I kept trying to write something here about how much the following means to me, but nothing was good enough for it.

[readermail]
Dear Pam,

My name is S–, I am 17 years old, and I just finished reading your book “Notes to Boys.” I came across your book in Barnes and Noble a couple of days ago, and picked it up as a joke to show my friend, who is just as boy crazy as I am. I ended up reading the Introduction, and knew I had to buy it. I think we’re pretty similar, although I’m not sure if I’m more like you, or little you. In all honesty, I think I lean more towards the LP side, but I wouldn’t really call that a bad thing. I am extremely sentimental, I love boys (even though they don’t love me), I want a movie-like romance more than I want a lot of things, music is one of the most important things in my world, and all I’m ever doing when I’m not reading is writing. Although, as opposed to LP, I find myself writing more angry “why don’t you love me??????” poems than longing ones. Anyway, after finishing your book I just wanted to say a couple of things. First, it’s really not as bad as you think (unless it is, and I don’t realize because I’m still a teenager, and if that is the case then I’m sorry, but I’m sure I’m in the same boat, it’s okay). More importantly, though, thank you for putting yourself out there like that, and I don’t just mean through sharing your love letters, but I mean through sharing your life experiences. I didn’t know what to expect from a comedy book, but things got really real at some points, and I loved it. I learned a lot from you, and I think you’re truly amazing. You’ve even inspired me. In the book you talked about a woman who came up to you and told you that you inspired her to get rid of all of her old journals. You had the opposite affect on me. I love my journals, and my writing, and how strongly I feel, and how deeply I love. After reading your book, I’m inspired in the sense that I refuse to ever be sorry for how I feel, or have felt. I think it’s far better to be embarrassed than regretful. I would much rather speak my mind and not be reciprocated than not say a word and never know what could have been. I know that all sounds really cheesy and has been said a million times, with 500,000 having been me, but I really mean it. I could get more in depth, but that would make this messy and hard to follow, and this message is already pretty long. Let’s just leave it at: thank you, Pam, you helped me realize something very important.

Thanks for reading (and for writing),
S.

P.S. Admittedly, I’m pretty upset that I have the invention of the Internet, at least from a writing stand point. I mean, I have a bunch of journals in addition to a blog, but I want boxes of torn out notebook pages to keep forever and laugh at when I’m older. I may just have to put in the effort of writing everything I’ve typed. Like I said, I’m really sentimental like that.

P.P.S. I tried really hard to find a P.O. Box for you so that I could write out a letter to you to send, but e-mail works too.

P.P.P.S. I realized while reading your book that P.S. stands for postscript. I was amazed.
[/readermail]

(She and I have been emailing since I received this letter, and she continues to be way cooler than I ever was at her age.)