Andrea here, taking a break from research (though I’ve been diving into some really interesting things of which you’ll be hearing soon) to muse on mindfulness and connecting the brain to something other than a machine.
I have been thinking about this lately as I take my daily “plotting walk,” which helps me unwind as I just let my thoughts wander. It’s amazing how often good ideas or the unraveling of plot knots happen when you turn off all the 
noise in your head and take the time to look and listen to Nature. There’s an elemental delight in spotting a leaf shaped like a heart, or a sea-washed feather on the beach—that sense of discovery and wonder is a special reminder to stay connected to real world, not just the devices that have become such a dominant force in our everyday lives.
More and more, I’ve been noticing that other walkers are on their cellphones. Yak, yak, yak—their attention totally focused on the conversation rather than observing the light on the harbor water or the sound of the breeze ruffling through the newborn spring leaves. And on the lovely benches facing out over Long Island Sound, people are sitting hunched over and texting . . .
Bear with me, I know I’m wandering, but thinking about this also got me to musing about how we communicate, and the lost art of letterwriting. Take, for example, Jane Austen. She was a prodigious letterwriter, many of them to her sister Cassandra:
"I have now attained the true art of letter-writing, which we are always told, is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth . . .”
Ah, but somehow I can’t imagine Austen ever wrote “How RU?” or “LOL!” When one sits down with paper and pen to write an actual letter, it seems to trigger different wiring in the brain than when one taps a keyboard. (This, I believe, is a medical fact.) I know I become more thoughtful, and feel paper demands that I take time to choose my words and description more carefully, even for very mundane things.
“What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps one in a continual state of inelegance.”
Isn’t that a lovely sentence? It’s so simple and yet so evocative. And then there’s the challenge of humor, which isn’t always easy to capture on paper. This little snippet from Austen made me laugh aloud. Somehow, it’s so much richer than saying “Breakfast sucked.”
“I can recollect nothing more to say at present; perhaps breakfast may assist my ideas. I was deceived — my breakfast supplied only two ideas — that the rolls were good and the butter bad.”
And then there is cleverness. More Austen:
“You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.”
“We are to have a tiny party here tonight. I hate tiny parties, they force one into constant exertion.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I find very few tweets or text contain a pithy way with words. Is it because it's so easy and quick to type? That delay between thought and moving your hand over paper—that commitment of ink that can’t be deleted or cut and pasted—seems to demand more “respect” for your chosen words. They are there, preserved on paper forever! (Yes, I know our digital communications are supposedly floating forever in the ether, too, but they don’t seem to have the same gravitas.)
I really miss getting real letters. There something very special about opening the envelope—a sense of anticipation?—and then unfolding the paper and seeing a distinctive handwriting. Just the shape of the penned letters can trigger all sorts of emotions as you recognize who it’s from. Sometimes the paper even carries a faint scent. The act of reading—touching, feeling the letter as something real—also gives it a tangible dimension. And then you can put it in a drawer, to take out and re-read over and over again with the same tactile pleasure.
So that’s my (curmudgeonly) thoughts for the day. What about you? Do you like receiving letters? Do you take the time to write them? Do feel they are more special than e-mails or texts?
I was writing letters to my grandmother even before I knew how to write. My grandma lived in another state, and when my mother wrote to her, she would hand me a pencil and paper and tell me to write to her also. I think my mother’s main goal was to keep me quiet so she could concentrate on what she wanted to say. I would fill the paper with scribbles and then my mom would enclose it with her letter. My grandma always sent a note for me when she answered my mom. I loved running to the mailbox to see if there was a letter.
I wrote my grandmother many letters over the years. I’m glad those years were before twitter. No tweet could ever contain the heartfelt love and emotions those letters had.
I was writing letters to my grandmother even before I knew how to write. My grandma lived in another state, and when my mother wrote to her, she would hand me a pencil and paper and tell me to write to her also. I think my mother’s main goal was to keep me quiet so she could concentrate on what she wanted to say. I would fill the paper with scribbles and then my mom would enclose it with her letter. My grandma always sent a note for me when she answered my mom. I loved running to the mailbox to see if there was a letter.
I wrote my grandmother many letters over the years. I’m glad those years were before twitter. No tweet could ever contain the heartfelt love and emotions those letters had.
I was writing letters to my grandmother even before I knew how to write. My grandma lived in another state, and when my mother wrote to her, she would hand me a pencil and paper and tell me to write to her also. I think my mother’s main goal was to keep me quiet so she could concentrate on what she wanted to say. I would fill the paper with scribbles and then my mom would enclose it with her letter. My grandma always sent a note for me when she answered my mom. I loved running to the mailbox to see if there was a letter.
I wrote my grandmother many letters over the years. I’m glad those years were before twitter. No tweet could ever contain the heartfelt love and emotions those letters had.
I was writing letters to my grandmother even before I knew how to write. My grandma lived in another state, and when my mother wrote to her, she would hand me a pencil and paper and tell me to write to her also. I think my mother’s main goal was to keep me quiet so she could concentrate on what she wanted to say. I would fill the paper with scribbles and then my mom would enclose it with her letter. My grandma always sent a note for me when she answered my mom. I loved running to the mailbox to see if there was a letter.
I wrote my grandmother many letters over the years. I’m glad those years were before twitter. No tweet could ever contain the heartfelt love and emotions those letters had.
I was writing letters to my grandmother even before I knew how to write. My grandma lived in another state, and when my mother wrote to her, she would hand me a pencil and paper and tell me to write to her also. I think my mother’s main goal was to keep me quiet so she could concentrate on what she wanted to say. I would fill the paper with scribbles and then my mom would enclose it with her letter. My grandma always sent a note for me when she answered my mom. I loved running to the mailbox to see if there was a letter.
I wrote my grandmother many letters over the years. I’m glad those years were before twitter. No tweet could ever contain the heartfelt love and emotions those letters had.
Once again, Austen Rules! It’s true that writing by hand stirs different neurons and creativity. Both have their place–but with typing, people can actually read what I have to say. *G*
Once again, Austen Rules! It’s true that writing by hand stirs different neurons and creativity. Both have their place–but with typing, people can actually read what I have to say. *G*
Once again, Austen Rules! It’s true that writing by hand stirs different neurons and creativity. Both have their place–but with typing, people can actually read what I have to say. *G*
Once again, Austen Rules! It’s true that writing by hand stirs different neurons and creativity. Both have their place–but with typing, people can actually read what I have to say. *G*
Once again, Austen Rules! It’s true that writing by hand stirs different neurons and creativity. Both have their place–but with typing, people can actually read what I have to say. *G*
I do a lot of computer planning by writing notes on quarter-sized clean-on-one-side paper, I keep just for that purpose. When I believe I have my thoughts organized, I turn these into a computer document (which usually requires lots more thinking and editorial work before I’m satisfied).
