour the words on the pages.  A great letter may simply chronicle the details of everyday life, sharing life stories.  Life letters.

In a New York Times editorial from 2011, "The Fading Art of Letter Writing", Catherine Fields wrote about her mother-in-law's letters, which she eagerly anticipates.  She writes:  "Her letter often takes four or five days to reach me but the feel of it instantly breaks through time and space.  Sitting with the letter in my hands, I immediately envision her:  There she is at the dining table, a cup of tea to her right, the radio switched off or turned down, her thoughts flowing through her fingers and onto the page."

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/04/opinion/04iht-edfield04.html?_r=1&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1350921685-0yYAsR2H7xynx9QEeon48Q&

Her mother-in-law, who had recently been widowed, writes about the weather, the kindness of neighbors, the bureaucratic hassles relating to her husband's death, the condolence letters she has received.  Writing through her grief, says the author, was an expectation for her generation ~ courtesy prescribed that such letters be written. I believe that the healing power of writing was thus preserved by social convention.  

We admire the published letters of famous people, especially when they are full of wisdom, humor or historical significance.  But we can also relish the simple correspondence that connects individuals regardless of what they write about or how well they craft their sentences.  Fields calls a handwritten letter a creative act, because it is a visual and tactile pleasure, but also because it is "a deliberate act of exposure, a form of vulnerability, because handwriting opens a window on the soul in a way that cyber communication can never do.  You savor their arrival and later take care to place them in a box for safe keeping."

All of us can write great letters.  All we need is time and intention.

Art of the Stamp

Beautiful postage stamps are like jewels, designed to grace an envelope with artistic flair. 

They tell us where in the world the letter originated, and provide an interesting record of inflation in their ever rising prices.

United States postage stamps have certainly become more varied and colorful since the '60s, when many featured American presidents, the Liberty Bell, the American flag or the Capitol in Washington, D.C., all produced with a single dull color.  A dour George Washington glared from the 5 cent stamp in the late '70s.

In 1987, this vividly colored stamp depicting a Girl Scouts sash with badges came with a letter from my friend Candace, who always seems to choose interesting postage.  Another favorite from Candace is a highly detailed mauve-colored shell called a Frilled Dogwinkle.

In the late '90s, photographic images of sports figures such as Vince Lombardi and Pop Warner were pictured on 32 cent postcard stamps, reflecting our country's idolization of sports, especially football.

Looking over my collection of letters, I see that the price of first class postage was a mere 5 cents in the '60s, up to 10 cents in the mid '70s, 13 cents in 1976, and 15 cents by the end of the decade.  Now, with first class postage at 43 cents, it's not surprising that people choose free email and text messaging for most of their communications.  It's also clear why the U.S. Postal Service had to come up with Forever stamps that can always be used for first class mail, regardless of inevitable price increases.

In 1985, stamps bearing the likenesses of composer Igor Stravinsky, Senator Henry Clay and mental health activist Dorothea Dix mingled with a series of stamps celebrating democracy on a postcard mailed for 14 cents.  The democracy series stamps pictured here read: "The ability to write - a root of democracy" and "A public that reads - a root of democracy."  Reverence for reading and writing on a stamp - I love it!

Some of my favorite stamps were affixed to letters from England, Italy, France and China.  They entice me with visions of fascinating places yet to be seen.

The art of the letter: writing from the heart, preferably by hand, on beautiful paper chosen by the writer, enclosed in an envelope and completed with a magnificent stamp.

Handwritten Treasures

Letters are a legacy of love to the ones we leave behind.

In a short talk given in 2007, Lakshmi Pratury lamented the disappearing art of letter writing, and especially of letters written by hand.  She talks of the notes her father wrote to her when he was dying: "the paper that touched his hand is in mine, and I feel connected ..." she says.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lakshmi_pratury_on_letter_writing.html

Lakshmi concedes that email has a valid role in modern life, but hopes that letter writing will never be completely replaced by electronic communication.  She values things with a personal touch, such as the journal her father wrote for and about her, books that have been autographed by their authors, and heartfelt personal letters.  I couldn't agree more!


I love the variety of handwriting in my collection of letters.  My friend Amy Bodian showed her zest for life in her exuberant penmanship and decorative borders.

I still possess the hand-painted tapestry she refers to in this letter, "for prayers or whispering cares."   I keep it on my bedside table, a tangible memory of my dear friend.  More about Amy (J.T.) Bodian in tomorrow's post!





Letters from my Papa, my mother's father Joseph Rogovoy, show the style of cursive writing that my grandparents and parents learned in school - looping, connected letters at a serious slant.  Such penmanship seems undervalued in a world where its use is rarely required any more.

