The series is going from strength to strength and I’ve recently had a glut of posts come in. That’s because I’m writing this on 1st December even though you’re reading it on 11th December, and the series has started this morning. The starting of the series proper is always a big prompt for people to get writing, and judging from the volume of contributions received in the last 24 hours that’s true again this year.
Today at home we will actually BE at home all day. Last weekend we were out doing stuff all weekend and it felt very busy, with little time just to sit and relax. Today is the day for that though.
Our post today is from Liz Kentish, who you can find on LinkedIn, and Twitter (@Liz_Kentish). I have interacted with Liz for a long time on social media, and she has contributed to this series previously too. Liz aims to be an ambassador and role model for those in facilities management, the built environment and the many other sectors of industry that Kentish and Co work in. She conducts business honestly and openly, and talks about management in an extremely human way that removes some of the barriers put up by ‘business’. Her enthusiasm and passion for supporting people is described as inspiring and she is seen as genuinely positive and straightforward. She is someone with tireless energy and a real passion for developing and adding value to teams, individuals and organisations. She loves running, 1980s pop music, handwritten letters, and is a self-confessed stationery addict.
Over to Liz:
When I was about 13 years old, I put an advert in the back of a music newspaper called Superpop, which was the ‘poor relative’ of NME and Melody Maker, I guess. I’m not sure if anybody even remembers it. Anyway, I wanted some pen pals. And I had quite a lot of responses. Anyway, for the next five years, I wrote to three of them on a regular basis, got to learn more about them, where they lived their school, what they enjoyed doing, what they enjoyed reading, what music they liked.
And I developed a friendship with these people from afar and none of us ever met up.
When we got to 18, we just stopped writing; life got in the way and we went off to work or college or moved away. I wonder what happened to them all. No, I’m not going to go down the Facebook wormhole here!
And then, of course, communication became a lot more digital and a lot less analogue. So we had telex machines. Then we had faxes and emails, and then texts. Now of course, we have WhatsApp too and everything is so instant, isn’t it? I’m not sure how much thought goes into messages when we are communicating instantly and expecting an instant reply.
Dave and I like to go to at least one music festival every summer. And in 2019, we booked to go to Purbeck Valley Folk Festival. I noticed on Twitter that the organisers were talking about a handwritten letter writing workshop that was taking place in one part of the festival. I was intrigued by this, so I thought I’d go and track it down. So although the festival itself hadn’t properly started, Dave and I went into the site to see if we could find this person who was running the letter writing workshop. Anyway, we found this gazebo with its own little postbox outside and beanbag cushions made of parcel bags, and next to the gazebo were two old Romany caravans, which were also there as space for letter writing, as well as impromptu stages for some of the performers.
Turns out the lady who was running the workshops wasn’t there at that time. But her daughter made me promise that I would come back the next day. So on day one of the festival, we turned up.
And that’s how I met Dinah Johnson, founder of the Handwritten Letter Appreciation Society.
And I rediscovered a passion for writing letters. Early on, I realised not to write a letter in anticipation of a reply. For me, I discovered that the joy was actually in the writing. And while I’m writing a letter to someone, I’m holding that person in my mind, in my heart and my thoughts, and almost hearing them reading my letter once they receive it.
So who do I write to? Well I write to family, I write to friends, I write to old school friends, people I’ve met on Twitter. I love how social media, which is so digital, can create analogue friendships. So yes, I write to quite a lot of people on Twitter. And I write to quite a lot of celebrities too – friends of mine joke that I’m a bit of a stalker, that I stalk pop stars on Twitter until they become my friends.
Well, there’s a little bit of truth to that.
But mostly I write to celebrities because well, having suffered from imposter syndrome myself, I think a lot of us do. And I think it’s nice to be able to write to someone and tell them specifically about a positive impact they’ve had on either my life, or the life of my family. So let me give you an example.
My dad, who died in 1990, wasn’t always quick to show his emotions. But what I do remember is on a Wednesday evening, when MASH was on the TV, hearing my dad roar with laughter watching it. And he especially liked the character of Hawkeye Pierce, played by Alan Alda. So last summer, when I was writing some letters, I thought, you know what, I’ll write to Alan Alda and tell him because perhaps he’d be interested to know that he brought laughter to our family home for many, many years.
So I’ve written to other actors. I’ve written to journalists, disc jockeys, poets, authors, newsreaders, musicians, other people in the public eye.
Mostly just to say ‘Hello’, and ‘thank you’.
The irony sometimes is when people then direct tweet me or send me a message on WhatsApp to say thank you for the letter. But you know what, it doesn’t matter – if it’s brought them a moment of joy, perhaps some smiles or some chuckles or even some rolling of eyes, then I feel it’s been worth it.
I have had some handwritten replies. And they just come out of the blue. And it’s just wonderful that someone else has taken time to put pen to paper.
Often people say to me, I’d like to write a letter, but my handwriting is terrible. Well, I’d like to be able to tell you that having written hundreds of letters over the last year and a half, my handwriting has improved, but I don’t think it has. I bought myself beautiful fountain pens, I’ve got some lovely, coloured inks. But I still resort to a purple biro because it’s easier. It’s less messy. And I think it makes my handwriting a little bit easier to read. I’m not sure; you’ll have to ask the people who were on the receiving end of some of my letters.
Having joined the Handwritten Letter Appreciation Society, Dinah also introduced me to Alison Hitchcock, who along with her friend Brian, founded From Me To You. Because of their own story, Alison and Brian understood the power of handwritten letters, particularly when someone is undergoing treatment for cancer. That’s what From Me To You do. They ask people to write letters to donate to people having treatment. You’re writing a letter to someone you don’t know; you don’t know what gender they are, how old they are, whereabouts they are in the country, but you write with positive intent, and you just write newsy stuff. Well, I do, although my letters are quite rambling.
I write letters to donate. And when I’ve heard feedback through the charity from the recipients of the letters, it makes it all worthwhile and really just encourages me to write more.
I’m not here to convince you to start writing letters, although of course, I’d love it if you do. Is there someone who you could drop a letter or even just a postcard to, someone you’ve been thinking of recently. Just tell them about your day. Tell them what you can see out the window, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is you take the time to think about them and just invest a bit of your own day for them.
Somebody asked me today, if there’s somebody I’ve written to that I’m still waiting and hoping for a reply from.
Well, Bruce Springsteen, you know it’s your turn to write back.
Watch this space.
Happy letter writing, everyone.
I love this post and am glad that Liz took the time to write it. I did wonder if she might have handwritten this and I could have included scanned images of it – maybe next year Liz?
I can’t recall the last time I wrote, or received, a handwritten letter, and my handwriting looks strange now whenever I do it. But like Liz I had penpals when I was younger, and my Mum used to hand write letters to her childhood friend who had emigrated to Australia, and Liz’s post has brought back that memory of Mum writing on AirMail paper (remember that?) and then waiting around 6-8 weeks for a reply from her friend, with the letters always so long and detailed. Mum used to read them to me and then let me read them, and I felt I knew her friend as much as she did.
Liz is right that this can bring a little bit of joy into someone’s life.
Who would you hand write a letter to?
Till next time…
Gary
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