Grand Slam

How long since you wrote a letter? Received a letter? A proper one, not some tedious thing that requires action, but a hand-written, heartfelt letter.

The last real letters that popped into my letterbox came after my gorgeous furry girls died and they were letters of condolences and as I read them I could feel the doggy love coming from each person and they were comforting and reassuring. How grateful I was for them.

Instead mail comes, computer-generated and demanding, and it piles up on the hall table because. Because everything.

It’s Big Word of Mouth’s second Grand Slam on Tuesday, July 10. The theme is LETTERS. The storytellers are all Slam winners who will tell their five-minute true story on the theme. Your job, as as storylover and audience, is to vote on the best, the one that resonated with you the most.

Have you got a ‘letter’ story? Maybe you’ll contribute something as an anonymous comment from the floor – in response to this sentence starter…Tell us about THAT letter…

Here’s my response to Tell us about THAT letter..…There is one letter I have written, over and over. Maybe a dozen times. And each time I write it, I hide it for a few days, pull it out again after that hibernation and then destroy it. I have never send it and now, all these years later, I have no need to write it again.

Get your tickets, $12, here  

Come anytime from 5.30pm and have something delish to eat or drink and enjoy the fire in the club bar.



  1. Last year my mum died. She’d kept Australia Posts afloat with her abundance of letters. Thousands in her lifetime to friends and family. And she ensured even after her death that those closest to her, her children, their partners, her grandchildren and a special niece, would still receive a final letter.
    While cleaning out her writing desk a month or so after mum died, I found a pile of envelopes stacked neatly in a back corner. Each one was addressed so carefully in her beautiful handwriting to her loved ones. I delivered them all and eventually opened mine.
    My mother’s love spilled from the pages. She told me all the things she’d already said a hundred times before- that she loved me and appreciated all I’d done for her and that she was not scared of dying as she had complete faith she’d go to somewhere beautiful and be with dad and my grandmother’s – but seeing it all in writing made all those words seem more solid and enduring.
    That letter is the last one I’ll ever receive from mum and I’ll forever hold it near and dear.


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