Letterboxes and handbags
I know! What was I thinking? But it’s a scary prospect, fishing a weta and a spider out of a letterbox. What if they run up your arm?
I just came across a card from my grandmother who died 18 months ago and felt sad that that was the last one we’d receive. On the news the other day I heard that postage was going up because nobody was sending letters anymore and it was unsustainable. Letters were dying out along with my grandmothers’ generation. Of course we still communicate, copiously, but there is no longer that paper record of your intimate thoughts and feelings at a particular point of time – words chosen for an audience of one, rather than the group audiences that social media provides. I salvaged a lot of Katherine Mansfield’s dialogue in my book from her letters. I wonder how future biographers will go about recreating lives from our texts, feeds, emails and vlogs.
Also, I emptied out my handbag: