Several years ago I appeared on Glenn Beck’s television program to discuss my novel,
The Wednesday Letters.
Much to Beck’s astonishment, I chose to share my cellphone number on
air with his audience. I invited them to call and share their memories
on the importance of personal, handwritten letters in their lives.
I will never forget Beck leaning forward and looking straight into
the camera with that patented, sneaky look in his eyes. “Please call him
at two in the morning.” After the interview ended, we said goodbye and
he promised me my phone would ring.
He was right.
I received thousands of calls and answered as many as I could over
the span of several weeks. Many left voicemail messages and some asked
for a return call. It took a while, but I honored every request.
It was a sweet experience.
I heard the most incredible stories from people whose lives had been
changed by the art of the handwritten letter. I spoke to widows and
widowers who clung to boxes of letters like life preservers to remember
their loved ones.
I chatted with teens that cherished letters from mothers and from
mothers who wept at the memory of a letter from prodigal sons and
daughters.
I got to know a young woman whose best friend was on board Flight 93
on Sept. 11, 2001. A treasure trove of personal letters was the salve
that helped her heal.
On these many calls we discussed writing, publishing, the books
people were reading and what they liked or didn’t about my books and
others in my genre.
Many of those callers became readers, but, more importantly, some of those readers became friends.
At the time, the idea of becoming so accessible was highly
controversial. Church friends called me crazy, neighbors wondered if I’d
lost a bet and even my own family asked what I was thinking.
But to me, the concept was obvious.
If you ask to see someone in the kitchen, servers will usually
accommodate you. You might want to raise a concern or compliment the
chef.
When you get your car washed, you might give a shout-out to the
dedicated employee who polishes that one last pesky spot before opening
your door and sending you on your way.
Perhaps you saw a show at your local high school or community
theater. It would be quite natural to congratulate the cast or director
and tell them what a fine job they’d done.
When visiting a public restroom you might have noticed a sign on the
wall inviting you to report unclean conditions to the management. One
popular chain of convenience stores even invites customers to call a
member of the executive team to report unsanitary conditions at any of
their nationwide locations.
The list never ends. Virtually everywhere consumers spend money
offers some line of communication back to management, distributors or
creators of those particular goods and services.
Why should it be any different with artists?
I once discussed this topic with a loyal reader who also happens to
be a good friend. He was lamenting that another author he enjoys reading
has a policy about not responding personally to email received through
his website. It’s not evident whether messages sent through his online
contact form are even read by him and not an assistant.
It’s a shame that any author or artist of any kind would opt to
practice their craft behind a digital wall that prevents them from
engaging one-on-one with consumers Have we forgotten whom we work for? I
recognize that I owe my entire career to hard-working men and women who
spend their treasure on something I’ve created.
I don’t work for myself; I work for my readers. The notion that
artists are self-employed is a myth. Shouldn’t I be responsive to the
market and offer easy lines of communication? Shouldn’t all artists
welcome opinions on what they enjoy or don’t?
Of course.
So, if you’ve got something to say about one of my books or columns, I
invite you to email me or pick up the phone and call. I can be reached
at jwright@deseretnews.com or 540-328-0111.
I can’t promise I’ll answer every call as life, work and sheer volume
may sometimes prevent it. But if you leave me a phone number and ask
for a return call, you will get one.
Just don’t call me at 2 a.m.
About Jason
Jason Wright is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author.
Jason is a weekly columnist for the Deseret News and Northern
Virginia Daily and articles by Jason have appeared in over 50 newspapers
and magazines across the United States including The Washington Times,
The Chicago Tribune, and Forbes. He is the author of The James Miracle
(2004); Christmas Jars (2005); The Wednesday Letters (2007); Recovering
Charles (2008), Christmas Jars Reunion (2009); Penny’s Christmas Jar
Miracle (2009); The Cross Gardener (2010); The Seventeen Second Miracle
(2010); The Wedding Letters (2011); and, The 13th Day of Christmas
(2012).
Jason is also a popular speaker who speaks on faith, the Christmas
Jars movement, the Joy of Service, the lost art of letter writing and
many other topics. He has been seen on CNN, FoxNews, C-SPAN, and on
local television affiliates around the country.
Jason is from Charlottesville, Virginia, but has also lived in
Germany, Illinois, Brazil, Oregon and Utah. In 2007, while researching
Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley for his novel The Wednesday Letters, Jason
fell so in love with the area that he moved his family westward from
northern Virginia to the Valley.
Jason is married to Kodi Erekson Wright. They have two girls and two boys.
