Letters

I never really thought about letters as a story, that is until recently. I mean, I always knew that letters were a way of telling something, but I never thought of a letter as a way of writing a story. Sure, there is the book Dear Mr. Henshaw, but I had always HATED that book. This kid was writing his life to this guy. I remember, not finishing the book because of how much I hated it. My teacher thought that that was funny. Of course I got in trouble, but that’s not the point. I never understood why a person would write their life in letters. But there is one writer, I do not remember her name, but I remember her life being written in letters and put into a book. I believe that these letters were to herself, a nickname, just a way of expressing herself and getting everything out that she wanted to. It makes sense and is a good way to keep a diary. Rather than the “dear diary” entry, which is what most young girls do, she made a nickname and wrote to that person.

I can see why writing a letter is a good way to take that energy and write it down, yet I don’t think it necessarily needs to be addressed to a relative or friend. I do believe that writing for oneself to let it all out and let all of the expression and emotion is for the better. It’s like in poetry. The poet writes for himself/herself, not for anyone else, even if the poem is written about someone else. To express, for oneself, opens a door or a window that shut, or at least cracks it open for the person.