The Simple Magic of Email

When a wonder becomes pervasive, there is a danger we become dull to its innate splendour. You can ignore any miracle if it is routine. Today I was reminded of the simple magic of email and Internet by unexpected treasure in my inbox.

On Friday, hobbling back to the canal, my mind still blazing with literary fire, I thought of the forces which shaped my relationship with words. I was wishing for chances to thank the links in the narrative chain that helped make me a writer. One important name summoned was Bee, my A-level English teacher. Her belief in me and the conversations I enjoyed with her in and out of her class are something I still treasure nearly 20 years later.

This afternoon I received an email from her. She had heard me doing a back on the farm radio interview on Radio 4, recognized my name and my ‘distinctive voice’ (probably a polite way of describing my Essex barrow boy consonant crunching) and looked me up. Bee’s words were wonderfully kind, taking delight that I had ‘not lost that alternative, quirky outlook on the world that took my interest when you were in my class’ and pleasure in seeing that I have ‘become such a fluent writer because I can remember how promising I thought you were and how frustrated you must have felt at times with study assignments.’

The power the Internet and email delivers to its users to connect is still breathtaking to me. Yet even more wonderful is being so gently remembered by someone I hold in high esteem. Thank you Bee. Thank you in the now for making my day and thank you in the then for being one of those forces that made me a writer.