I believe that the writing by hand focuses my mind; but I NEED the sort of input you get on a word processor in order to get a “finished” product that my copy-editing mind approves of. I was born for the word processor — I just needed to wait 50 years before one appeared in my life.
Similarly, I prefer email to snail-mail. I prefer the quick response. (But again, I have usually COMPOSED the email by hand.)
I do a lot of computer planning by writing notes on quarter-sized clean-on-one-side paper, I keep just for that purpose. When I believe I have my thoughts organized, I turn these into a computer document (which usually requires lots more thinking and editorial work before I’m satisfied).
I believe that the writing by hand focuses my mind; but I NEED the sort of input you get on a word processor in order to get a “finished” product that my copy-editing mind approves of. I was born for the word processor — I just needed to wait 50 years before one appeared in my life.
Similarly, I prefer email to snail-mail. I prefer the quick response. (But again, I have usually COMPOSED the email by hand.)
I do a lot of computer planning by writing notes on quarter-sized clean-on-one-side paper, I keep just for that purpose. When I believe I have my thoughts organized, I turn these into a computer document (which usually requires lots more thinking and editorial work before I’m satisfied).
I believe that the writing by hand focuses my mind; but I NEED the sort of input you get on a word processor in order to get a “finished” product that my copy-editing mind approves of. I was born for the word processor — I just needed to wait 50 years before one appeared in my life.
Similarly, I prefer email to snail-mail. I prefer the quick response. (But again, I have usually COMPOSED the email by hand.)
I do a lot of computer planning by writing notes on quarter-sized clean-on-one-side paper, I keep just for that purpose. When I believe I have my thoughts organized, I turn these into a computer document (which usually requires lots more thinking and editorial work before I’m satisfied).
I believe that the writing by hand focuses my mind; but I NEED the sort of input you get on a word processor in order to get a “finished” product that my copy-editing mind approves of. I was born for the word processor — I just needed to wait 50 years before one appeared in my life.
Similarly, I prefer email to snail-mail. I prefer the quick response. (But again, I have usually COMPOSED the email by hand.)
I do a lot of computer planning by writing notes on quarter-sized clean-on-one-side paper, I keep just for that purpose. When I believe I have my thoughts organized, I turn these into a computer document (which usually requires lots more thinking and editorial work before I’m satisfied).
I believe that the writing by hand focuses my mind; but I NEED the sort of input you get on a word processor in order to get a “finished” product that my copy-editing mind approves of. I was born for the word processor — I just needed to wait 50 years before one appeared in my life.
Similarly, I prefer email to snail-mail. I prefer the quick response. (But again, I have usually COMPOSED the email by hand.)
Isn’t that sense of anticipation when you go to the mailbox nice? I cherish a number of letters I’ve received over the years. They do feel more meaningful than tweets or texts.
Isn’t that sense of anticipation when you go to the mailbox nice? I cherish a number of letters I’ve received over the years. They do feel more meaningful than tweets or texts.
Isn’t that sense of anticipation when you go to the mailbox nice? I cherish a number of letters I’ve received over the years. They do feel more meaningful than tweets or texts.
Isn’t that sense of anticipation when you go to the mailbox nice? I cherish a number of letters I’ve received over the years. They do feel more meaningful than tweets or texts.
Isn’t that sense of anticipation when you go to the mailbox nice? I cherish a number of letters I’ve received over the years. They do feel more meaningful than tweets or texts.
Yes, for writing books, word processing is a godsend as I’m slightly dyslexic. And I’m constantly tinkering with sentences, so handwritten version get incomprehensible. But letters really should be handwritten. They really do sound different when they are created with pen and paper.
Yes, for writing books, word processing is a godsend as I’m slightly dyslexic. And I’m constantly tinkering with sentences, so handwritten version get incomprehensible. But letters really should be handwritten. They really do sound different when they are created with pen and paper.
Yes, for writing books, word processing is a godsend as I’m slightly dyslexic. And I’m constantly tinkering with sentences, so handwritten version get incomprehensible. But letters really should be handwritten. They really do sound different when they are created with pen and paper.
Yes, for writing books, word processing is a godsend as I’m slightly dyslexic. And I’m constantly tinkering with sentences, so handwritten version get incomprehensible. But letters really should be handwritten. They really do sound different when they are created with pen and paper.
Yes, for writing books, word processing is a godsend as I’m slightly dyslexic. And I’m constantly tinkering with sentences, so handwritten version get incomprehensible. But letters really should be handwritten. They really do sound different when they are created with pen and paper.
Sue, that’s a really good point about composing a final document. Word processing does help in that respect. And yes, e-mail is a great way for quick communication, and the fact that you compose them by hand gives you the best of both worlds!
Sue, that’s a really good point about composing a final document. Word processing does help in that respect. And yes, e-mail is a great way for quick communication, and the fact that you compose them by hand gives you the best of both worlds!
Sue, that’s a really good point about composing a final document. Word processing does help in that respect. And yes, e-mail is a great way for quick communication, and the fact that you compose them by hand gives you the best of both worlds!
Sue, that’s a really good point about composing a final document. Word processing does help in that respect. And yes, e-mail is a great way for quick communication, and the fact that you compose them by hand gives you the best of both worlds!
Sue, that’s a really good point about composing a final document. Word processing does help in that respect. And yes, e-mail is a great way for quick communication, and the fact that you compose them by hand gives you the best of both worlds!
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I fell in love with a beautiful lady. Communicating by letter, deliberating over every word, and even inspired to attempt a little original poetry, was a most romantic, rewarding and exciting experience. I think that something of this may be lost in this high tech age of instant communication. The hand written letter should definitely be the de rigueur way to communicate with a loved one … as long as it is legible of course! 😊
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I fell in love with a beautiful lady. Communicating by letter, deliberating over every word, and even inspired to attempt a little original poetry, was a most romantic, rewarding and exciting experience. I think that something of this may be lost in this high tech age of instant communication. The hand written letter should definitely be the de rigueur way to communicate with a loved one … as long as it is legible of course! 😊
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I fell in love with a beautiful lady. Communicating by letter, deliberating over every word, and even inspired to attempt a little original poetry, was a most romantic, rewarding and exciting experience. I think that something of this may be lost in this high tech age of instant communication. The hand written letter should definitely be the de rigueur way to communicate with a loved one … as long as it is legible of course! 😊
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I fell in love with a beautiful lady. Communicating by letter, deliberating over every word, and even inspired to attempt a little original poetry, was a most romantic, rewarding and exciting experience. I think that something of this may be lost in this high tech age of instant communication. The hand written letter should definitely be the de rigueur way to communicate with a loved one … as long as it is legible of course! 😊
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I fell in love with a beautiful lady. Communicating by letter, deliberating over every word, and even inspired to attempt a little original poetry, was a most romantic, rewarding and exciting experience. I think that something of this may be lost in this high tech age of instant communication. The hand written letter should definitely be the de rigueur way to communicate with a loved one … as long as it is legible of course! 😊
Your correspondence sounds wonderfully romantic, Quantum. My favourite aunt and uncle fell in love by letter — he was a friend of my father’s and they were at war, overseas. And when my aunt and uncle finally met, they were already part-way in love, and the meeting only confirmed it.
