I’m currently reading the collected letters of John Keats, and finding them absolutely delightful. They are wonderfully written, but in a relaxed way, since he never expected them to be seen by any one outside his circle of friends.
Reading them has got me wondering why we don’t write more letters. I exchanged a few letters with my lovely California Lizzie last summer, and loved it. But really, as writers it doesn’t even matter if we have anybody to write to. We should be writing letters anyway. Write them to people you love. Write them to people you hate. Write them to your past self. Write them to your future self. Write them to your fictional characters. Write them from your fictional characters.
Just write ’em.
That is all I have to say.