True Love Isn’t Processed

Dan Neil’s column on the demise of handwritten communication is clever, and the thought of a word-processed love letter curdles the soul (“Scribbling Rivalry,” 800 Words, July 9). One can only equate processed words with processed cheese: They look like the real thing, but both are more redolent of plastic than anything resembling real flavor or emotional engagement.

Carol Gwenn

Beverly Hills