Apparently my father also wrote long poetic letters to my mother while he was away. They’d already fallen in love, but the letters were something to treasure — on both their sides.
Your correspondence sounds wonderfully romantic, Quantum. My favourite aunt and uncle fell in love by letter — he was a friend of my father’s and they were at war, overseas. And when my aunt and uncle finally met, they were already part-way in love, and the meeting only confirmed it.
Apparently my father also wrote long poetic letters to my mother while he was away. They’d already fallen in love, but the letters were something to treasure — on both their sides.
Your correspondence sounds wonderfully romantic, Quantum. My favourite aunt and uncle fell in love by letter — he was a friend of my father’s and they were at war, overseas. And when my aunt and uncle finally met, they were already part-way in love, and the meeting only confirmed it.
Apparently my father also wrote long poetic letters to my mother while he was away. They’d already fallen in love, but the letters were something to treasure — on both their sides.
Your correspondence sounds wonderfully romantic, Quantum. My favourite aunt and uncle fell in love by letter — he was a friend of my father’s and they were at war, overseas. And when my aunt and uncle finally met, they were already part-way in love, and the meeting only confirmed it.
Apparently my father also wrote long poetic letters to my mother while he was away. They’d already fallen in love, but the letters were something to treasure — on both their sides.
Your correspondence sounds wonderfully romantic, Quantum. My favourite aunt and uncle fell in love by letter — he was a friend of my father’s and they were at war, overseas. And when my aunt and uncle finally met, they were already part-way in love, and the meeting only confirmed it.
Apparently my father also wrote long poetic letters to my mother while he was away. They’d already fallen in love, but the letters were something to treasure — on both their sides.
Lovely blog, Andrea. I’m with you on not understanding people who get out and about in nature and then block out the sounds with ear-buds or stare at their phones all the time. A few months back I was down at the creek near me in the evening, and there was a bench, so I sat for a while and listened to the water burbling through the stones, and the breeze in the leaves, and all the different birds getting ready for the night, while my dog happily nosed around finding all kinds of exciting smells.
A young man wearing earbuds came and sat down beside me. He smiled and nodded and we sat in silence for a while. I could hear some kind of talk coming from his earbuds, and he kept nodding thoughtfully, as if agreeing. After a while I asked him what he was listening to. He pulled out an earbud saying “What?” So I repeated the question. “It’s a podcast on mindfulness” he told me. “Really awesome.” And he plugged himself back in, blocking out the sounds all around him.
Lovely blog, Andrea. I’m with you on not understanding people who get out and about in nature and then block out the sounds with ear-buds or stare at their phones all the time. A few months back I was down at the creek near me in the evening, and there was a bench, so I sat for a while and listened to the water burbling through the stones, and the breeze in the leaves, and all the different birds getting ready for the night, while my dog happily nosed around finding all kinds of exciting smells.
A young man wearing earbuds came and sat down beside me. He smiled and nodded and we sat in silence for a while. I could hear some kind of talk coming from his earbuds, and he kept nodding thoughtfully, as if agreeing. After a while I asked him what he was listening to. He pulled out an earbud saying “What?” So I repeated the question. “It’s a podcast on mindfulness” he told me. “Really awesome.” And he plugged himself back in, blocking out the sounds all around him.
Lovely blog, Andrea. I’m with you on not understanding people who get out and about in nature and then block out the sounds with ear-buds or stare at their phones all the time. A few months back I was down at the creek near me in the evening, and there was a bench, so I sat for a while and listened to the water burbling through the stones, and the breeze in the leaves, and all the different birds getting ready for the night, while my dog happily nosed around finding all kinds of exciting smells.
A young man wearing earbuds came and sat down beside me. He smiled and nodded and we sat in silence for a while. I could hear some kind of talk coming from his earbuds, and he kept nodding thoughtfully, as if agreeing. After a while I asked him what he was listening to. He pulled out an earbud saying “What?” So I repeated the question. “It’s a podcast on mindfulness” he told me. “Really awesome.” And he plugged himself back in, blocking out the sounds all around him.
Lovely blog, Andrea. I’m with you on not understanding people who get out and about in nature and then block out the sounds with ear-buds or stare at their phones all the time. A few months back I was down at the creek near me in the evening, and there was a bench, so I sat for a while and listened to the water burbling through the stones, and the breeze in the leaves, and all the different birds getting ready for the night, while my dog happily nosed around finding all kinds of exciting smells.
A young man wearing earbuds came and sat down beside me. He smiled and nodded and we sat in silence for a while. I could hear some kind of talk coming from his earbuds, and he kept nodding thoughtfully, as if agreeing. After a while I asked him what he was listening to. He pulled out an earbud saying “What?” So I repeated the question. “It’s a podcast on mindfulness” he told me. “Really awesome.” And he plugged himself back in, blocking out the sounds all around him.
Lovely blog, Andrea. I’m with you on not understanding people who get out and about in nature and then block out the sounds with ear-buds or stare at their phones all the time. A few months back I was down at the creek near me in the evening, and there was a bench, so I sat for a while and listened to the water burbling through the stones, and the breeze in the leaves, and all the different birds getting ready for the night, while my dog happily nosed around finding all kinds of exciting smells.
A young man wearing earbuds came and sat down beside me. He smiled and nodded and we sat in silence for a while. I could hear some kind of talk coming from his earbuds, and he kept nodding thoughtfully, as if agreeing. After a while I asked him what he was listening to. He pulled out an earbud saying “What?” So I repeated the question. “It’s a podcast on mindfulness” he told me. “Really awesome.” And he plugged himself back in, blocking out the sounds all around him.
Oh, the irony, Anne!
Oh, the irony, Anne!
Oh, the irony, Anne!
Oh, the irony, Anne!
Oh, the irony, Anne!
I send text messages and emails as well as postcards, birthday cards, sympathy cards, and letters. They all have their place, but I agree that there is nothing quite like getting a letter.
My parents saved a stack of letters I wrote when I spent several weeks in France as a teenager as well as some letters I sent while in college. I have a very poor memory,so it would be interesting to reread them and become reacquainted with a FAR younger me.
I send text messages and emails as well as postcards, birthday cards, sympathy cards, and letters. They all have their place, but I agree that there is nothing quite like getting a letter.
