Type Like Satchmo, Write Like a Genius
Musician wrote letters in trains, backstages, hotel rooms, everywhere
Louis Armstrong loved to write, and write he did behind stages, in hotel rooms and trains, anywhere he could get privacy, some quiet and a moment to think.
Throughout his life, he typed letters, articles, books on portable manual typewriters. If you’re familiar with these machines, you’ll know they’re not easy for tapping out longer pieces. It’s more hunt and peck and less all fingers on an electric typewriter keyboard. You really have to punch the keys to get the keys on a portable to strike the page, and God Almighty, make an imprint people can read. Even when Satchmo (Armstrong’s nickname) could have easily afforded an electric typewriter, he stuck to his portables, easy to carry inside their zippered cases.
He typed thousands of letters, mostly to fans. I imagine those letters tucked away in scrapbooks, inside a shoebox, tied up with a ribbon with other important letters. Letter writing: this is how you keep the muse alive when you’re not writing articles, queries, books and reviews. Letter writing might feel like a waste of time and writing, but it’s not for a few important reasons. See below.
You’re Creating a Memoir, Letter by Letter. Think of the books that have been compiled of letters by famous authors and editors. Those are books, mini memoirs, a snapshot in time. My favorite books of letters has been one compiled from Flannery O’Connors’ missives, the book of correspondence between Scott Fitzgerald and his editor Maxwell Perkins. Right now, I’m slogging through a book of letters from Seamus Heaney. It would be more enjoyable if I was a fan of Heamus, but I barely know the man. It’s a thick beast at 848 pages. I’ll likely return the book to the library soon. But look up other books of letters at the library. They’re often a study of process, how a writer went from an idea to writing to rewriting to frustration with rewriting to a published book. You’ll relate to many a letter and/or a paragraph or two.
You’re Creating a Relationship, letter by letter. Actor Tom Hanks is known for responding to letters, no kidding. Some fans think it’s usually a one-shot deal. You write to him, he responds. For many fans, that’s true. But for a few privileged fans, he actually has a friendship and they correspond regularly. Hanks isn’t the only one. YouTube typewriter star Joe Van Cleave has regular correspondence with many typewriter enthusiasts around the world (I’m one of them). Like Hanks, he usually answers letters in batches when he has time. He’s shown video of himself in the backyard of his Albuquerque, N.M. home smoking a cigar and typing on a portable atop a small table. the carriage return threatening to overturn the whole operation. Also like Hanks, Van Cleave types on a different typewriter every time he writes his ‘fans.’
You’re making of record of affirmation for future bad times. Oh, the bad times, they’ll come, maybe even next week. I’m largely talking about rejection and the hard times of a writer. Your book proposal has been rejected, book sales are down, you don’t have enough paid writing work, your editor wants you to rewrite yet again. You feel horrible, like you have no talent. Instead of pouring a drink, going to the nearest bar, you dip into the bundle of letters from fans, family and other writers. You seek confirmation that you have talent, other people love what you write and finally: YOUR WRITING CHANGED SOMEONE’S LIFE. At the end of day, it’s not the money we make from writing that makes us feel good about ourselves. It’s the effect that our writing has on others. Ray Bradbury broke down in tears once when a reader told him to his face that his writing changed his life. Bradbury made a lot of money from his books and screenplays, yet what moved him most? Another man’s tears over a book he wrote. Did Bradbury have a box of letters from fans? Dunno. But knowing what I know, he would have encouraged corresponding with other writers by mail. He was not a fan of computers. He used typewriters all through his career, beginning with an on-site library rental for Fahrenheit 451 through his late career when he typed on a Selectric with a collection of type elements (balls with different typefaces) he could change out on a whim.
Keep a Carbon, Strengthen a Future Memoir. Virtually no one keeps a carbon of their own writing these days, not when you have a personal copier next to your desk. But think about what book you might be able to write and publish if you keep a carbon of all your letters. I’ve a former friend (long story) who regularly wrote to Isaac Asimov back in the 1970s, and he wrote back to her. She’s got an Asimov letter framed on a wall in her bungalow. I imagine that her letters to Asimov are in an archive somewhere. She’d have a book if she could wrangle all those letters, her missives and Asimov’s responses. If she had carbons for her own letters, imagine how much easier her task would be. Think about keeping carbons for ‘important’ letters to authors you admire. I’ve a manila folder filled with business letter carbons that I’ve kept mostly for follow-up. It’s a bit neglected, but I think the folder would be more robust and active, if it was part of a regular correspondence. Carbons are easy to find at the local office supply store. I’ve got them in red and blue from Lainie at Ribbons Unlimited. You can re-use them to your aorta’s content.
That’s it, friends. Think about what writer out there (besides Hanks) you might enjoy corresponding with. Picture the joy you feel every time you open the mailbox to receive a letter from your writer friend. Imagine the effect that letter has on your own writing. Reflect on how your correspondence might help improve your own writing, affect your publishing career. Cast yourself ahead 10-20 years, you’ve got this box of letters from your friends. Type like Satchmo, write the author you were meant to be come. Armstrong himself said, “The greatest thing is to get your feeling,” I’m not sure if that was about music, writing, but it doesn’t matter. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction to be gained from seeing your words printed on an actual piece of paper.
So be like Satchmo. Type a letter. Dig out a fountain pen for the task (Satchmo did that too). Don’t lick a stamp but do put one in the upper right hand corner of your envelope. Do all this today. Make a difference to someone else a few days from now when they unseal your letter with a letter opener. Reread. It’s good stuff, honestly. .
Share in the comments the last time you typed a letter and popped it in the mail.
