Last night, I wrote my first ever but nice fan letter to an author I admire, "love" and read. When I finished the letter, I felt oddly silly, childish, but I am not a silly little teenager with a crush writing to heroes/heartthrobs in film, TV or bands: I am a grown woman with a family of my own. What would my letter achieve? It probably wouldn't get read by the author, so what was the point? I feel bereft as if I have lost something [did I have marbles to begin with?] of myself.... Perhaps it is like unrequited love, giving but not receiving. Did I expect to receive anything in return? Do I want something in return? I write letters, letters that are bits of myself, to prospective penpals hoping to get replies and develop penfriendships, but if I do not receive replies, those bits of me are lost.
I nearly didn't put a stamp on. I did however affix one this morning. I nearly didn't post it when I was out in town, but I did. Even after posting, I didn't feel happy: sending nice mail is supposed to make me happy. Am I just being silly, feeling this way? Have you ever written fanmail (and have you received anything in return)? I'm not sure I will do so again. If I receive anything in return, I will let you know.
