Writers deal with words. It is a simple truth that we too often take for granted. Words are our currency, our wealth. They are the raw materials which we bend, twist, and cobble together to make a story something real and deep, that will hopefully establish an emotional connection with others. We more often than not find initially that we have constructed a rusted tin shack instead of the multi-storied, gleaming edifice that we had originally envisioned. So we try again, and again. If we are lucky, we eventually get it right, or close to a reasonable facsimile thereof.
Sometimes it takes pages to accomplish this; at other times, however, we can get it just right in a couple of sentences. I was recently — this evening, actually — on the receiving end of one of those experiences where the latter occurred and I had to share it with you. It wasn’t something that I wrote that established the connection; it was something that was sent to me.
There is of course a back story. Annalisa, our younger daughter, turned seventeen today. Following several weeks of non-responsiveness to the question of what she wanted for her birthday, Annalisa gave us a list of camera lenses to pick and choose from. None of them were currently in manufacture, which necessitated a run through eBay. I ultimately found them through a number of merchants, including one named Yoko Ishiwatari in Kanagawa, Japan. Ms. Ishiwatari, who has a one hundred percent favorable eBay rating, sent me an email within an hour of my placing an order with her, thanking me for my patronage and assuring me that my purchase would be processed immediately. She later sent me tracking information, again thanking me for my order. The camera lens I ordered from her arrived within a week, right on time for Annalisa’s birthday, and was exactly what she wanted. That would have been enough. Ms. Ishiwatari, however, included something else, that being the note which I have reproduced at the top of this entry. It’s hanging on the wall in my office right now, where I can look it as I sit and type these words. It serves as a reminder to do things right and on time and to be polite and kind while you’re doing it, and to give those who favor you with their time and money what the folks in Louisiana call lagniappe, or “a little something extra.” It will also be for me an admonishment that sometimes simple works just fine. Ms. Ishiwatari did all of that for me in three sentences, and I will be forever grateful. That, to me, is great writing. And, in case you are wondering, the item in the upper right hand corner of the letter is an example of origami, in this case a swan. It’s beautifully done as well. When folded out, it almost seems as if it is ready to take flight.
I’ve shared with you. If you would, tell us about a bit of writing — formal or informal, personal or otherwise — that has positively affected you recently, anything from a note on a card to some random graffiti to an addition to Post Secret.We’d love to know.