My parents saved a stack of letters I wrote when I spent several weeks in France as a teenager as well as some letters I sent while in college. I have a very poor memory,so it would be interesting to reread them and become reacquainted with a FAR younger me.
I send text messages and emails as well as postcards, birthday cards, sympathy cards, and letters. They all have their place, but I agree that there is nothing quite like getting a letter.
My parents saved a stack of letters I wrote when I spent several weeks in France as a teenager as well as some letters I sent while in college. I have a very poor memory,so it would be interesting to reread them and become reacquainted with a FAR younger me.
I send text messages and emails as well as postcards, birthday cards, sympathy cards, and letters. They all have their place, but I agree that there is nothing quite like getting a letter.
My parents saved a stack of letters I wrote when I spent several weeks in France as a teenager as well as some letters I sent while in college. I have a very poor memory,so it would be interesting to reread them and become reacquainted with a FAR younger me.
I send text messages and emails as well as postcards, birthday cards, sympathy cards, and letters. They all have their place, but I agree that there is nothing quite like getting a letter.
My parents saved a stack of letters I wrote when I spent several weeks in France as a teenager as well as some letters I sent while in college. I have a very poor memory,so it would be interesting to reread them and become reacquainted with a FAR younger me.
What a lovely ode to letterwriting, Quantum. Yes, I think a letter from a loved is one of the most beautiful things one can receive. As you say, the time taken to craft an expression of feelings with ink and paper transcends anything the digital age can offer. There’s just something about holding a real handwritten letter (sorry, printing out an e-mail doesn’t count!)
What a lovely ode to letterwriting, Quantum. Yes, I think a letter from a loved is one of the most beautiful things one can receive. As you say, the time taken to craft an expression of feelings with ink and paper transcends anything the digital age can offer. There’s just something about holding a real handwritten letter (sorry, printing out an e-mail doesn’t count!)
What a lovely ode to letterwriting, Quantum. Yes, I think a letter from a loved is one of the most beautiful things one can receive. As you say, the time taken to craft an expression of feelings with ink and paper transcends anything the digital age can offer. There’s just something about holding a real handwritten letter (sorry, printing out an e-mail doesn’t count!)
What a lovely ode to letterwriting, Quantum. Yes, I think a letter from a loved is one of the most beautiful things one can receive. As you say, the time taken to craft an expression of feelings with ink and paper transcends anything the digital age can offer. There’s just something about holding a real handwritten letter (sorry, printing out an e-mail doesn’t count!)
What a lovely ode to letterwriting, Quantum. Yes, I think a letter from a loved is one of the most beautiful things one can receive. As you say, the time taken to craft an expression of feelings with ink and paper transcends anything the digital age can offer. There’s just something about holding a real handwritten letter (sorry, printing out an e-mail doesn’t count!)
Honestly, you can’t make that stuff up!
I’m just like you. I love watch the light on the water, and listen to the surf against rocks and the sounds of the seabirds.
Honestly, you can’t make that stuff up!
I’m just like you. I love watch the light on the water, and listen to the surf against rocks and the sounds of the seabirds.
Honestly, you can’t make that stuff up!
I’m just like you. I love watch the light on the water, and listen to the surf against rocks and the sounds of the seabirds.
Honestly, you can’t make that stuff up!
I’m just like you. I love watch the light on the water, and listen to the surf against rocks and the sounds of the seabirds.
Honestly, you can’t make that stuff up!
I’m just like you. I love watch the light on the water, and listen to the surf against rocks and the sounds of the seabirds.
Very true—electronic messages have their place and usefulness. But a real letter is lasting, in so many ways.
You definitely should read the letters!
Very true—electronic messages have their place and usefulness. But a real letter is lasting, in so many ways.
You definitely should read the letters!
Very true—electronic messages have their place and usefulness. But a real letter is lasting, in so many ways.
You definitely should read the letters!
Very true—electronic messages have their place and usefulness. But a real letter is lasting, in so many ways.
You definitely should read the letters!
Very true—electronic messages have their place and usefulness. But a real letter is lasting, in so many ways.
You definitely should read the letters!
I’m old enough to have had penmanship as a gradeable school subject. And we used those evil fountain pens that were fascinating while they sucked in ink but deplorable when they subsequently spit it out on the paper, my hands, or a favorite blouse. I must admit, though, the one above just begs to be in a “collection” of beautiful things.
For hand-writing, I prefer a free-flowing gel pen—even for puzzles—instead of a pencil whose tip won’t stay sharp, with an eraser that all too soon goes smudgy, or a sticky, up-tight Bic pen.
However, I find I think-write most easily through my fingers on the keyboard. It’s like turning on a faucet, and feeling the words stream out. I love that feeling!
I’m old enough to have had penmanship as a gradeable school subject. And we used those evil fountain pens that were fascinating while they sucked in ink but deplorable when they subsequently spit it out on the paper, my hands, or a favorite blouse. I must admit, though, the one above just begs to be in a “collection” of beautiful things.
For hand-writing, I prefer a free-flowing gel pen—even for puzzles—instead of a pencil whose tip won’t stay sharp, with an eraser that all too soon goes smudgy, or a sticky, up-tight Bic pen.
However, I find I think-write most easily through my fingers on the keyboard. It’s like turning on a faucet, and feeling the words stream out. I love that feeling!
I’m old enough to have had penmanship as a gradeable school subject. And we used those evil fountain pens that were fascinating while they sucked in ink but deplorable when they subsequently spit it out on the paper, my hands, or a favorite blouse. I must admit, though, the one above just begs to be in a “collection” of beautiful things.
For hand-writing, I prefer a free-flowing gel pen—even for puzzles—instead of a pencil whose tip won’t stay sharp, with an eraser that all too soon goes smudgy, or a sticky, up-tight Bic pen.
However, I find I think-write most easily through my fingers on the keyboard. It’s like turning on a faucet, and feeling the words stream out. I love that feeling!
I’m old enough to have had penmanship as a gradeable school subject. And we used those evil fountain pens that were fascinating while they sucked in ink but deplorable when they subsequently spit it out on the paper, my hands, or a favorite blouse. I must admit, though, the one above just begs to be in a “collection” of beautiful things.
For hand-writing, I prefer a free-flowing gel pen—even for puzzles—instead of a pencil whose tip won’t stay sharp, with an eraser that all too soon goes smudgy, or a sticky, up-tight Bic pen.
However, I find I think-write most easily through my fingers on the keyboard. It’s like turning on a faucet, and feeling the words stream out. I love that feeling!
I’m old enough to have had penmanship as a gradeable school subject. And we used those evil fountain pens that were fascinating while they sucked in ink but deplorable when they subsequently spit it out on the paper, my hands, or a favorite blouse. I must admit, though, the one above just begs to be in a “collection” of beautiful things.
