Dear friends and other members of the world wide web (with a title like this, did you expect anything but a letter format? I get it, it's cliché, but let me just have this ONE thing. And dirigibles.),
The written word is a beautiful thing.
That said, I'm often torn on the concept of Penmanship. See I have none to speak of. Maybe some day I'll hire a scribe for these sorts of things or a less editorialized version of Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes Quill will be released. Until then, short of forcing myself to practice perfect penmanship perpetually, I will be just like every other doctor or doctor-in-training, compensating for my bad handwriting by entering a noble profession. It's all a scam ...
Anyways, penmanship is an art that I don't expect to master in my lifetime. However, for my purposes, penmanship is simply a means to an end. In fact, I often find that I intentionally write letters on yellow legal pads and other such blasé media for writing because it puts an emphasis on content. In some ways, this is the same excuse as someone who says they intentionally dress poorly or don't take care of themselves because they believe that people should value their content over their appearances. However, my hope in the past is that it's a somewhat endearing writing medium because I write all my notes on legal pads (though recently I have, unhappily, used hole-punched, lined paper because I haven't seen a legal pad in a store in England yet ...). That said, at some point, that plainness must either find a more defined purpose, or go in the way of a slightly more attractive and substantial paper-type.
This seems to be a swing in the opposite direction after the penmanship and paper quality, but I actually do care about the content of what I write and how I choose to say it. I'd like to think that the inadequate pencraft and homely stationary in many ways help me find a flow of consciousness with which to write. At times I've been able to write a dozen or more pages full of what I hope to be a thoughtful and amusing one-sided dialogue and found that it not only helped me communicate better with the objects of my dirigible-deported dispatch (ok, maybe I'm dreaming about the zeppelin), but it also allowed me the rare opportunity to develop thoughts and ideas that take time to express to someone who you can't see or talk to very frequently. To be honest, I'll probably write mail occasionally to people who I see fairly often just because I romanticize the idea of the post and I believe that there is something meaningful, especially in the information era, to getting a letter.
When you think about the concept, it's rather elegant and personal- you're receiving the only copy. Just like an intimate conversation, you have someone's attention and have the opportunity to give them an uninterrupted glimpse into your state of mind. I'm not advocating overwhelming the letter-receiver with thought, emotions, ideas and opinions, but instead taking the now-uncommon opportunity to share some thoughts, uninterrupted, and then waiting for your epistoler to respond. One could call it quid pro quo, but that would quickly lose the spirit of the activity.
I could very easily sing the praises of letter-writing all day and night (which I'm kind of taking up to do this write now), but at some point I have to point out that the experience is nothing if not cathartic. And mildly addictive. Once you get your mind going with thoughts and ideas, it's often easy to keep writing and sharing and clearing of your mind of your thoughts until it wander as if you were out on a run or meditating. Even if you don't have one specific object of your affections that you're writing to, write to your best friends. Or the ones you've lost touch with. Or your family, old professors, politicians, public servants, old pen-pals ... Or simply write something simple to someone you wish to get to know better. Don't just wait for May 21st either (National Letter-Writing Day in Britain ...)!
My over-simplified, but strong advise is just pick up a pen and paper and start writing until you feel like stopping. Then come back a day or two later and write more and with each successive day, write until you feel like you're happy with your letter or letters. As I mentioned a while back, even simple paper and average penmanship will do just fine. I do advise against using a computer - let your hand feel the strain from chasing a train of thought. Au naturale.
The more you do it, the more you'll branch out. I wrote a letter on a piece of music once to one of my best friends, Issie, who's currently in the Peace Corps in Ecuador. I've written letters to people in the blank pages at the back of a book too. I've written on napkins and the backs of fliers and whatever else I had on hand when I felt motivated to write to someone. I (thankfully) haven't tried writing any poetry (I'm a dreadful poet), but that's always an option too. Or dig up an old photo and include it with your letter. Especially if said photo involves you and your correspondant on or in the vicinity of a dirigible.
If you're like a certain Melvillian scrivener who'd "prefer not to" then I'd only like to point out that you're missing a golden opportunity (Yes I'm aware that I just butchered Melville's short story for no apparent reason, though I'd like to point out that Bartleby's stubborness is a clear attempt to exert free will in a world with no actual free will, and he wastes away his life trying to prove a point (but more on that at a later date (woo nested parenthetical remarks)); as another side-bar in this side-bar-less blog, Melvillian seems a lot like Mel-villain ... just an observation). Anyways, I'll quit beating this horse (I swear he's not dead yet).
If you're still reading this then you know that this has gone on long enough. This isn't an advice column, I'm not a qualified advisor and outside of whiskey, directions and medicine (in a few years), my advice and opinions are probably suspect, at best. Or at least off the beaten path. I hope you've enjoyed this ode to letter-writing (one might even go so far as to call it an Elegy). I hope this finds you well.
Warm Regards,
Amar Kelkar
PS - Postscripts are always a good idea!
PS^2 - And an excellent location for non sequiturs.
PS^3 - And general frivolity.
PS^4 - However, I wouldn't recommend starting an entirely new train of thought in the post-scripts. There's always future letters ... or other letters to include in the same parcel.
PS^5 - I did forget to mention that everybody loves getting mail.
