To WordPress, With Love

Close the laptop and open the stationery box. You won’t regret it.

Dear reader,

When was the last time you picked up a pen and actually handwrote a letter to someone?

Yeah, don’t feel too guilty about that. Up until about five minutes ago, I think it had been at least a year since I did it, and that was when I wrote a letter to my grandmother. But a lazy Sunday afternoon in Paris seemed the perfect opportunity to crack open the little box of stationery I bought just before leaving the country, and I’m so glad I did.

Living abroad has been lonely at times, but thanks to Skype and Facebook, I have felt remarkably close to my friends back home. Still, the rare occasions when I have opened my mailbox to find a real, handwritten letter were some of the most touching moments where I felt a physical connection to someone I cared about. Yet, in an age of digital everything, the act of sitting down for a couple of hours to hand-craft a personal letter doesn’t even cross our minds as a possibility, much less as an archaic– if romantic– anachronism.

One thing I have noticed about France is that, despite its position as a modern, wealthy, Western nation, the people here do not quite rely on their technology as much as my American compatriots at home. Of course, iPhones and tablets abound, and the country is even several steps ahead of the United States in terms of public transportation and credit card security, but when you go to a cafe, you see people in wicker chairs turned out to face the sidewalk instead of hordes of solo Starbucks-sippers absorbed within their cocoons of Macbooks and earbuds. French websites tend to look like they were designed at the turn of the century, and people are much more likely to plan to host a dinner weeks in advance rather than firing off a text to whoever is available to grab some fast food at the last minute.

All of this is to say that as a young American, it has been eye-opening living in the Old World, where even amongst 21st century modernisation, life still moves at a pace a bit more becoming the 19th century. It’s undeniable that there are French people just as technology-saturated as their American cousins, but I have found that theirs is a culture that still respects the human element, the personal connection, the intimate encounter. And spending my afternoon putting pen to paper to reconnect with old friends was a therapeutic way to ease some homesickness as well as commune with the spirit of a city rich in literary history.

To stop and consider that there was an era where people would cross the ocean literally never to be seen again and the only means of communicating with them was to entrust a scrap of paper to a courier once a year… well, that is a humbling thought. Fortunately, we don’t have to resort to such ancient methods today because we have webcamming and instant messaging at our fingertips!

Then why is it that I still have a hard time scheduling even these digital encounters? Quite simply, I believe it is because we live in a culture of consumption instead of production. To reach out to someone through any medium demands a certain amount of effort and sacrifice on our part, but that’s the beauty of human social relations: communicating with another human being goes beyond the level of mere animal need and can be an act of love in itself.

Especially to my writer readers, shouldn’t the title of writer encompass the most humble and basic form of writing beyond all the work we do blogging, querying, authoring, and social networking? If you want to really lay claim to the title, I challenge you to go old school and break out the quills and parchment.

If you have been feeling the urge to reconnect with someone, or even if you are reaching out to a new acquaintance– be it a potential business partner, romantic interest, or neighbor who just moved in down the street– why not do it in ink?

In case your letter-writing skills from elementary school are a bit rusty (do they even teach the art of writing a friendly letter any more?), here are some tips:

  • You might want to draft just a couple of points on a scratch piece of paper beforehand to gather your thoughts.
  • The weather is nice to mention, but your space is likely limited. Try to dig a little deeper and open up. Remember this is a personal letter, so why not use the opportunity to recount some personal events (whether good or bad) from the past year?
  • Don’t fret about making mistakes. Actually, handwriting forces you to write at a slower pace, so your thoughts will be constrained to accommodate your hand instead of racing to keep up with your mad typing skills. Besides, before there was a “backspace” button, there was this little thing called “whiteout;” a couple chicken scratches here and there give it character, too.
  • “Sharing” links or photos on Facebook is so mainstream; you might consider using this opportunity to include some actual photos, personal drawings/doodles, newspaper clippings, or even small gifts that can fit in the envelope.
  • Don’t treat it as a chore or something on your never-ending list of things to do; rather, look at it as the first step in a personal conversation with someone you care enough to write to.
  • Tell your friends– better yet, write to your friends– and revive the lost (but not yet dead!) art of letter-writing.

I hope that you enjoy rediscovering a traditional art form and that it brings a richer dimension to your writing and your life.

5 thoughts on “To WordPress, With Love”

  1. Lovely piece. But I have a few little notes from March that are handwritten, and a couple of them are even on scrapbook paper. 🙂

  2. What a lovely idea. It’s probably been years since I’ve literally written a letter that I intended to mail. No one even jots notes on postcards anymore.

  3. Dear Ed~
    Thank you for writing this post…there is nothing that brightens my day more than when I open the mailbox to find a handwritten note, letter, or postcard addressed to me. I try to make it a regular practice to snail mail cards and notes to my friends too.

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