March 9, 2007
The letter
I got a letter last week. There’ s nothing terribly remarkable about that. The writer discussed a few things we have in common and mentioned a book that had turned into a struggle to read. There are mentions sociological and philosophical, and an allusion to higher purpose. The grammar and choice of vocabulary suggest someone highly literate with a love of the written word. My letter has a very personal, almost intimate feel to it. It is handwritten in a small, neatly formed print. The paper is a pale cream color, soft, feeling almost like construction paper, but not so crisp. The single sheet was folded over the writing to form its own envelope and a clear sticker sealed the flap.
The writer feels like a friend I am just beginning to to know, but this friend is so much more - and so much less. I’ve never met him. I don’t expect to, nor does he intend to meet me. If either of us has any expectations at all, they are limited to the anticipation of future correspondence. Like the penpals I had as a child, he will remain an anonymous friend, letting me know as much or as little of himself as he chooses. I may elect to do the same.
People don’t have penpals so much anymore. The modern correlary is, of course, the online friendship. My message board friends and I know each other well, share intimate details of our lives, but maintain a physical distance that, for the most part, we do not attemp to bridge. I have such friendships with a group of women I’ve visited with almost daily for six or seven years. I consider them among my closest friends. A real life meeting with any or all of them would be welcomed, but our friendships do not demand that. They are fulfilling reationships in their current form and do not need anything more to solidify them. My new friendship with the letter writer may have such a future.
What is remarkable about this budding friendship is the way it started. I was cruising around the net, killing time between various chores, and stumbled upon* him. His web page fascinated me. It is dedicated to his love of handwritten correspondence. He doesn’t provide research for historical documents or photos of celebrity letters. His focus is personal. He admits that he is obsessive about writing letters. The entire purpose of his site is to find people who are interested in receiving letters from him. My first thought was that he could not seriously expect a significant response to such a request. We’re savvy enough, and cautious enough, to know better than to share our personal information with strangers who cross our paths online. There was a sincerity to his plea, though, that drew me in. Sure, he could be a very skillful con man, I thought, but I want to believe that he’s not. So I sent him an email, recognizing the irony at play in this first contact. I told a little about my life and probably too much about my attitude concerning the loss of what I called “the fine things,” including handwritten letters. Our lives have become so hurried and so dependent upon the instant gratification of the electronic media that we just don’t bother anymore with finely crafted, well thought-out handwritten correspondence. I myself, while proclaiming their superiority, rarely send handwritten letters anymore. It’s become too much bother. It’s so much easier to dash off an email, without a great deal of thought or effort. I told the letter writer about the joy I once took in his craft and asked if he would send me a letter.
I haven’t written back to my new friend yet. I want to. I’ve tried to think it out and have not come up with something to say. Perhaps if I just sit down and get started, some thoughts worth sharing will come to me. There’s the whole handwriting problem, though. Mine is not a fine penmanship, having grown more than a little sloppy over the years. The prospect of exposing that to this man with his neat hand is intimidating. Still, I want this play to go on to whatever the next act might be. So, one day soon I’ll find a quiet moment, some worthy paper and a pen that doesn’t leak or skip. I’ll send a letter to my new friend. I’ll mail it and hope that it will bring him some small measure of the joy that his own effort has brought me.
If you, too, find yourself fascinated withThe Letter Project, go visit my friend. Ask him to send you a letter. I’m pretty sure he’s not an ax murderer.
* I found The Letter Project through StumbleUpon, a random-selection web service. I’ve found a lot of good sites that way. Check it out.
[tags]letters, penpals[/tags]
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March 10th, 2007 at 10:16 am, Whim Says:
I have plenty of email pals but no actual pen-pals for years. I’ll have to go check his site. Have a great weekend!
March 10th, 2007 at 11:05 am, Adam Says:
I can relate to your dilemma. My handwriting is terrible. Have got so much used to typing that writing on paper with pen seems so foreign.
March 10th, 2007 at 11:11 pm, hyphen_eight Says:
I had a bunch of international penpals when I was a kid - I think there were lists in the newspaper - but I hardly write letters any more either unless there’s something physical I need to send with them.
On the other hand, I think letterfolds are cool, and they’re also handy for gift tags and hand-delivered notes. If you want to send an envelope-less letter back to your letter-writing friend, here are some resources:
Preprinted sheets - http://www.letterfu.com/
and for more variety:
http://www.ghh.com/elf/
March 11th, 2007 at 10:26 am, skeet Says:
Hah! These are great! If I make the fold impressive enough, maybe my handwring flaws will have a lower impact!
March 12th, 2007 at 1:28 pm, Skeet's Stuff Says:
[…] update has been posted for your reading […]
March 14th, 2007 at 12:51 am, Lakshmi Says:
Beautiful post.
There is a special thrill associated with opening a paper letter, seeing the hand writing, and reading the sometimes illegible words in the paper.
We have lost the art of writing letters (we blog instead
I often think I should write a good old letter to someone, but soon realize that my addressbook does not have a single postal address, but only email ids and cell phone numbers.
March 18th, 2007 at 7:21 am, Deb Says:
I used to penpal, and had friends that I wrote back and forth with for years…and then I got a computer, and I stopped handwriting letters…seems a shame, now that I think of it.