Reviving the lost art of letter writing
Like vinyl, film cameras and the Irish language, letter writing is enjoying a renaissance. Marie Kelly speaks with four individuals who love putting pen to paper.
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 not typing was the norm, letters and cards turned a lens onto 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, but like vinyl, film cameras and the Irish language, letter writing is enjoying a renaissance. 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 Coibhe, “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.”
Like most good businesses, Plunkett Press was the solution to a problem: Coibhe 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.” Coibhe 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,” Coibhe recalls. The couple returned to their Co Wicklow home and set up the press in a former potting shed in the backgarden.
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.” According to An Post, only 7% of letters are personal, with the remaining 93% generated by businesses and Government bodies. The volume of post has dropped by an enormous half in the past decade – the reason given by An Post for the 25c rise in the price of a stamp earlier this year.
“Customers come to me saying how glad they are to have found us so they can start writing letters again,” adds Coibhe. 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 Coibhe’s long-time pen pal Ally: “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 large number of Coibhe’s customers are men. “Men like to have good stationery,” she comments. “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 adds. But it’s not only Baby Boomers and Gen Xers enjoying the ritual of handwriting a letter. Many of Coibhe’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, 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.
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. We express real emotions like ‘love you’ and ‘thinking of you’.
“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.
“Some situations deserve more than a text message,” believes Coibhe. “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.” 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’.”
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 – there’s a copy on my bookshelf and probably one on yours or at least someone you know – the touring event features well-known faces reading aloud what are described as “remarkable letters”. They are written by characters as diverse as Kathryn Hepburn and Ghandi, Queen Victoria and Buzz Aldrin – even Marge Simpson features – and they cover every facet of the human experience but expressed through an individual’s private voice. That’s what makes them so intriguing. Through Letters Live, 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,” says Coibhe. 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 – Coibhe 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.”
There’s a strong feeling of completion and accomplishment that comes with writing and posting a letter.
Duff writes on paper from a “beautiful old journal I picked up in Venice a couple of years ago”. She admits she’s very specific about ink 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.
Ally 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 Coibhe 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 postbox, completing the task by pushing it through the mouth. “We visited fourth class and nobody knew how to address an envelope. We were shocked,” admits Ally.
Coibhe says that the children are fascinated by letter writing, even the boys. “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.” Coibhe recalls one school mum explaining that her son had written his letter to an aunt who is a nurse. She’d lost a patient on that particular 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, as initiatives like Letters of Note and Letters Live suggest. 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.
This article was originally published in The Irish Times Magazine, November 2025