24 January 2021

Put it on paper

Emails are great. They have two clear advantages over conventional letters:


a. They're fast

b. They don't get lost


However, emails cannot fully replace conventional letters. There's just something magical about receiving, opening and reading a letter. (Unless it's a letter from the hospital that informs you that the blood in your stools was not hemorrhoids after all.) 


And let's not forget the wonderful people who make that magic happen: postmen. (Three cheers for posties the world over.) 


Occasionally I write to people whom I don't know personally. These are some of the people I wrote to:


Christopher Booker


British journalist who died not long ago. In 2004 he wrote a book called The Seven Basic Plots. It's a book that took him more than thirty years to write. In the early 70s Booker wondered if it was true what some people said, namely that in fiction there's just a small number of basic stories that keep coming up over and over again. He then embarked in reading lots of novels and short stories and watching lots of movies and tv dramas, and started grouping them according to their plots. 


After many years, he concluded that there are just seven basic stories that keep recurring (though he admitted that there areothers, but they are not common). It's a big book, and to be honest it's a bit repetitive at times, but I did enjoy reading it. It makes you see things in a different light. 


In my letter I expressed my appreciation, made a few considerations, but I also wrote a small criticism. In his book, Booker slagged off The Catcher in the Rye. By all means, people are allowed not to like it, but I thought his criticism completely missed the point of the novel. Not to sound arrogant, but I thought he didn't get it. 


I didn't expect a reply, but to my surprise, a few weeks after posting the letter I received an email (a long one) from him, where he addressed all my points. He also stuck to his guns regarding The Catcher. Fair enough.


Sergio Bonelli


The founder and boss of Bonelli, the largest publisher of comics in Italy (the Italian equivalent of Marvel in the US, or Dargaud in France, or Casterman in Belgium). He also died not that long ago. (Am I jinxing it by writing to these people?) I wrote a letter to him to express some concerns I had regarding the direction one of his best-selling comic was taking. 


I got a reply from him in person, not from an editor. And not an email but an actual letter, signed by him. That letter is now safely stored away, and I cherish it the same way a Christian would cherish a nail from the cross. (If anything, a letter is unique, whereas a nail is just a nail. They're all the same.)


Frederik Schodt


American comics historian who wrote a pioneering, seminal book on Japanese comics all the way back in 1983, when no one in the West knew anything about Japanese comics. Of course I didn't read it back then but in the early 2000s, and it still blew my mind. I heard nothing for months, and forgot all about it, then around December time (that was a few years ago) I received a Christmas card from him. It made my day.


Giancarlo Berardi


Italian writer of comics. (Some people just write comics, others just draw them. He's a writer.) This letter was a shameless, obsequious, flattering affair. I did some serious ass-kissing. I kissed ass like I never kissed ass before in my life. 


I reckon he's one of the top ten writers of comics ever. (And yet no one knows him outside of the boot.) His characters are so real they stay with you, long after you've finished reading the story. In fact, you never forget them. His stories gave me a lump in the throat more times than I care to admit. 


The guy is 70 now, so I thought I had better write to him before he kicks the bucket. (Unless it's my letter that kills him off, like the first two.) He also replied by letter. A very kind one. If this house is ever engulfed in flames one day, let's just hope I'm not put in the position where I have to choose between that letter and my family. I'm just saying.


Michael Barrier


American comics historian who wrote a fascinating book on post-war comics aimed at very young children (non-superhero stuff, mostly anthropomorphic animals). I got a short email from him after quite some time. He said his publisher took ages to forward the letter to him. (As you can imagine, all my letters are addressed to the publishers. I don't have these people's home address, of course.)


I don't know what prompted me to start writing letters, but it’s fun.


(As a kid, back in Italy, I wrote a letter to a magazine called Superbowl. It was a monthly magazine dedicated to American football. I used to read it religiously. To my surprise they published it. I didn't keep that issue, but I'm not bothered. I remember what I wrote. It was a lot of nonsense. I was young. In fact I can't believe they published it. If I was them I would've just binned it.)


I don't really have a point to make here, except that if you feel like writing to someone perhaps you should do it. What's the worst that could happen?