Thank you notes: Should you send an email or write a note?

A recent Infographic on thank you notes caught my attention:

It's a lovely infographic, but I disagree with the process of decision making that it outlines. 

Instead, I would like to propose my own rules about when you can write an email and when you must send a physical thank you note.

When determining whether an email or an actual thank you note is required, ask yourself the following questions:

1. Is the recipient the kind of inane and pedantic person who would be offended by an email in lieu of a handwritten thank you note?

If NO, send an email. Not only is it more efficient, but it allows you to say more in less time.
If YES, answer the following:

2. Is the recipient someone whose opinions you care about?

If NO, send an email.
If YES, consider sending an email. If you're still uncertain, answer the following question.

3. Is the recipient the kind of small-minded, vacuous person who might underhandedly complain about your failure to send an actual thank you note to people who you know and respect?

If NO, send the email.
If YES, grudgingly send the thank you note.

When these rules are unavailable to you, you can always rely on this one question to arrive at an equitable solution:

Is the recipient a backwards-thinking, arcane traditionalist capable of underhanded, passive-aggressive, prickish behavior with far too much time on their hands?

If NO, send an email.
If YES, send a thank you note. Or better yet, eradicate this person from your life entirely if possible.

I sent an email in lieu of a thank you note about 90% of the time. I am capable to write far more meaningful and memorable things in an email than I can in a thank you note, and I usually do. As untraditional and impersonal an email may seem to some, if done right, it can be far more meaningful and impactful than a small piece of card stock with 3-5 scribbled sentences.

When I send a physical thank you note, it's almost always in situations that still demand a physical thank you note (in response to gifts, for example, though even then, I will send an email to close friends) or when the recipient is likely to be offended by the email and his or her response to the email will be more troublesome to me than the actual writing of the thank you note.  

It should also be noted that if you are a person who thinks that a thank you note sent via email is never acceptable, you should know that you are a dinosaur. You are slowly but surely becoming extinct. You may enjoy your thank you note perch high above the masses, but please know that the world is moving on without you. 

Most of us understand that it's the thought that counts. It's a lesson we were taught as children, and it remains true today. 

 The thought - contrary to arcane and dwindling belief - does not require ink, envelope, and postage to count. 

Today I give thanks for something intangible and improbable and incredibly powerful

On this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for possibility.

Perhaps I will always be a mid-list author who publishes a novel every year or two.
A storyteller and speaker who takes the stage now and again to entertain audiences.
A screenwriter and playwright who is never paid very much for his craft. 
A very small business owner. 

And if that is the case, I will be a happy man.

I am doing what I love.

I have often said that I would like to someday write for a living and teach for pleasure, and while I am certainly not ready or able to give up my teaching salary, I am closer to this dream than I ever thought imaginable.

But with every book and every story and every screenplay and every musical comes the possibility for greater success. A larger readership. A broader fan base. An opportunity for more prolific career. The dream of a best seller.

In short, possibility.

I was standing in the copy room at my school on a Friday about ten years ago, complaining about the wedding that I had to minister and DJ the next day. A group of friends and colleagues were standing alongside me, listening to me complain.

Later on that day, one of my wiser and kinder colleagues took me aside and said this to me (paraphrased as best as I can recall):

There’s nothing wrong with you complaining about the wedding you have to work this weekend, but please don’t forget how lucky you are, too. Most of the people in this school and everywhere else receive a paycheck every week and that’s it. They have no other way to earn money. They will get their tiny raises every year, but that’s it. Probably forever. Unless they want to go to work on the weekend as a waitress or a cashier or maybe pick up a tutoring job, most people are stuck with the same salary for the rest of their lives.

You own a DJ company, and I know it’s hard work, but I also know how much a wedding DJ can make in one day. It’s a lot of money for a single day of work, and you spend that day with your best friend. It can’t be that bad, or you wouldn’t be doing it. It takes most people months to save that kind of money. And you write books. I don’t know how much you make off them, but it’s probably a lot in the eyes of the people working here. And you write musicals with Andy, and you write for magazines and the newspaper. And your books might be made into movies someday. You have a lot going on.

Just don’t forget how lucky you are to have these other ways to earn money for your family. And you’re doing what you love. Not everyone is so lucky, so just be careful about who you’re complaining to. Some people might wish that they were doing even some of the things you do.

That conversation has remained in my heart and mind, and I often think about it on days like today.

It is unlikely that I will be wealthy someday, but thanks to all of my creative and business pursuits, the possibility exists. As improbable as it may be, my life is filled with many unlikely ways of making my fortune. Retire young. Travel the world. Give my family everything they want. All while doing the things I love. 

Writing. Speaking. Entertaining. Teaching. 

It is unlikely that any of these pursuits will make me a fortune, and that's okay. I love my job and my students, and I feel incredibly lucky about the life I lead.

But I feel blessed with the ability to genuinely hope for so much more when so many cannot.

My colleague and friend was right. Possibility is a great thing. I am thankful for a life filled with it on this day.

