No writer is everyone’s cup of tea, but I’ve been blessed to have my
share of fans for my debut young adult novel, While I Danced. In emails, reviews on the web, and phone calls, folks
have told me that reading my story moved them emotionally. They cared about
these characters. Me too!
As a writer who’s had plenty of practice coping with rejections and “thumbs
down” on my work, these comments have meant more to me than I can possibly say.
A letter from a fan this past week was especially meaningful. It’s one I
will save and treasure for years to come. Not only was the letter beautifully written,
but it came via snail mail, buried between the bills and requests for money
that arrive in our mailbox with alarming regularity.
What a thrill to open a personal letter written in cursive in which a 90-year-old
reader talked about how the book
reminded her of “being fifteen, being in love for the first time, and most
especially dancing.” She went on to share her own delightful memories of
dancing as a child and teenager.
Whether it’s the tactile
experience of opening a handwritten letter and fingering the pages, or the
knowledge that the writer took time to make this thoughtful gesture—all I can
say is it feels different.
In fact, it feels quite wonderful.
I’m not a big resolution maker, but this lovely reader has inspired me to
resolve to send more handwritten notes to folks I care about and who’ve made a
difference in my life.
Long live snail mail!
