The Correspondent was the latest title discussed by my online book club. It came highly recommended by well-read friends, but I admit I wondered how a story could be structured strictly though letters and emails. I need not have worried as this debut novel evolved naturally with well-defined characters and a narrative that eventually sucked me in.
At the onset of the book, I admit I was not fond of Sylvia Van Antwerp’s opinionated personality. I wanted more refinement and finesse in her correspondence rather than blatant opinion. Each letter whether to a friend or family member, the President, or a blockbuster movie director conveyed the precision of a prosecutor’s closing statement. While many of book’s letters were written by Sylvia, we are also privy to a portion of the responses. It is through these dialogues that we join her exploration of family history, court decisions with long-reaching consequences, and new late-in-life friendships, all moving toward a level of self-awareness and acceptance. A recognition of her own frailties and a new tenderness for others.
Having recently joined The Sunday Letter Project with the intent of putting pen to paper rather than dashing off an ephemeral email or text, I was intrigued by the decades of Sylvia’s letter writing passion. Her world of written correspondence is the stuff of future Ken Burns documentaries whereas everyday text messages with a smattering of emojis will be lost forever.
I am pondering whether to commit to The Sunday Letter Project. There is the lure of possibility in making a pledge to faraway shopkeepers in England; to write one letter each Sunday, in what they describe as “an act of reflection, connection and calm.”
I learned about this project, which includes nearly 12,000 participants from around world, in the Yarnology eNews. Gaby, one of the Winona store owners, has personally made the pledge. And, she has gone all in as the local yarn store now offers a whimsical selection of cards and stickers, as well as encouragement to yarn store customers (like me) to take the pledge.
I suspect the impetus for The Sunday Letter Project may have germinated (at least partially) as a marketing approach when the owners of the Wildflower Inspiration Co. moved their stationary business from the kitchen table to a brick-and-mortar store in Cheltenham, England. But they also describe how the concept emerged from numerous discussions with customers commenting on the lost art of letter writing. How, in an age when email is considered old fashion and texts are thumbed rapidly, with partial thoughts, generic emojis, misspelled words, and impractical or nonexistent punctuation, writing a letter conveys friendship and connection. Their website states: “We started Wildflower Illustration Co. in 2015 because we believe in the power of a handwritten note to brighten someone’s day or capture a shared memory.”
But I am still in the thinking stage. The lack of readily available supplies does not explain my hesitation. I cannot use the excuse that before beginning I would need to go shopping for stationery and stamps. I have two desk drawers full of an artistic selection of blank notecards and an unusually large supply of discounted postage purchased from Forever Stamps. No, my hesitation comes from wondering if I would have enough to say in a weekly letter without defaulting to Minnesota weather reports or having the letter read like bulleted task list.
Within my family there are motivational examples to spur on my letter writing efforts and encourage me to set aside any worries that inspiration might fall short. Nearly every week, Momma writes to her two sisters, and my aunts respond regularly with their family news. Their routine began in the 1940s when Momma went to Washington, DC as a “war girl.” Unlike their correspondence, with letters regularly going back and forth over eight decades, I would not expect the recipients of a Sunday letter to respond in kind. Rather, a letter would say – I am thinking of you. An opportunity to re-connect. A simple act of possibility.
I know the excitement of finding a “real” letter with the turn of the mailbox key, not a catalog, or an appeal for money, or an advertisement. Just days ago, I received a beautiful, 5×7 inch card written on two sides offering appreciation for a short sympathy note. That this individual, amid her deep sorrow from losing her father, would sit down and write not the obligatory funeral home card with just the name of the deceased, but an entire letter was humbling. And inspirational. To think that by taking the pledge to participate inThe Sunday Letter Project that I might slow down and find balance or brighten someone else’s day is indeed an act of possibility. Maybe it is time to join 11, 575 other Sunday letter writers in the possibility of connection.
Graphics: The Wildflower Illustration Co. and The Sunday Letter Writing Project, Cheltenham, England.
