Emails have always seemed to me to be a very informal method of sending mail. The minuscule ‘Hi’ and the nondescript ‘Hello’ definitely do not suit all situations. Very occasionally, ‘Good morning/Good afternoon….Mr/Mrs’ turns up; it’s easy enough to similarly respond, if I know of the writer, though not if it is mail from the business. Business emails are business communications like any that are delivered by postal mail services. They just do not look like it, or, maybe, it’s just they do not look like the business mail I have been used to.
If it’s a formal communication conventions state I should respectfully open with, ‘Dear Sir’, or, ‘Dear Madam’ or, a combined version of both; I have never considered any particular business entity dear to me, nor anyone in it with whom I may have developed a working business relationship. (Oh dear). Looking at terms of endearment, I am no further forward in creating alternative salutations for the purpose.
I might feel less inhibited if I felt free to open with something nicely terse at times. Huffing and puffing, I might just consider dropping terms of endearment and begin, “Sir”, or, “Madam”. It’s the worst I can allow myself to do. Undoubtedly, this is exactly the reason for beginning a written correspondence in a traditionally, accepted, mannerly, style, at all times. The moment your thoughts turn to ‘dear….’ the system structure draws you into its conventional framework. And dropping ‘dear’ to a curt ‘Sir or Madam’ only frames a much more formal, but still a conventionally acceptable mailing. So be it.
The written word speaks volumes.
FOREIGN LEGION – CONSIGNMENTS & LEFT LUGGAGE
A new year and I feel as if I have lost the art of succinct writing, or, neatly saying what I mean. I envy just a teensy weensy bit, the writers who can encapsulate a major thought, or a vital description into a few apt words. To paraphrase an historical giant of the written word, I feel, if I become tired of writing I will be tired of observing and participating in life. That would be just too immense an emasculation of my senses to contemplate.
Perhaps it is the gentle warmth of spontaneous creativity I want. You could say that writing anything, be it a business letter, or business email is being creative. They are hardly communications for which you would usually create poetic prose: but, why shouldn’t they be? An answer to the question is, it rests on the purpose for which they are written and how the communications flow. The writing voice depends whether there is a demand upon you to write as opposed to responding to a natural urge to write.
I have, at last, finished reading a book which has opened a Pandora’s Box of uncomfortable feelings. It is no overstatement to say the story is, in a perverse way, an engrossing and powerful read. I took a break from the book just over half way through it to restore my inner self to its familiar, more comfortable state. Though the writer is giving us the power of our own free will to be involved, he is also rendering the reader to be actively powerless. Being disempowered is an extremely uncomfortable place to be. And this is the position in which, swathes of the world’s population reside. Selection Day, by Aravind Adiga, published this year, is not a read for the faint-hearted. It is a very clever writer who can connect a reader to almost participate in the linking destructive events that lead to the final denouement.
I have read one other book by the same writer, it was the Man Booker Prizewinner 2008. The White Tiger. Adiga later admitted that he had had to watch his back after exposing in this book a variety of cultural norms within a society he knows well. The White Tiger is a very good, high quality and exciting read with superb pacing. I found myself being curious about the the effects of the breadths and the depths of the social and economic corruption he unwrapped in his story, and its global reach.
Coming back to nearer home, I have just started reading Ian Rankin’s very first Rebus book, Knots and Crosses. I thought it might be a good idea to introduce myself to an Edinburgh writer, a writer who has grown in stature. I am hoping that introducing myself to his literary characters will create another interesting link with Edinburgh…….we’ll see
Nothing in particular to report, though there is plenty to occupy my thoughts. There is is just too much. I don’t imagine for one minute that I am alone in feeling I am on thinking and analysis overload.
© M-Digital Doodles
Living in such tumultuous and shambolic times it would be easy to behave like an ostrich and bury my head in the sand. In the Russian equivalent analogy, the ostrich is ‘hiding its head under its wing’. The Russian Ostrich would have a cosier and warmer hideout, with the ability for an occasional surreptitious glance out to see if worldly things were a little quieter: peaceful would be really good.
© Photo By M-Wishing-In-The-Wind
“How are you finding the book?” I was sitting quietly on my own in the bar eatery, reading. I was interrupted, gladly, with that question. I briefly studied my questioner, a lady with two boisterous children in tow. I tried not to screw up my face, I don’t think I was very successful…….”I’m having problems with it”
her – “So did I….it was a bit Hickory, it went on a bit“. ……..
Me -“I think I understand what you mean; It’s hard work, I am skimming more than reading“, adding that the book had been a gift about three years ago and I had just got round to reading it, (well, trying to).
We enlightened each other about what other books we had read by the same author, none so tedious as this one. “BUT!” she said with a great flourish and a big smile, “I did read to the end …I finished it!”
Today, after another couple of attempts, I firmly decided I was not going to continue to wrestle with the book….there was no point.
I might come out to play now.
There are still the remains of sales in some local shops. I am looking for something in particular and I was in the one shop that might just have provided it. I browsed the department upstairs where you find cushions, bedding, curtains and some menswear. So far no luck, I could not see what I wanted. All the staff work downstairs, which is where I found a shop assistant. While I was asking, it occurred to me that she might not understand what I was looking for:
Me –“I am looking for a counterpane, do you have any?” Assistant- “ Could you tell me what that might be?”
It seemed I was speaking a foreign language. I explain it is a bed-cover….she continues to look vacantly at me….. I’m thinking quickly about what might be the current trendy modern bed-cover translation and I tentatively suggest “A throw”.
Some comprehension dawns. The assistant tells me there are no throws……“Throws are for Christmas” ❗
Have you ever felt you wanted to write something meaningful and all you could muster was a blank, zilch, de nada, niente, rien? That’s where I am at; blank, blank and even blanker. If I was being counselled by Sigmund Freud, what would he have deduced?
Usually, I would find a picture or two to give a visual flow to a post. I am stumped. I could post any number of empty picture frames, but what would be the point. I wonder what a blank emoticon would look like, especially if it was not based on recognisable imagery….. I have definitely drawn a blank.
Spotted in an online catalogue.
How tempting is this………………
- DIVIDED WOODEN BOX MAKES IDEAL STORAGE FOR YOUR MOST PRECIOUS DECORATIONS.
- SUITABLE FOR VEGETARIANS.”
I looked at about a dozen posts today, all from contributors to WordPress who are new to me. As I passed on to the next, then the next, it occurred to me that just two or three posts invited comments. A few only invited ‘likes’ and linked to other social media sites; others were statements either in words or pictures on a page. I wondered if they were meant to be found, might my glimpses of them be intrusive. There are writers who never venture forth from their own blog platforms, though they will reply to a commenter. Call me old fashioned, I do mingle, enjoying the mutual sharing and social contact that it generates.
On reflection. I questioned whether writing ‘blanks’ was what a lot of people did today and if so, why. It opens up a lot of conjecture with no way of gaining any direct answers. One way communication is not intercommunication; it is, I grant you, communicating…but what? Still I come back to my central question, why?
There was one post I came across that was a friendly, descriptive, sharing one, on which, I was able to and did leave a comment.
Due to the continuing number of nuisance mails I have been getting since posting a particular post about so-called top blogs, I have switched on comment approval for the very first time since I have posted on WordPress. I hope it will become unnecessary in the longer term to approve comments. Meantime, I hope you won’t notice much difference, other than a little delay in comments appearing.
Thank you to one and all. xx