For hand-writing, I prefer a free-flowing gel pen—even for puzzles—instead of a pencil whose tip won’t stay sharp, with an eraser that all too soon goes smudgy, or a sticky, up-tight Bic pen.
However, I find I think-write most easily through my fingers on the keyboard. It’s like turning on a faucet, and feeling the words stream out. I love that feeling!
I had several penpals as a teen. I loved writing on pretty stationery. It was always a thrill when the mail came and I would have several letters at once. I had one special pen pal who lived in Sweden that I wrote to up until after I was married (my early twenties). We lost touch, but I have kept the trinkets that Annika sent me. I currently make cards to send on holidays and birthdays. My family and friends love to receive them and I enjoy creating them!!☺️
I had several penpals as a teen. I loved writing on pretty stationery. It was always a thrill when the mail came and I would have several letters at once. I had one special pen pal who lived in Sweden that I wrote to up until after I was married (my early twenties). We lost touch, but I have kept the trinkets that Annika sent me. I currently make cards to send on holidays and birthdays. My family and friends love to receive them and I enjoy creating them!!☺️
I had several penpals as a teen. I loved writing on pretty stationery. It was always a thrill when the mail came and I would have several letters at once. I had one special pen pal who lived in Sweden that I wrote to up until after I was married (my early twenties). We lost touch, but I have kept the trinkets that Annika sent me. I currently make cards to send on holidays and birthdays. My family and friends love to receive them and I enjoy creating them!!☺️
I had several penpals as a teen. I loved writing on pretty stationery. It was always a thrill when the mail came and I would have several letters at once. I had one special pen pal who lived in Sweden that I wrote to up until after I was married (my early twenties). We lost touch, but I have kept the trinkets that Annika sent me. I currently make cards to send on holidays and birthdays. My family and friends love to receive them and I enjoy creating them!!☺️
I had several penpals as a teen. I loved writing on pretty stationery. It was always a thrill when the mail came and I would have several letters at once. I had one special pen pal who lived in Sweden that I wrote to up until after I was married (my early twenties). We lost touch, but I have kept the trinkets that Annika sent me. I currently make cards to send on holidays and birthdays. My family and friends love to receive them and I enjoy creating them!!☺️
LOL on the messy fountain pens. Gel pens are definitely easier, but I have to say, I have a fancy fountain pen that I use for special letters, as I love the look of the ink.
Keyboard do make it easier to whiz through ideas and then clean them up!
LOL on the messy fountain pens. Gel pens are definitely easier, but I have to say, I have a fancy fountain pen that I use for special letters, as I love the look of the ink.
Keyboard do make it easier to whiz through ideas and then clean them up!
LOL on the messy fountain pens. Gel pens are definitely easier, but I have to say, I have a fancy fountain pen that I use for special letters, as I love the look of the ink.
Keyboard do make it easier to whiz through ideas and then clean them up!
LOL on the messy fountain pens. Gel pens are definitely easier, but I have to say, I have a fancy fountain pen that I use for special letters, as I love the look of the ink.
Keyboard do make it easier to whiz through ideas and then clean them up!
LOL on the messy fountain pens. Gel pens are definitely easier, but I have to say, I have a fancy fountain pen that I use for special letters, as I love the look of the ink.
Keyboard do make it easier to whiz through ideas and then clean them up!
Yes, I love that thrill of expecting a letter. What a lovely connection you had with your Swedish friend.
Yes, I love that thrill of expecting a letter. What a lovely connection you had with your Swedish friend.
Yes, I love that thrill of expecting a letter. What a lovely connection you had with your Swedish friend.
Yes, I love that thrill of expecting a letter. What a lovely connection you had with your Swedish friend.
Yes, I love that thrill of expecting a letter. What a lovely connection you had with your Swedish friend.
Andrea this is a topic that I love.
I also grew up corresponding by letter. First were pictures with descriptions dictated and my mother wrote it all down to send to my father who was far away for 2 years. Then I wrote to friends and relatives. I still love to write letters especially when I receive them as well. Keeping a chatter going with each letter back and forth. More recently people tell me that they love my letters (which are nothing more than my life or observations and thoughts). There are fewer newsy friend letters in the mailbox these days – sad.
I do not like texting and those awful abbreviations which take me so long to sound out.
There are some positive things about e-mail – men love it and respond and the message arrives quickly – not as speedy as a phone but you can send it anytime without disturbing the recipient,
I loved getting letters from my Oma who used every little spot to write. (just like the picture you show) I guess she felt she had to save paper and get her moneys worth on the postage. I still try to send cards for special events and include a letter.
Andrea this is a topic that I love.
I also grew up corresponding by letter. First were pictures with descriptions dictated and my mother wrote it all down to send to my father who was far away for 2 years. Then I wrote to friends and relatives. I still love to write letters especially when I receive them as well. Keeping a chatter going with each letter back and forth. More recently people tell me that they love my letters (which are nothing more than my life or observations and thoughts). There are fewer newsy friend letters in the mailbox these days – sad.
I do not like texting and those awful abbreviations which take me so long to sound out.
There are some positive things about e-mail – men love it and respond and the message arrives quickly – not as speedy as a phone but you can send it anytime without disturbing the recipient,
I loved getting letters from my Oma who used every little spot to write. (just like the picture you show) I guess she felt she had to save paper and get her moneys worth on the postage. I still try to send cards for special events and include a letter.
Andrea this is a topic that I love.
I also grew up corresponding by letter. First were pictures with descriptions dictated and my mother wrote it all down to send to my father who was far away for 2 years. Then I wrote to friends and relatives. I still love to write letters especially when I receive them as well. Keeping a chatter going with each letter back and forth. More recently people tell me that they love my letters (which are nothing more than my life or observations and thoughts). There are fewer newsy friend letters in the mailbox these days – sad.
I do not like texting and those awful abbreviations which take me so long to sound out.
There are some positive things about e-mail – men love it and respond and the message arrives quickly – not as speedy as a phone but you can send it anytime without disturbing the recipient,
I loved getting letters from my Oma who used every little spot to write. (just like the picture you show) I guess she felt she had to save paper and get her moneys worth on the postage. I still try to send cards for special events and include a letter.
Andrea this is a topic that I love.
I also grew up corresponding by letter. First were pictures with descriptions dictated and my mother wrote it all down to send to my father who was far away for 2 years. Then I wrote to friends and relatives. I still love to write letters especially when I receive them as well. Keeping a chatter going with each letter back and forth. More recently people tell me that they love my letters (which are nothing more than my life or observations and thoughts). There are fewer newsy friend letters in the mailbox these days – sad.
I do not like texting and those awful abbreviations which take me so long to sound out.
There are some positive things about e-mail – men love it and respond and the message arrives quickly – not as speedy as a phone but you can send it anytime without disturbing the recipient,
I loved getting letters from my Oma who used every little spot to write. (just like the picture you show) I guess she felt she had to save paper and get her moneys worth on the postage. I still try to send cards for special events and include a letter.
