On being a letterer*

*no not the comic book kind. My kind of letterer. Deal.

Today I have written three letters, the first ones for a while. It takes something out of me, which I can’t always tap into or give. I hadn’t noticed when writing one or two a time, but when I wrote four one Saturday, I realised how much energy was going into each one. Just as much as a story. More maybe. They quite often become more personal that I aim for, especially knowing that there won’t be a response. I often get more philosophical than I mean to too, but somehow that can make me work out what is buzzing around my head in that unreachable space. The process is a little like meditation.

Letters

I started writing letters for From Me to You in March. I already sent irregularly timed letters to friends which is why Alison invited me along to their letter writing workshop at Waterstones Piccadilly. Working with From Me to You, I often write to complete strangers who are currently dealing with cancer. This was something I wish I had done for loved ones in the past but these letters have provided so much that I couldn’t have foreseen.

When you’re ill and dealing with the onslaught of treatment, having some escape is vital. You may not have the energy to read a whole book, or the conversations you have with friends may have a habit of coming back to your illness and the limitations it can bring. I have written about my fears around depression, and I can only relate in that way – having never had cancer, but there have also been frank conversations with loved ones who have had cancer who didn’t want to talk about themselves but wanted to hear my stories about my day, or what I was passionate about right in that moment.

So that’s what I try to share with the recipients of my letterees (yes, I just made that word up. If you can be a letterer – I know it’s not the right context, who cares – then you can be a letteree). At first I used to try to justify why I was writing. I felt selfish because I couldn’t ask and listen to what was happening with them, until I realised that was part of the point. This way, the letteree gets to access a whole other life in a moment. Occasionally From Me to You send me the name and a little info about someone who has been nominated to receive letters. I’ve been writing to one man for a little while now, and it was so rewarding to hear that what I’m sending is making his days easier and making him smile. We both have a love for Marvel so I’ve been sharing my theories about the current Netflix series and the latest films. It doesn’t have to be Plato-level philosophy!

The fact that I get something from it also feels selfish, but it’s a thought I’ve learnt to put aside. I give more than I would if I were just making a monetary donation, and instead of a sticker or a badge I get some insight back. If it’s not something that person wants to read, I can’t stop that or fix it – but there is something beautiful about the serendipity of just sending words out into the wider world. That in turn has helped me relax about the stories I write and where they will end up finding homes. See, it is the gift that keeps on giving.

If you’d like to find out more about From Me to You, and how you can become a letter writer (or letterer in my world), then visit their site.

The gift of giving (the non-book one)

Around this time of year, I’ve normally given out enough book recommendations to make me think a post about it would be a useful thing to create. This year is no exception, but this blog won’t be that one. That’ll be the next one, probably tomorrow – I know, two blogs in two days after six months of silence. Shock. Horror.

So what’s this one about?

I’ve recently taken up a BuddyBox subscription from the Blurt Foundation. It’s a little self-care based gift to myself once a month. A surprise (because I always forget when they send them) often appearing when I need it the most. I wish I’d thought I was deserving of this sooner, and I’m glad that I’m buying it for myself although I’m sure it would make an excellent gift too. This month, the box included Blurt’s new little magazine. In it, was an article about what to do with your empty buddy box. It suggested refiling it to give to Give and Makeup.

Give and Makeup is a non-profit initiative whose sole purpose is to get everyday essentials into the hands of women and children who need them the most.

We are currently running our Shoebox Campaign for the Christmas Season 2016.

To donate, please send a shoebox/small box filled with appropriate gifts to:

Give and Makeup
PO BOX 855
LONDON
W4 4AW

They can have anything – pyjamas, clothing, slippers, books, crayons, colouring books, suitable dvd’s (they will be checked), toys, sweets, chocolate, magazines, comics, dolls – pretty much anything that you know a child/young person will appreciate.

As always please ensure the following:

  • gifts are suitable for ages between newborn and 15
  • no toy weapons
  • no items of a religious nature
  • new or nearly new please
  • boxes can be packed according to one child/gender or a mixture across all ages.

I’ve been struggling with the thought of Christmas this year, more aware somehow of those who don’t have all we do – the safety of a home, the warmth from love as well as heat. It’s been a growing feeling in a year that has turned the world on its head in so many ways, not just because of the upcoming holidays. There feels like there is so little one can do to make the world a better place when I think of all the atrocities.

This article reminded me of the smallest things can have an impact on someone, if not many. Helping one is better than none. So I’ve filled my small box with as much as I can which I hope will help a teenage girl somewhere out there.

Box for Give and Makeup

If you would like to join me in this, please do. There are so many causes, but reaching out and connecting with someone could make a difference to 2017. I hope.