Although my dad almost always typed his letters to me, he signed them by hand - with a confident "Dad" that somehow evokes his entire dimpled grin.


My late husband Emmett Chase made great use of email to send me dozens of poems and messages, and I treasure those communications from our courting days.  But Emmett was also fond of handwritten cards and notes, and he gave me many during our marriage.  It's wonderful to hold in my hands a card that he chose, to read the words that he wrote.  Those simple handwritten words help sustain Emmett's support in my life.

I know there's a science to analyzing people's handwriting, and I don't profess to know a thing about it.  I find the fact that every individual has a unique way of writing fascinating, just as I find it amazing that everyone's fingerprints are unique.
Most of all, I love knowing that someone has taken up a pen, thought about me, and made their mark on the page.

Envelope Art

Dear Reader:

Does it seem that envelopes bearing letters have become bland and boring, subjected to dozens of rules and regulations by the postal service?

When my friends and I were in grade school in the '60s, envelopes became an extension of the letter itself, a place to scribble all kinds of wisdom and advice.

Occasionally, a friend would write, "Dear Mr. Postman, Why are you reading this when you should be delivering mail?"  A better question might be, who has time to deliver the mail when there's so much to read?

In my collection of letters, fabulously decorated envelopes are the icing on the cake, sometimes as sweet as the letters themselves.  In 1977, when these letters were mailed to me in Charlotte, NC, an artistic friend used envelopes as canvas, without fear that the postman would not deliver his epistles.

My friend Amy Bodian, who called everyone JT, often decorated both her letters and envelopes with animated figures drawn with just a few lines.

Sometimes friends just seem to get carried away with colors, or with stamps and stickers.

Whatever the inspiration, envelope art is in its own category - disposable, yes, but collectible too.  Like a phonographic record album cover, it's a hint of what's to come.  Envelope art invites us to enter and read, to engage and enjoy.  It's the cherry on top.

Do you have envelopes that you've saved because they're beautiful or intriguing or special?  Please consider sharing them with me and my readers.  Email me your favorites at lwatson(at)q.com.

The Art of the Letter

Before we had telephones and cell phone text messaging, before we had personal computers with easy access to email and live chats, letter writing was essential ~ it was how we communicated everything important in our lives to those who were somewhere other than shouting distance.  Now we disparage "snail mail" as if it were akin to the Pony Express, archaic and obsolete.  But isn't there still value in the writing of letters, and in receiving them?

To write a letter, you must think about content.  What is worth writing about?  What do you care about, and what will your reader want to know?  The very act of contemplating such things is meditative and enlightening.  Letter writing seems to take us back to simpler times, said my friend Melvin, whose wonderful letters kept me encouraged and entertained during the five weeks I spent helping Mom through chemotherapy earlier this year.

The children's book The Jolly Postman by Janet and Allan Ahlberg captures another exciting aspect of letters: the anticipation of wondering what's inside the envelope, and the fun of removing the letter from its paper sleeve.

Published by Little, Brown and Co., Boston and Toronto, 1986

The story is told through letters to assorted fairy tale characters, tucked into envelopes on each page of the book.  Thank you, Ahlbergs, for reminding children that letters are to be held in our hands.  For me, holding a letter is like reading a book, with pages that beg to be turned ~ infinitely more satisfying than an electronic device can ever be.  And a tangible letter, written or typed on paper and delivered in an envelope, can be read and reread, savored and saved. 

When composing a letter, we can play with voice ~ who we are writing to determines style.  My high school friend Amy Bodian and I had a twenty-year correspondence, and her letters were exuberant, irreverent and often written in rhyme, creating words as needed a la Dr. Seuss.  She knew that I would love that.  When she died at 38 of lung cancer (a non-smoker), she left me with a cherished collection of her creative, art-filled letters.  Here's an excerpt from one, circa 1985:

     I'd like to be a fertile luscious swamp and meadow,
     flowers and bull rushes in my shadow,
     I'd like to be full of color and sound and
     to hear the water all around me resound.
     I'd like the emptiness to fill with swampy dew
     and then I'd like to sip a Mint Julep with you.
     I hope this note has found you happy at holiday time
     in your letter you sounded sublime.
     Keep me in touch without a hush,
     let us not forsake what is always ours to take:
     eternal friendship, a glowing light
     that sets us forever apart
     from those seen as passing ships only in the night. 
     Merry Xmas, happy new year,
     & may this one be the brightest of bright.  Love,
     A.B. Sleeptight