Andrea this is a topic that I love.
I also grew up corresponding by letter. First were pictures with descriptions dictated and my mother wrote it all down to send to my father who was far away for 2 years. Then I wrote to friends and relatives. I still love to write letters especially when I receive them as well. Keeping a chatter going with each letter back and forth. More recently people tell me that they love my letters (which are nothing more than my life or observations and thoughts). There are fewer newsy friend letters in the mailbox these days – sad.
I do not like texting and those awful abbreviations which take me so long to sound out.
There are some positive things about e-mail – men love it and respond and the message arrives quickly – not as speedy as a phone but you can send it anytime without disturbing the recipient,
I loved getting letters from my Oma who used every little spot to write. (just like the picture you show) I guess she felt she had to save paper and get her moneys worth on the postage. I still try to send cards for special events and include a letter.
Now, I write notes and send cards to certain friends and relatives on a regular basis. I have two or three friends who exchange letters with me. And yes, absolutely I am thrilled when I receive letters. It is seldom, but always something treasure.
During the Viet Nam war, Mr Wonderful was overseas for quite some time. We exchanged letters and I kept every letter he sent me. They were all in a box that also included a letter from one of my grandfathers, as well quite a few of the letters from my Danish pen pal from high school. And there was a tiny picture of one of my ancestors in his Union Army uniform.
Mr Wonderful got rid of that box while I was not at home. He did quite a few things which changed my life and hurt me. But, none of them hurt quite as emotionally as losing that box.
Now, I write notes and send cards to certain friends and relatives on a regular basis. I have two or three friends who exchange letters with me. And yes, absolutely I am thrilled when I receive letters. It is seldom, but always something treasure.
During the Viet Nam war, Mr Wonderful was overseas for quite some time. We exchanged letters and I kept every letter he sent me. They were all in a box that also included a letter from one of my grandfathers, as well quite a few of the letters from my Danish pen pal from high school. And there was a tiny picture of one of my ancestors in his Union Army uniform.
Mr Wonderful got rid of that box while I was not at home. He did quite a few things which changed my life and hurt me. But, none of them hurt quite as emotionally as losing that box.
Now, I write notes and send cards to certain friends and relatives on a regular basis. I have two or three friends who exchange letters with me. And yes, absolutely I am thrilled when I receive letters. It is seldom, but always something treasure.
During the Viet Nam war, Mr Wonderful was overseas for quite some time. We exchanged letters and I kept every letter he sent me. They were all in a box that also included a letter from one of my grandfathers, as well quite a few of the letters from my Danish pen pal from high school. And there was a tiny picture of one of my ancestors in his Union Army uniform.
Mr Wonderful got rid of that box while I was not at home. He did quite a few things which changed my life and hurt me. But, none of them hurt quite as emotionally as losing that box.
Now, I write notes and send cards to certain friends and relatives on a regular basis. I have two or three friends who exchange letters with me. And yes, absolutely I am thrilled when I receive letters. It is seldom, but always something treasure.
During the Viet Nam war, Mr Wonderful was overseas for quite some time. We exchanged letters and I kept every letter he sent me. They were all in a box that also included a letter from one of my grandfathers, as well quite a few of the letters from my Danish pen pal from high school. And there was a tiny picture of one of my ancestors in his Union Army uniform.
Mr Wonderful got rid of that box while I was not at home. He did quite a few things which changed my life and hurt me. But, none of them hurt quite as emotionally as losing that box.
Now, I write notes and send cards to certain friends and relatives on a regular basis. I have two or three friends who exchange letters with me. And yes, absolutely I am thrilled when I receive letters. It is seldom, but always something treasure.
During the Viet Nam war, Mr Wonderful was overseas for quite some time. We exchanged letters and I kept every letter he sent me. They were all in a box that also included a letter from one of my grandfathers, as well quite a few of the letters from my Danish pen pal from high school. And there was a tiny picture of one of my ancestors in his Union Army uniform.
Mr Wonderful got rid of that box while I was not at home. He did quite a few things which changed my life and hurt me. But, none of them hurt quite as emotionally as losing that box.
You are so right. And exactly my thoughts. I used to write long newsy letters. And in the by gone days of allowances, I remember spending more than 50% of it the notepaper and mail. Those were the days of pen pals. Later, unable to write, I typed my letters on a typewriter and later still, on the computer, printed and mailed. And now, no one has time to write. Or read the long epistles. Just delete. So sad.
And it seems I have dated myself. Hahahaha.
You are so right. And exactly my thoughts. I used to write long newsy letters. And in the by gone days of allowances, I remember spending more than 50% of it the notepaper and mail. Those were the days of pen pals. Later, unable to write, I typed my letters on a typewriter and later still, on the computer, printed and mailed. And now, no one has time to write. Or read the long epistles. Just delete. So sad.
And it seems I have dated myself. Hahahaha.
You are so right. And exactly my thoughts. I used to write long newsy letters. And in the by gone days of allowances, I remember spending more than 50% of it the notepaper and mail. Those were the days of pen pals. Later, unable to write, I typed my letters on a typewriter and later still, on the computer, printed and mailed. And now, no one has time to write. Or read the long epistles. Just delete. So sad.
And it seems I have dated myself. Hahahaha.
You are so right. And exactly my thoughts. I used to write long newsy letters. And in the by gone days of allowances, I remember spending more than 50% of it the notepaper and mail. Those were the days of pen pals. Later, unable to write, I typed my letters on a typewriter and later still, on the computer, printed and mailed. And now, no one has time to write. Or read the long epistles. Just delete. So sad.
And it seems I have dated myself. Hahahaha.
You are so right. And exactly my thoughts. I used to write long newsy letters. And in the by gone days of allowances, I remember spending more than 50% of it the notepaper and mail. Those were the days of pen pals. Later, unable to write, I typed my letters on a typewriter and later still, on the computer, printed and mailed. And now, no one has time to write. Or read the long epistles. Just delete. So sad.
And it seems I have dated myself. Hahahaha.
How heartbreaking, Annette; I feel for you.
How heartbreaking, Annette; I feel for you.
How heartbreaking, Annette; I feel for you.
How heartbreaking, Annette; I feel for you.
How heartbreaking, Annette; I feel for you.
I miss letter writing. I used to write to an Aunt in England when I was young. I was very fond of her and loved being in touch with her.
Now I just write the one letter. It’s to an ex girlfriend of my brother who I was very close to. She was like the sister I never had. We exchange letters once a year at Christmas and keep each other up to date with family news. I look forward to this letter every December.
An email is no comparison.
I miss letter writing. I used to write to an Aunt in England when I was young. I was very fond of her and loved being in touch with her.
