Diane Barnes's Reviews > The Correspondent

6/18/25 -UPDATE
I attended her bookstore event in Charleston last night. She is warm and witty and charming, was very open about her 20 year writing career with so many rejected novels, then finally the success of this one when she least expected it. Funny, self-deprecating behavior wins me over every time. This has reached best seller lists all over the country, though not NYT yet, but it's being published in 20 countries, with more to come.

I'll just go ahead and say right now that this is my favorite book of the year, no matter that it's only the 18th of May. I've got lots of literary male crushes, but Sybil van Antwerp is my first choice for literary best friend. She's 72 when we begin this epistilary novel, crotchety and outspoken, intelligent and well read, independent and set in her ways. She lives alone and has just found out she will be losing her sight gradually over the next few years.

She has always been an inveterate letter writer, feeling that she can get her thoughts down on paper better than orally, so we are treated to her handwritten letters to friends and family, and to anyone else who she feels deserves a piece of her mind, in good ways and bad. She especially loves to write to authors, has an ongoing exchange with Joan Didion about grief, Diana Gabaldon on the amount of sex in her books, and her letter to Larry McMurtry after her 3rd reading of Lonesome Dove had me in tears. We also get emails to and from a few people and businesses. A lot of people write her back and we are treated to their replies as well.

Through these letters and replies, we get the story of Sybil's life. She's made a few horrendous and life altering mistakes in her time, for which she feels horrible guilt. She makes amends where she can, but that's not always possible. In short, she lives just as we all do, trying the best she knows how.

That's why I love Sybil, she tries. Not always successfully, but always whole-heartedly. She helps when she can, reaches out, isn't afraid to admit fault or assign it. I finished this book wishing I were one of her correspondents, because letter writing is a dying art and when it's done right, is a special thing. Just think of how you feel when you get a simple thank you note instead of a text or email. Or a postcard from a friend who bothered to write, find a stamp and take it out to the mailbox. It always gives me a little jolt of joy, but doesn't happen often. In fact, I plan to write this author myself, a hand-written note to say how much I enjoyed this book. Maybe, just maybe, she'll write me back.