Reviving the lost art of letter writing: ‘Any handwritten letter is a love letter of sorts’

Letter writing, like vinyl records, film cameras and the Irish language, is enjoying a renaissance

Coibhe Butler of Plunkett Press Stationers: 'My customers have always put pen to paper, but in recent years they couldn’t find good stationery so they’d stopped writing letters'
Coibhe Butler of Plunkett Press Stationers: 'My customers have always put pen to paper, but in recent years they couldn’t find good stationery so they’d stopped writing letters'

Emails, texts, tweets, posts – in the 21st century, we write more than ever but without putting pen to paper. We frequently and casually fire off digital messages using generic text speak and enigmatic emojis, which reveal little about the individual behind the digital device.

When handwriting rather than typing was the norm, letters and cards turned a lens on to the person holding the pen. How you dotted your i’s and crossed your t’s said something about your personality; so did the type of paper you chose and the style of pen you used.

There’s time and thought required in the penmanship of a letter, two things considered anathema to our busy modern lives, especially now that AI can spit out something sufficient in seconds.

Personal cards and letters now make up just 7 per cent of letters sent via An Post (the rest are generated by businesses or Government bodies). The overall volume of letters is down by 8 per cent in the past year alone, and is just half of what it was a decade ago.

But like vinyl, film cameras and the Irish language, letter writing is enjoying a renaissance among some people who still appreciate the value of putting pen to paper, or receiving a letter or card through the letterbox.

Coibhe Butler, founder of Plunkett Press, a hand-printed stationery company, has been writing letters to her best friend, novelist Ally Bunbury, for the past 25 years. “My mother used to write to me too,” says Butler, “when she wanted to say something important, or if she was worried. I don’t remember any of the phone calls I had with her, but I remember the letters.”

Completing the letter-writing process requires a persistent mindset for a procrastinatorOpens in new window ]

Like most good businesses, Plunkett Press was the solution to a problem: Butler was unable to source good-quality writing paper anywhere in Ireland.

“My husband and I had always bought stationery from Gee Brothers in the UK, but with Brexit it became ridiculously expensive. His friend had an uncle living in west Cork, who had a lovely traditional printing press in a studio overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. At 83, he’d retired from the business, so I thought maybe it was something I could do.”

Butler and her husband travelled to Cork and were gifted the letterpress, along with many trays of lead type. “We drank tea in the garden and did a lovely handover that day,” Butler recalls. The couple returned to their Co Wicklow home and set up the press in a former potting shed in the back garden.

Plunkett Press launched in 2020 and today, business is brisk. “My customers have always put pen to paper, but in recent years they couldn’t find good stationery so they’d stopped writing letters. They come to me saying how glad they are to have found us.”

'The difference between writing on a page of Foolscap and a piece of good-quality paper is the difference between sourdough and a sliced pan.' Photograph: iStock
'The difference between writing on a page of Foolscap and a piece of good-quality paper is the difference between sourdough and a sliced pan.' Photograph: iStock

She uses specially selected Italian paper with cotton fibres, which has a softness that allows the letterpress to leave a deep impression, and each piece is hand-printed, one at a time. For Butler’s long-time pen pal Bunbury, “the difference between writing on a page of Foolscap and a piece of good-quality paper is the difference between sourdough bread and a sliced pan”.

A significant percentage of the Plunkett Press’s customers are men. “One of our best customers is the CEO of a hospital and he writes letters to his staff when he wants to motivate or thank them,” she says.

But it’s not only Baby Boomers and Gen Xers enjoying the ritual of handwriting a letter. Many of Butler’s customers are parents who buy stationery for their children. They look at letter-writing as a good habit to be passed on, like honesty or punctuality. Jemima Bunbury, the daughter of Ally and historian Turtle Bunbury, is 18 years old and she has been writing letters since she was old enough to hold a pen, despite being part of a digital native generation.

“I think letter writing is more special and personal than a text or email,” she says, “and you can keep letters and look back on them.” Jemima sends thank-you letters after she’s been to a party or when she receives a gift. “I’ve had lots of adults tell me how much they enjoyed the letter I wrote,” she adds. She usually writes on her mum’s stationery, but for her 18th birthday, she was given a present of writing paper from a family friend. “It’s really nice to have my own paper. That feels quite special,” she adds.

