5 Days - The Art of Correspondence

This morning before work, my roommate Matt informed me that he needed to write a letter. Matt's brother is currently studying abroad in South Africa, and they email frequently to keep up with one another. But today Matt has to write a letter. His brother's girlfriend is sending a care package and asked Matt if he would like to include a letter for his brother.

And that's when we got to talking. What should he write? He can't write about the last few weeks of his life, because that's all in the emails. What do you write in a letter that someone may not read for days? How do you develop a thought on paper when lives are organized for immediate response and rapid-fire, short-sentence conversation? How do you write a letter, and what do you say? And why do you write a letter?

We all love receiving mail. There's something special about it. Anticipation. Excitement. Delayed gratification. Emails and texts are a dime a dozen, and they lack the emotional response that a good hand-written letter does. Yet, very few people I know write letters. With 5 Days left, I went exploring. Ironically enough, most of today's thoughts are the result of emails, google-chat, and conversations. I'm using the internet to learn about not using the internet.

No Backspace

My friend Katie said this about letter-writing: there is no backspace. And it's true. Writing a letter forces you to think ahead. It forces you to develop thoughts in a more complete way before putting them on paper. The reader knows this, too. Receiving something that is hand-written is special. You know that thought and care was put into the process. Someone thought about you, got out a pen and paper, took time to write to you, folded it and put it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, wrote your name and address on it, and put it in the mail. It may not seem like much, but it is.

The Letter Experience

Receiving and reading a letter is an experience. It involves more of the senses. You can feel the weight of the parcel, you feel and hear the tearing of the envelope in order to reveal its contents. The paper has texture, and the handwriting has character. You can hold it, fold it up and put it away, and open it up again. You can even smell it. Maybe it was written in a coffee shop. Maybe it has a hint of cigarette smoke. Maybe, like in the old days, there was a mist of cologne or perfume sprayed on the paper. All of these things enhance the reading experience and make the letter more than something you just read. You experience a letter.

Recovering the Art of Correspondence

My parents were adamant about sending hand-written thank-you notes when I was growing up, and I still do. I've written hundreds of them. It takes time. It takes thought. It takes finesse. But it's been a while since I took the time to sit down and write a letter.

When I was in the first grade I wrote a letter to a soldier in Iraq. I even included a picture of tanks and airplanes and Bald Eagles. Weeks went by, and then I received an envelope that had a whole bunch of strange stamps and writing on it. Inside was a letter from my new pen-pal and an Iraqi five dollar bill. As a seven year old kid, I loved it. I opened my letter and looked at it over and over again. I brought it to show and tell. And I still have it.