Now I just write the one letter. It’s to an ex girlfriend of my brother who I was very close to. She was like the sister I never had. We exchange letters once a year at Christmas and keep each other up to date with family news. I look forward to this letter every December.
An email is no comparison.
I miss letter writing. I used to write to an Aunt in England when I was young. I was very fond of her and loved being in touch with her.
Now I just write the one letter. It’s to an ex girlfriend of my brother who I was very close to. She was like the sister I never had. We exchange letters once a year at Christmas and keep each other up to date with family news. I look forward to this letter every December.
An email is no comparison.
I miss letter writing. I used to write to an Aunt in England when I was young. I was very fond of her and loved being in touch with her.
Now I just write the one letter. It’s to an ex girlfriend of my brother who I was very close to. She was like the sister I never had. We exchange letters once a year at Christmas and keep each other up to date with family news. I look forward to this letter every December.
An email is no comparison.
I miss letter writing. I used to write to an Aunt in England when I was young. I was very fond of her and loved being in touch with her.
Now I just write the one letter. It’s to an ex girlfriend of my brother who I was very close to. She was like the sister I never had. We exchange letters once a year at Christmas and keep each other up to date with family news. I look forward to this letter every December.
An email is no comparison.
I seemed to have inherited the obsessive need to write letters that both my mother and grandmother had, and it started very early. My best friend and I wrote volumes to each other multiple times a week during highschool. When my husband and I, along with a newborn, moved across the country after he graduated university letter writing kept me sane and in touch with my mother, grandmother and best friend so far away. That was before desktop computers, let alone cell phones. And I didn’t own a typewriter either. Once my son went off to college though, I thanked God for email and later cell phones because I could’ve waited for a chilly day down south to hear from our son unless there was a problem. And when cell phones became very common place it was a great way to check in very briefly with my oldest friend and much more often. You would think we would’ve had more to write to each other about, but with grown kids, grand kids, aging parents, spouses with health problems or ourselves…our cell phones seem like a miracle…yet more so I think because we DIDN’T grow up with them.
However, though I miss handwritten letters , or even type written letters, I am a lot more concerned about the future of letter writing. In the short time period in history in which electronic communication has been with us how many formats have come and gone, with the loss of old emails or word documents? Historians will have a much much harder time researching people and events and the subtle differences of one decade to the next without letters. This part just makes me want to cry.
I seemed to have inherited the obsessive need to write letters that both my mother and grandmother had, and it started very early. My best friend and I wrote volumes to each other multiple times a week during highschool. When my husband and I, along with a newborn, moved across the country after he graduated university letter writing kept me sane and in touch with my mother, grandmother and best friend so far away. That was before desktop computers, let alone cell phones. And I didn’t own a typewriter either. Once my son went off to college though, I thanked God for email and later cell phones because I could’ve waited for a chilly day down south to hear from our son unless there was a problem. And when cell phones became very common place it was a great way to check in very briefly with my oldest friend and much more often. You would think we would’ve had more to write to each other about, but with grown kids, grand kids, aging parents, spouses with health problems or ourselves…our cell phones seem like a miracle…yet more so I think because we DIDN’T grow up with them.
However, though I miss handwritten letters , or even type written letters, I am a lot more concerned about the future of letter writing. In the short time period in history in which electronic communication has been with us how many formats have come and gone, with the loss of old emails or word documents? Historians will have a much much harder time researching people and events and the subtle differences of one decade to the next without letters. This part just makes me want to cry.
I seemed to have inherited the obsessive need to write letters that both my mother and grandmother had, and it started very early. My best friend and I wrote volumes to each other multiple times a week during highschool. When my husband and I, along with a newborn, moved across the country after he graduated university letter writing kept me sane and in touch with my mother, grandmother and best friend so far away. That was before desktop computers, let alone cell phones. And I didn’t own a typewriter either. Once my son went off to college though, I thanked God for email and later cell phones because I could’ve waited for a chilly day down south to hear from our son unless there was a problem. And when cell phones became very common place it was a great way to check in very briefly with my oldest friend and much more often. You would think we would’ve had more to write to each other about, but with grown kids, grand kids, aging parents, spouses with health problems or ourselves…our cell phones seem like a miracle…yet more so I think because we DIDN’T grow up with them.
However, though I miss handwritten letters , or even type written letters, I am a lot more concerned about the future of letter writing. In the short time period in history in which electronic communication has been with us how many formats have come and gone, with the loss of old emails or word documents? Historians will have a much much harder time researching people and events and the subtle differences of one decade to the next without letters. This part just makes me want to cry.
I seemed to have inherited the obsessive need to write letters that both my mother and grandmother had, and it started very early. My best friend and I wrote volumes to each other multiple times a week during highschool. When my husband and I, along with a newborn, moved across the country after he graduated university letter writing kept me sane and in touch with my mother, grandmother and best friend so far away. That was before desktop computers, let alone cell phones. And I didn’t own a typewriter either. Once my son went off to college though, I thanked God for email and later cell phones because I could’ve waited for a chilly day down south to hear from our son unless there was a problem. And when cell phones became very common place it was a great way to check in very briefly with my oldest friend and much more often. You would think we would’ve had more to write to each other about, but with grown kids, grand kids, aging parents, spouses with health problems or ourselves…our cell phones seem like a miracle…yet more so I think because we DIDN’T grow up with them.
However, though I miss handwritten letters , or even type written letters, I am a lot more concerned about the future of letter writing. In the short time period in history in which electronic communication has been with us how many formats have come and gone, with the loss of old emails or word documents? Historians will have a much much harder time researching people and events and the subtle differences of one decade to the next without letters. This part just makes me want to cry.
I seemed to have inherited the obsessive need to write letters that both my mother and grandmother had, and it started very early. My best friend and I wrote volumes to each other multiple times a week during highschool. When my husband and I, along with a newborn, moved across the country after he graduated university letter writing kept me sane and in touch with my mother, grandmother and best friend so far away. That was before desktop computers, let alone cell phones. And I didn’t own a typewriter either. Once my son went off to college though, I thanked God for email and later cell phones because I could’ve waited for a chilly day down south to hear from our son unless there was a problem. And when cell phones became very common place it was a great way to check in very briefly with my oldest friend and much more often. You would think we would’ve had more to write to each other about, but with grown kids, grand kids, aging parents, spouses with health problems or ourselves…our cell phones seem like a miracle…yet more so I think because we DIDN’T grow up with them.
However, though I miss handwritten letters , or even type written letters, I am a lot more concerned about the future of letter writing. In the short time period in history in which electronic communication has been with us how many formats have come and gone, with the loss of old emails or word documents? Historians will have a much much harder time researching people and events and the subtle differences of one decade to the next without letters. This part just makes me want to cry.