Monogrammed stationery from the Plunkett Press.
Monogrammed stationery from the Plunkett Press.

“Some situations deserve more than a text message,” Butler says. “If someone has gone to a lot of trouble and invited us for dinner or a weekend away, I’ll give it a day or two, then handwrite a card and post it to say thanks. I’ll often write a few lines to a friend I haven’t seen in ages rather than send a text.”

In a digital world built on rapid information and constant stimulation, Jemima finds the process of letter writing relaxing. Similarly, for 34-year-old Lex Duff, the slowness of the process appeals. A photojournalist who works with film rather than digital cameras, the Australian native says there’s something lovely about writing a letter and the delay between sending and receiving. “It’s the nature of film too; you have to wait for it to be developed.”

When you sit somewhere nice and quiet with quality paper and a pen that feels good

—  Coibhe Butler

Duff writes to her friends and to her Irish mum back home in Australia. “I have godchildren all over the world who I don’t get to spend one-on-one time with, so instead of sending them something, I write them postcards. My goddaughter in Australia is two years old. Her mum keeps all of the cards, but there’s an age at which they will mean something to her.”

Duff also writes to herself. “Professionally, I’m living the dream I had a few years ago so when I’m on photo shoots, I write little vignettes to myself. When the letters arrive, I can relive that tactile, sensory experience.” She loves the tangible and thoughtful nature of letters.

“Any kind of letter that’s handwritten is a love letter of sorts. We tend to get to the truth much faster in a letter,” she says. “It’s easy to faff around on a voice note or in a text, but when we actually sit down to write to someone, we think about what to say and we express real emotions like ‘love you’ or ‘thinking of you’.”

Róisín Ingle: I have a list in my head of unwritten letters. Now I will write themOpens in new window ]

Perhaps this is why initiatives like Letters Live have gained such traction over the past decade or so. Inspired by the book Letters of Note by Shaun Usher, which has sold hundreds of thousands of copies since it was first published in 2013, the touring event features well-known faces reading “remarkable letters” aloud.

Written by characters as diverse as Kathryn Hepburn and Gandhi, Queen Victoria and Buzz Aldrin – even Marge Simpson features – they cover every facet of the human experience, expressed through an individual’s private voice. We can visualise those iconic, glamorous or intimidating figures in a private moment because there’s something very experiential about the whole process of handwriting a letter.

“When you sit somewhere nice and quiet with quality paper and a pen that feels good, there’s a calmness and a completeness to it,” Butler says. “I have gifts of very expensive pens, but they tend to stay in their boxes because they’re precious.” Instead, she uses a Lamy Safari fountain pen – she is keen to bring the ink pen back into the everyday. “They write really nicely and they come in a beautiful selection of colours – bright red, turquoise, mustard yellow. They’re not expensive so if I lose one, I don’t mind.”

Duff writes on paper from a “beautiful old journal I picked up in Venice a couple of years ago”. She is very specific about pens and would never write with a blue pen. “For my 30th birthday, my friends at home pitched in and bought me a gorgeous old writing desk; it was an old barrister’s desk. I think all of these things add to the tactility of the experience,” she says.

Bunbury believes there’s a strong feeling of completion and accomplishment that comes with writing and posting a letter that has real value for a younger generation. So she and Butler have launched Letter Writing Heroes.

Together, they travel to primary schools with their hand-printing machine, paper and pens and create personalised stationery for each child. The students then handwrite a letter, address the envelope, stamp it and take it to a post box, completing the task by pushing it through the mouth. “We visited fourth class and nobody knew how to address an envelope. We were shocked,” Bunbury says.

The children – girls and boys – are fascinated by letter writing, Butler says. “We thought they’d laugh us out of it,” she admits. “But they love it and they put so much thought into who they write to.” Butler recalls one school mum explaining that her son had written his letter to an aunt who is a nurse. One of her patients had died that day, and arriving home to find his letter waiting meant the world to her.

Whether or not letter-writing becomes a lost art remains to be seen, but there will always be an enduring fascination with the handwritten note. Nothing can replace the amount of love, patience and time that goes into creating something by hand, so if you’re out of ideas for Christmas gifts, write a letter instead.