Unique Blend

I have written before about how this project sometimes finds me in two worlds -- a 17th century world where people waited weeks and months as their handwritten correspondence traveled miles and mountains and seas, and a 21st century one where I wait just seconds as the Web produces the address of my high school ecology teacher in response to my typed query.

This blend of old and new seems all the more striking when I find myself writing, longhand with paper and pen, to people I've met only over the Internet. There have been seven such letters, all addressed to some of the amazing women I have met through an online message board for stepmothers like me. I recently wrote to J, who has inspired me by overcoming adversity and never losing sight of her dreams even amid major turmoil:

While it might seem in some ways odd to be so moved by someone I've never met, I guess it's a testament to the power of the Internet (this whole letter-writing project might make me appear to be a Luddite, but actually I can still appreciate our wired culture) and more specifically the power of what [the stepmom site's founder] created -- I'm looking forward to writing to her and thanking her! I am really thankful for the chance to "meet" so many amazing, strong, imaginative women.

That I can count these women among my friends, and write to them along with my childhood and college friends, teachers, coworkers and family, ever reinforces the gratitude The Letter Jar project has instilled in me. It may be, as many people say, a Facebook/Twitter/e-mail world, and we're just living in it. Turns out that's fine even for an old-fashioned writer like me.

NEXT READ: I can't wait to get my hands on 365 Thank Yous by John Kralik. After hitting what seemed to him to be the indisputable rock bottom in his life, Kralik embarked on a journey to focus on what he had, versus what he didn't. What resulted were 365 thank you notes to a bevy of people that, he discovered, enriched his life in myriad ways. Hooray for the power of gratitude -- can't wait to read of his experiences.

Connection, Reflection, Collection

Yesterday when I went to my mailbox there were exactly two items in it: both personal letters for me, responses to letters I had written.

One was from my husband's aunt C. The other was from J, a former coworker. Both remarked how receiving my letter caused them to reflect on other letters they'd received and sent, and how letters touch them in ways that e-mail and Facebook do not.

"My first letter recollection was from my grandma in Missouri, my mom's mom," wrote Aunt C. "She religiously wrote a weekly letter to us on paper exactly as you had used. Her news always included the weather and a garden report in the summer ... In college I would write home and frequently write my heartthrob, Uncle J. We have kept some of them."

And J wrote, "As I was spring cleaning over the last few weeks I found several notes I had received over time. It's an odd thing, I know, but I keep cards and letters I receive from friends and family. It's a little 'pack-rattish' but, as I rediscovered recently, it's so wonderful to go back and see how I touched other people's lives (through thank you notes and letters) and how other people have touched mine."

Actually J, I don't think it's odd at all--I too love going through the boxes of letters and cards I have kept from friends and family. "Pack-rattish" is how I would describe my one time obsession with keeping all the issues from my Martha Stewart Living subscription, as if somehow I would one day be inspired to tear through dozens of (mostly unread) issues and unleash a homemaking storm. Not so much--Martha got recycled. But cards and letters? I'd no sooner discard those than I would the warranty on the dishwasher or the DVD player manual.

"E-mail gives people the opportunity to communicate, but it's not without its drawbacks," C wrote. "It is too easy just to read one after another without taking time to reply, which is something I am trying to do--reply."

"I am a huge fan of handwritten letters (for many reasons) and have been since I was a child," wrote J. "It's probably one of the reasons I try to send postcards to as many people as possible when I travel ... it does make a more meaningful connection than Facebook which is at most times superficial and at the best a way to stay up to date--but it isn't very meaningful on a deeper level."

They're both right. Electronic communication and social media are in so many ways fantastic developments, connecting people in ways that Samuel Morse and Alexander Graham Bell and the rest of our ancestors simply could not have imagined. These days handwritten letters are called "snail mail" for a reason--definitely not the way to go if speed is what you need. But if you're looking for connection, and reflection, and a way of building your own historical collection, it's in your hands.

SPEAKING OF SNAIL MAIL: I love these bloggers who have embraced the term and turned defamation into celebration. Check out Snail-Mail Aficionado, Snail Mail Madness and Viva Snail Mail!

A Happy Anachronism

More than once on this letter-writing journey it has become obvious that I, with my love of the handwritten word, am a bit of an antique.

Let's face it: people don't expect you to send them anything physical these days. We "send" and "receive" trillions of intangible bits and bytes, but far, far fewer items go in actual envelopes, with stamps.

Take, for instance, my experience in writing to former U.S. senator and presidential candidate Bill Bradley. Wondering where to send my letter, I went to Mr. Bradley's website. I could find an e-mail address, but no physical location. I ultimately settled for sending Mr. Bradley's letter in care of Sirius Satellite Radio, on which his "American Voices" show is broadcast. I'm still curious as to whether it ever reached him.

I was reminded again of my outdated ways when a friend was hospitalized. When he posted on his Facebook wall that he had been discharged, I responded that I had sent him a letter and hoped that the hospital would forward it to him. Another friend was quick to chime in: "A letter? I wouldn't even know where to buy stamps anymore!!"

I know where. I know the location of the post office nearest to my office and the one nearest to my home. I can tell you which area post office has the latest pick up time and which ones have automated postal centers, those nifty stamp vending machines that, depending on the day, can make me just as happy as any apparatus dispensing M&Ms or pretzels. I'm not above admitting that I get a preternatural high out of applying postage to a stack of neatly addressed envelopes.

But I'll admit a tiny bit of self-consciousness too. A few letters besides Mr. Bradley's I have sent to people at their jobs, the only places I could locate them. Staying true to the art of handwritten correspondence, I address each envelope in longhand as well. No matter how neatly I print, however, I can't help but think of the anthrax-ridden missives showing up at television stations after 9/11, with their scrawled addresses. And I wonder, do I look crazy? I can only hope that my recipients--and their mail room managers, and their secretaries--don't judge proverbial books by their covers.

THANKS FOR FOLLOWING! I was delighted to discover that Love From Kaz, author of the wonderful letter-writing blog I love letters, is now following The Letter Jar. I have wondered about this "paradoxical blog"--Blogging about handwritten communication? How odd!--how exciting to find more and more people like me!