No-one writes letters any more. Personal letters, not ones from the bank, I mean.
Letters played such an important role in my life. And still I only write one a year.
Letters are where my writing started. When I lived far from home in New York. In those pre-digital days, pen and paper was the only way to communicate. Other than hideously expensive transatlantic telephone calls at a dollar a minute.
Letters, dull on rereading, prompted playing around with language and making jokes. Vitally, recording what I felt rather than what I saw. My website guides continued in the same style. The blog, too.
Letters that wooed Dolores. Portraying a me better than reality.
Letters that I loved writing so much. And still I only write one a year.
Unibex and its Saviour - Saint Michael In August 1948 the Leader Republican, a small-town newspaper in New York State, carried this wire dispatch: Belgian Brewers Make Drive for Wo...
6 hours ago