I save important email, blog posts, and so on by transferring them to word processing documents. When I upgrade my word processor, I upgrade all those documents. For some types of correspondence, I also save printouts in a binder. They may be lost sometime in the future (but a basement flood while we were living in New Jersey wiped out ALL my old letters, my post card collection, and some other memorbilia. You can’t always control fate.
I save important email, blog posts, and so on by transferring them to word processing documents. When I upgrade my word processor, I upgrade all those documents. For some types of correspondence, I also save printouts in a binder. They may be lost sometime in the future (but a basement flood while we were living in New Jersey wiped out ALL my old letters, my post card collection, and some other memorbilia. You can’t always control fate.
I save important email, blog posts, and so on by transferring them to word processing documents. When I upgrade my word processor, I upgrade all those documents. For some types of correspondence, I also save printouts in a binder. They may be lost sometime in the future (but a basement flood while we were living in New Jersey wiped out ALL my old letters, my post card collection, and some other memorbilia. You can’t always control fate.
I save important email, blog posts, and so on by transferring them to word processing documents. When I upgrade my word processor, I upgrade all those documents. For some types of correspondence, I also save printouts in a binder. They may be lost sometime in the future (but a basement flood while we were living in New Jersey wiped out ALL my old letters, my post card collection, and some other memorbilia. You can’t always control fate.
I save important email, blog posts, and so on by transferring them to word processing documents. When I upgrade my word processor, I upgrade all those documents. For some types of correspondence, I also save printouts in a binder. They may be lost sometime in the future (but a basement flood while we were living in New Jersey wiped out ALL my old letters, my post card collection, and some other memorbilia. You can’t always control fate.
I love letters. I had penpals by the age of twelve. It was my way of exploring the world. Since most of my adult life has been a process of upping stakes and moving on, I continued to do a fair job of keeping in touch by actual written letters. Much better than phone calls — cheaper (ah, the days of long distance, may they never return) and you can go back and clean up things said in an indiscreet moment. I always said I rewrote letters to my mother — people thought I was kidding. It’s probably why I’ve never had a problem with revision. Re-vision: seeing things differently. My letter writing slid away when I got in my forties and nearly disappeared in my fifties, but two dear friends hung on and hang on still. One has a hand that trembles so badly, every word is a wriggling design and I can vividly picture the hand holding the pen. The other leaves it for a year and then writes a novel that takes extra postage. As for me, I’ve inherited my father’s arthritis. Holding a pen is painful, and by the end of the first paragraph my fingers start to go numb. For some reason the keyboard doesn’t cause me any problems, so while my friends still get “written” letters, they know better by now than to expect “handwritten”. And I look forward to receiving theirs far and above anything else I can imagine getting in the mail.
I love letters. I had penpals by the age of twelve. It was my way of exploring the world. Since most of my adult life has been a process of upping stakes and moving on, I continued to do a fair job of keeping in touch by actual written letters. Much better than phone calls — cheaper (ah, the days of long distance, may they never return) and you can go back and clean up things said in an indiscreet moment. I always said I rewrote letters to my mother — people thought I was kidding. It’s probably why I’ve never had a problem with revision. Re-vision: seeing things differently. My letter writing slid away when I got in my forties and nearly disappeared in my fifties, but two dear friends hung on and hang on still. One has a hand that trembles so badly, every word is a wriggling design and I can vividly picture the hand holding the pen. The other leaves it for a year and then writes a novel that takes extra postage. As for me, I’ve inherited my father’s arthritis. Holding a pen is painful, and by the end of the first paragraph my fingers start to go numb. For some reason the keyboard doesn’t cause me any problems, so while my friends still get “written” letters, they know better by now than to expect “handwritten”. And I look forward to receiving theirs far and above anything else I can imagine getting in the mail.
I love letters. I had penpals by the age of twelve. It was my way of exploring the world. Since most of my adult life has been a process of upping stakes and moving on, I continued to do a fair job of keeping in touch by actual written letters. Much better than phone calls — cheaper (ah, the days of long distance, may they never return) and you can go back and clean up things said in an indiscreet moment. I always said I rewrote letters to my mother — people thought I was kidding. It’s probably why I’ve never had a problem with revision. Re-vision: seeing things differently. My letter writing slid away when I got in my forties and nearly disappeared in my fifties, but two dear friends hung on and hang on still. One has a hand that trembles so badly, every word is a wriggling design and I can vividly picture the hand holding the pen. The other leaves it for a year and then writes a novel that takes extra postage. As for me, I’ve inherited my father’s arthritis. Holding a pen is painful, and by the end of the first paragraph my fingers start to go numb. For some reason the keyboard doesn’t cause me any problems, so while my friends still get “written” letters, they know better by now than to expect “handwritten”. And I look forward to receiving theirs far and above anything else I can imagine getting in the mail.
I love letters. I had penpals by the age of twelve. It was my way of exploring the world. Since most of my adult life has been a process of upping stakes and moving on, I continued to do a fair job of keeping in touch by actual written letters. Much better than phone calls — cheaper (ah, the days of long distance, may they never return) and you can go back and clean up things said in an indiscreet moment. I always said I rewrote letters to my mother — people thought I was kidding. It’s probably why I’ve never had a problem with revision. Re-vision: seeing things differently. My letter writing slid away when I got in my forties and nearly disappeared in my fifties, but two dear friends hung on and hang on still. One has a hand that trembles so badly, every word is a wriggling design and I can vividly picture the hand holding the pen. The other leaves it for a year and then writes a novel that takes extra postage. As for me, I’ve inherited my father’s arthritis. Holding a pen is painful, and by the end of the first paragraph my fingers start to go numb. For some reason the keyboard doesn’t cause me any problems, so while my friends still get “written” letters, they know better by now than to expect “handwritten”. And I look forward to receiving theirs far and above anything else I can imagine getting in the mail.
I love letters. I had penpals by the age of twelve. It was my way of exploring the world. Since most of my adult life has been a process of upping stakes and moving on, I continued to do a fair job of keeping in touch by actual written letters. Much better than phone calls — cheaper (ah, the days of long distance, may they never return) and you can go back and clean up things said in an indiscreet moment. I always said I rewrote letters to my mother — people thought I was kidding. It’s probably why I’ve never had a problem with revision. Re-vision: seeing things differently. My letter writing slid away when I got in my forties and nearly disappeared in my fifties, but two dear friends hung on and hang on still. One has a hand that trembles so badly, every word is a wriggling design and I can vividly picture the hand holding the pen. The other leaves it for a year and then writes a novel that takes extra postage. As for me, I’ve inherited my father’s arthritis. Holding a pen is painful, and by the end of the first paragraph my fingers start to go numb. For some reason the keyboard doesn’t cause me any problems, so while my friends still get “written” letters, they know better by now than to expect “handwritten”. And I look forward to receiving theirs far and above anything else I can imagine getting in the mail.