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Hello.

I'm Jane McIntyre, a voiceover and writer, formerly an award-winning BBC radio newsreader and producer. My blog covers life, love and loss; travel, coffee and chocolate; with some heartfelt pieces in the mix about my late dad, who had dementia. Just a click away, I'm half of the team behind www.thetimeofourlives.net - two empty nesters who whizzed round the world in 57 days.

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

Love letters--in my hand.



Did you see those reply letters David Bowie sent to his fans in the early days? Gracious; grateful responses. Lines to cherish then...and even more now.

The news of his passing coincided with a big sort-out day for me: clothes, books, paperwork...and plenty of letters of my own, all to a teenage Jane.

 Letters in Biro. In ink. In batches. In boxes...from Geoff , on his uni gap-year in Germany....from medical student Ian; reflecting on a party weekend on the south coast. And wafer-thin fold n` seal airmail ones from wafer-thin Lars from Sweden (yep...the one who, under a Magaluf palm tree an hour after meeting me, uttered the immortal line: "I love you, Yane." )

There were secrets from my teenage female friends too, going feral in fresher`s week; wild out west, Stateside; swapping suburbia for Spanish sun; then spilling the beans about the boys -- on postcards snatched from Mum as she scooped up the morning mail.

And I still have them.

I love letters bearing good news, too. There`s the one from a newspaper, offering me my first job at 19--one of three reporter posts I got offered that fortnight. (Yep...different times..) Letters from my mum after I left home, long separated from the inevitable fivers she`d mischievously stuff in the envelope `for a cornet`.

And there`s the one-liner, on an A4, lined pad, that my late Dad wrote to our youngest, Alice, while he was in hospital in the final stages of Alzheimer`s a couple of years ago. He`d pretty much forgotten how to read or write by then. But I`d chatted about Alice. And he amazed me, and the nurses, by jotting her a precious, scrawly, loving line. On a page she can keep.

This makes me sound as if I conduct all my correspondence with a quill pen. On parchment. Not true.

I`m a huge fan of social media, 2016 style. I get impatient if  two minutes pass before my Tweets are acknowledged....and climb the walls at the slow-mo pace of Facebook. But unless you screenshot and print out your favourite  texts, Whats App messages, DMs and PMs...they`re lost forever.

Which is why I love a letter, and why I`m going to try and write a few more this year. Careful if you reply, though. I might still have your words stashed away....20 years from now.


Thanks for your comments!

great blog as ever!

,  and  liked your Tweet

You should borrow the book you bought me for Christmas some time! X

have you heard about Silver Letters from the you're a pen friend to a lonley person

* waits until two minutes have passed* Funnily enough, since twitter, I have returned to the craft of letter writing.

Yes, the choice of pen and paper. Rather ridiculously, we make our own letter paper.

You can make paper from onion skins-but we buy pulp. It's as messy as jam making...


 and  Retweeted you



yeyyy shes back :) x



 Retweeted you


,  and  liked your Tweet
3h:
Morning! I wrote Love Letters In My Hand and the lovely told me all about you
 Retweeted you

3h:
See Bowie`s fanmail? My top letters: And love travelling? Me too.

 liked your Tweets
3h:
See Bowie`s fanmail? My top letters: And love travelling? Me too.



And more lovely comments from James and Lisa, below. Thanks so much! xx







2 comments:

  1. Lovely post. I am guilty of throwing out letters after a while, though this has made me think twice. I do try to write in my dairy most days to have an offline record of what has happened. I'm into my fifth year of diary-keeping now so it can't be going too badly.

    Lisa / farawaylisamae.com

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful post Jane, there is something special about a handwritten letter/note, not just that it's more personal, but also it retains a certain "something" of the writer, almost like a small part of them remains with you along with their letter.

    ReplyDelete