Hello Readers!

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the evolution of the historical romance genre, but this month’s newsletter isn’t about that. It’s about the evolution of the newsletter (in my personal experience!).

I’m a preacher’s kid, and one of my standout memories of childhood is working on the church newsletter. I swear putting out a newsletter was one of my dad’s favorite tasks. He filled it with goings-on at the church, member news, anecdotes, and I don’t know what else. It wasn’t regularly scheduled, but probably went out roughly once a month. This was way before home computers, the internet, or copy machines. So how was it done?

First, the pages (2 or 3) were typed on mimeograph paper.

That long blue sheet was very thin. Typing on it made holes in the paper turning it into a stencil. Errors had to be painted over with a correction fluid (smelled like nail polish remover), given time to dry, then typed over. There were also pre-made simple images/cartoons to buy with the paper. Dad would use a razor blade to cut out a rectangular cartoon, then cut out a spot in the mimeograph paper (those little white lines helped position the inserts) and glue in the image. (I have no memory of how it was glued. Maybe that same correction fluid?)

Once the stencil was prepared, he took it to the mimeograph machine.

Goopy ink was painted over the drum. (Was there an ink reservoir, too? I don’t know. Dad handled the real messy stuff.) The stencil was laid over the drum and clipped into place. Care had to be taken not to have any wrinkles in the stencil. He loaded paper onto the shelf on the side and turned the crank to feed the paper through. I’m pretty sure there was a button to push so that it would crank automatically once started, and there must have been a counter in there somewhere because we weren’t manually counting.

Once the pages were printed, it was all hands on deck. Dad, Mom, we four kids, and any friends who may have been hanging around would work in an assembly line. Sometimes, we would fold the newsletter in thirds and stuff envelopes (pre-prepared). Other times, we’d fold the pages in half, staple the end, and forego the envelopes.

Either way, envelopes or not, the letters had to be addressed and stamped. We had inkpads and rubber stamps, one with the church’s return address and one with a bulk-prepaid postage imprint. Stamping was a lot more fun than folding, so you wanted to get that spot in the assembly line.

But the coolest job of all was getting to use the addressograph. All church members, current and past, as well as anyone else who expressed interest, would have their own metal card, like this.

These were placed in a stack in the back card holder of the addressograph machine.

An inked ribbon stretched just under the holes in that metal plate on the top. After laying an envelope (or folded-in-half and stapled pages) in place over the ribbon, you’d have to apply a bit of force to slam down that handle. This would feed a card under the ribbon. The address would be imprinted onto the envelope. When the handle went back up, the card would be moved forward to drop into that shelf in front, and the next card would automatically be pulled under the ribbon. Why are these simple machines so much fun when you’re a kid?

Envelope-stuffing was the worst. That may be why we eventually shifted to mostly doing without them, unless there were inserts that needed sending. But there may have been other considerations for the switch, like cost.

The second worst job was sorting. Because these were bulk-mailed, we had to sort them into piles by zip code. Most were local, but even that included a few different zip codes, and there were some out-of-staters. Once sorted, we put rubber bands around the stacks, and Dad took them off to the post-office. The rest was U.S. Post Office magic.

It was time-consuming, and I remember a lot of moaning and groaning when it was newsletter day. (Second only to the groaning of Saturday night bulletin-folding time.) But looking back, it was pretty fun, especially when friends were around. (I’m looking at you, Marianne!) And now, I view the experience with nostalgia. Computers and copy machines did away with the old mimeograph machine. And email replaced the much more costly mailing of paper newsletters. What I miss is not the physical newsletter. It’s the communal aspect of newsletter prep.

If you enjoy newsletters, here are a few to check out.

The first is an interesting take on using history in a different sort of creative storytelling—tabletop role-playing games. Have a look at this website and if you’re interested in more, hit the subscribe button.

The next three are authors in my critique group. You can get the flavor of their writing from the websites and subscribe to their newsletters there. They each approach newsletter writing differently, so take your pick or try them all!

Nancy J Fagan — Writes strong female characters, often in medical settings.

Kimberly Nixon — Writes family stories featuring strong, determined, and sometimes wild characters.

Linda Paul — Writes upmarket women’s fiction, both historical and contemporary.

Until next month!

S.C.C.