If you don't have possibility in your life, why not start today? I'm constantly advising my friends to find something they love and try to find a way to earn money doing it.

Don't quit your day job, but invest just five hours a week pursuing your dream. If you're lucky, you may find yourself with a new and more exciting career someday, or maybe just an additional income stream doing something you love. 

18 reasons for me to be thankful on Thanksgiving 2014

1. My children, who are my greatest blessing in life. I find joy in everything that they do. Many people warned me about how difficult parenting would be. They were wrong.

2. My wife, the ideal mother and best wife. I married the pretty girl and the smart girl, and I still can’t quite believe it.

3. In these not-so-easy economic times, I am thankful to still find myself with the means of providing for my family.

I’m in my sixteenth year of teaching and love it today as much as I did when I began so long ago.

My DJ company remains successful after 19 years in business.

My writing career continues to prosper. My fourth novel will publish in November of 2015. My fifth is nearly complete, and I’ve also completed a memoir about a season of golf and an essay collection based upon my Moth stories. I also have a on-the-side novel that I am pecking away at that I like a lot, and a couple other writing projects, including a screenplay and two musicals.

I’m also fortunate enough to be paid for tutoring gigs, speaking gigs. and a variety of other side jobs. Finding work is not been a problem for me, and I know how fortunate I am for this.

4. I am thankful for The Moth, the storytelling organization that allows me to take a stage and tell stories. Since I began telling stories in 2011, I’ve competed in 26 StorySLAMs, 8 GrandSLAMs and two Mainstage shows. My stories have appeared on The Moth’s Radio Hour and their weekly podcast, and I’ve been fortunate enough to win 15 StorySLAM competitions so far.

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This success has opened doors to storytelling opportunities with organizations like The Story Collider, Literary Death Match, The Liar Show, TED, The Mouth and more. The Moth made me a storyteller.

5. I’m grateful to the supportive and enthusiastic audiences who have made Speak Up possible. I first proposed Speak Up about four years ago in an effort to avoid trying my hand at The Moth, and when we finally launched it in 2013, I thought that we might get 30-40 people per show.

We have since sold out every show and now have partnerships with outside venues and schools to bring Speak Up to them. None of this would be possible if not for our audience, who fills our theater and welcomes our storytellers with rapt attention and enormous support.

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6. I am thankful for my friends, a collection of honest, direct, intelligent, successful people who miraculously accept me for who I am and stand by me in times of trouble. Many are like family to me.

7. I am thankful for the Patriots, who are playing well and giving me reason to cheer on Sundays.

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8. I am thankful for my students, both past and present, for making every day an adventure. It has been such an honor to get to know them like I do.

9. I am thankful for canned, jellied cranberry sauce. We should eat much more of this throughout the year.

10. I am thankful for Bluetooth headphones and the limitless supply of podcasts and music that pour forth from them on a daily basis.

11. I am thankful for pickup basketball and the occasional collisions in flag football. I’d be thankful for tackle football if I could find someone to play with me.

12. I am thankful for Kaleigh, a dog who can admittedly annoy us to no end but is the only other living being willing to climb out of bed at 4:00 AM with me and head downstairs to work. Almost every sentence that I compose is written with Kaleigh underfoot.

13. I’m thankful for Owen, our twenty pound bulimic house cat who wakes us in the middle of the night and bites us from time to time but accepts all of our children’s poking and prodding and full-body hugs with patience and love.

14. I’m thankful for our many babysitters, and especially Allison, who take such amazing care of our children when we are gallivanting about.

15. I’m thankful for my literary agent, my film agent, my editor, the booksellers of the world and all the other bookish and entertainment professionals who make my sentences sound gooder and help my stories find their way into readers’ hands.

16. I’m thankful for golf. Oh so thankful for golf.

17. I’m thankful for my family. A father who I am finally beginning to know. A brother who is back in my life after many years apart. A sister who should be writing more. Aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins who my children are getting to know. And my wife’s family, who have taken me in and made me feel like a part of their family.

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18. I am grateful for possibility.

Perhaps I will always be a slightly-less-than-midlist author who publishes a novel every year or two, and if that is the case, I will be a happy man.

I am doing what I love.

I have often said that I would like to someday write for a living and teach for pleasure, and while I am certainly not ready or able to give up my teaching salary, I am closer to this dream than I ever thought imaginable.

Really, really far away, too, but still closer than I ever thought possible.

But with every book comes the possibility for greater success. A larger readership. An opportunity for more prolific career. The dream of a best seller.

In short, possibility.

In addition, all three of my books have been optioned for film or television.  This does not mean that anything will ever happen with any of them, but once again, it represents possibility.

Then there is a memoir, a book of essays, a rock opera, a tween musical, a screenplay, my speaking and storytelling career, and more.

My life is filled with many unlikely ways to make my fortune. Retire young. Travel the world. Give my family everything they want.

None of this will probably never happen, and that is okay. I love my job and my students, and I feel incredibly lucky about the life I lead.

But I feel blessed with the ability to genuinely hope for so much more when so many cannot.