The beloved Northwest author Tom Robbins once wrote:
Solitude can be quite romantic, and if one spends too much time in the company of others, one finds oneself having only secondhand thoughts.
It is a notion that could have appeared in one of his playful and philosophical novels, or even in his memoir "Tibetan Peach Pie." Instead, he wrote those words in a letter. Then he signed it, stamped the envelope with an inky imprint of Pan, the half-goat, half-man, God of the wild, and mailed it to my apartment: “For Katy Sewall in Seattle.”
This letter arrived in 2010, and it was not the first. Tom Robbins and I wrote to each other for over a decade, our letters zipping up and down the I-5 corridor from Seattle to La Conner and back again.
In that same 2010 letter, Robbins also responded to the news of my recent knee injury:
As distressed as I was to learn of the problem with your knee, I was even more alarmed when I heard (or thought I heard) that Seattle’s new mayor wanted to replace the 'Sewall.' Well, it turned out it was merely a 'seawall' that was displeasing his honor… that was a relief…
Tom Robbins and I were friends, and perhaps even more unusual in these technological days, our friendship grew from being pen pals.
That’s all I got this morning, Katy. Keep up the good work, and remember the words of ol’ Bhagwan Rajneesh, ‘Life is the beautiful joke that is always happening.’
Our pen pal friendship began in 2004. Back then, he’d already published eight books and I was a skateboard-riding, public radio intern, sent to his home (which he dubbed “Villa de Jungle Girl”) at the behest of NPR national. My only assignment that day was to be polite and hold a microphone close to Tom’s mouth during a phone interview.
Still, Tom welcomed me into his life with such warmth and humor, the day still stands out as remarkable. Maybe he could sense that I admired his mind-tingling writing, or maybe he was just being himself: forever gracious, curious, funny, and kind.
He was also a little nervous about the interview. By then, he’d gotten shy about doing them at all. As he later put it to me:
I’ve just been misquoted. Or had my comments paraphrased, which is even worse. And I misquote myself enough, I don’t need any help from outsiders.
We were both happier once the official business was over. After the interview, we lingered at the kitchen table, sharing stories about our lives. We discovered a mutual love of Old Time Radio and he signed my skateboard: “For Katy — Don’t try to stop her!”
If our relationship had ended there, I would have thought fondly of Tom Robbins for the rest of my life. But thankfully, that was only the beginning.
Sometimes all it takes to forge a friendship is a deliberate and simple act. I wrote him a letter. And Tom wrote one back:
Thanks for the expertise and unassuming verve with which you held the microphone in my kitchen. I could tell from your quiet aplomb that you have a decidedly bright future.
And here’s the most wonderful thing: I wasn’t the only person he wrote letters to.
After Tom died, I spent an afternoon talking with Alexa Robbins, his wife of 36 years.
I asked, “How prolific was his letter writing?”
“It was daily,” she answered. “There are thousands upon thousands of letters around the world that people have. His readers… They weren’t just these anonymous people who bought the books. He felt that they were friends. They would come to the door; he would invite them in.”
As Alexa Robbins put it: “He didn’t try to be the important one. It was always — you are the important one.”
Dear Katy: So pleased to hear from you…
Thanks again for your generosity, for being you, for being.
And please remember to Feel Ridiculously Fine!
Late novelist Tom Robbins (left), his wife Alexa Robbins (center), and radio host Katy Sewall (right) hang out backstage at Seattle's Town Hall on Wednesday, May 18, 2016.
Courtesy of Erin Hennessey
Ours was a friendship built with letters, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t also spend time together in person, which we loved. But writing a letter is, in its own unique way, a deliberate choice to be with another person. To slow down. To write. It was a choice we regularly made. We each came to our desks, miles apart with postage stamps at the ready, and took the time to think of each other.
What could be more special?
Right from the start, I’ve been blessed — or cursed — with a double shot of imagination and curiosity, and against all odds, I’ve managed to hold onto those qualities, actually without even trying.
I advise all aspiring writers to cultivate a taste for solitude…
Oh, and by the way, should I ever happen to fall into a funk, I go to the movies. It’s just as effective as a psychiatrist, and far less expensive.
Katy Sewall is a back-up announcer/host for KUOW and a feature reporter. She's a PRINDI award-winning producer who trained with Radiolab and toured with A Prairie Home Companion.
