Christmas, with its round of parties, pre-holiday drinks and dinners, is almost upon us. A happy time, for the most part, but there's a spectre lurking in the yuletide shadows – it's called the thank-you letter.
In our house, the painful childhood ritual of writing the thank-you note was worsened by the miserable fact that my mother brooked neither crossings out nor the use of Tippex, so each missive went through at least five incarnations before it was passed for posting – tear stains being apparently quite acceptable by way of decoration.
Unlike mosquito bites or brussels sprouts, the awfulness of writing thank-you letters does not diminish with age. The truth, however ungracious it may sound, is that very few people sit down in front of that blank sheet of paper with any feeling of pleasure, however old they are. My theory is that this ordeal is the point of the thing – to show the gift-giver or erstwhile host that you're so grateful that you've put yourself through the torture of filling a whole side with effusive variations on "thanks a lot, it was really nice".
Being on the receiving end is a rather more gratifying experience. For a start, getting a handwritten letter or card in the post these days is exciting enough (to ensure maximum discomfort on the writer's part, and commensurate satisfaction on the recipient's, thank-you letters should always be handwritten, although crossings out are, I think, allowed these days), and to have your talents in gift buying, or cookery, extravagantly praised in a medium which you can display on the mantelpiece for all to see, is undeniably pleasing.
However, some styles will go down better than others. Avoid, for example, the standard childish opener, "thank you very much for the teddy bear/dinner, it is/was lovely". Your host will be tempted to hear this in the sing-song voice of a resentful eight-year-old, thus destroying any pretensions you have to sincerity.
Go in with something a bit more personal – after all, you've got a few lines to fill, so you may as well do it with gusto. Think over what you really enjoyed about the affair in question, and mention it specifically – your slow-cooked goat in Vimto was delicious, and so original! If you didn't, in truth, enjoy any of it, but want to be kind, try and remember the thing they seemed most anxious about, and praise that.
Unless you know them well, don't mention how funny it was when they passed out on the sofa, or when you found a dog hair in the mousse; they're probably trying hard to bury that particular memory. Keep it relatively short – even the most loquacious sycophant would find it hard to fill two sides of A4 with sincere praise – and try if possible to include a sentence or two of news, preferably related to the event, to make your letter interesting, as well as flattering, to the host.
Of course, if you've been to something more casual, for which a letter might seem rather over-the-top, an email or phone call the next day, or even a text on the way home, is perfectly acceptable (although better, in my opinion, to seem over-enthusiastic than plain rude – no one's ever been offended by a thank you letter. But I don't think you can overestimate the impact that making that extra effort can have – finding a pen that works, remembering their address, borrowing a stamp and tracking down a postbox - as opposed to pressing a button.
It must be acknowledged though, that the thank you letter is pretty rare nowadays. When did you last receive or write one? And if it has been years, how do you show your gratitude?
