How to Write a Christmas Letter People Actually Want to Read

Every December, millions of holiday letters go out into the world, and most of them read like a spreadsheet with tinsel on it. We went here. We did this. The children achieved the following things. People skim them, feel vaguely guilty, and put them in the recycling bin by January.

But a good Christmas letter—a really good one—can be the best thing in someone's mailbox. It can feel like a conversation, a small window into a life, a moment of genuine connection in a season that is often more performative than personal. Here is how to write one that lands.

Start With One Moment, Not a Summary

The biggest mistake people make is trying to cover the entire year. You cannot. You will either bore your reader or exhaust yourself. Instead, pick one moment—one afternoon, one conversation, one small disaster—and build the letter around it.

For example: instead of We had a busy year with many travels and milestones, try In March, our car broke down outside a town called Mercy, and we spent four hours in a diner where the waitress knew every customer by name. We ate pie. We talked about things we hadn't talked about in years. It was, strangely, one of the best days of the year.

One moment tells more truth than ten bullet points.

Use specific details. Not the kids are growing up so fast but Leo has decided he is a paleontologist and has begun labeling everything in the house with its scientific name. Not we traveled but we drove to the coast and ate oysters standing up because we forgot chairs. Specificity is what makes a letter feel real.

Write in your actual voice. If you are funny, be funny. If you are sentimental, be sentimental. If you are tired, you can say that too. A holiday letter is not a press release. It is a letter. It is allowed to have a personality.

Rules Worth Breaking

You do not have to include a photo. Or you can include a bad one—the one where everyone is blinking, the one where the dog is mid-sneeze. A perfect photo says less than an honest one.

You do not have to pretend the year was good. If it was hard, you can say so. You do not have to dwell, but you can be honest. This was a heavy year for us. We are still standing. We are grateful for the people who stood with us. That is a letter people will keep.

You do not have to send it to everyone. Send it to the people who will actually read it. The rest can get a card.

You can write it in December and send it in January. Nobody cares. The holiday is not the point. The connection is.

You can end with a question. Invite a reply. A letter that asks something—What was your best moment this year? What are you reading? What are you hoping for in the spring?—turns a monologue into a conversation.

Here is a small template you can steal: Start with a moment. Add one honest sentence about how the year actually felt. Mention two or three people or things you are grateful for. Ask one question. Sign your name.

That is it. That is the whole letter. It will be shorter than you think it should be, and twice as good as the ones you have sent before. Write it by hand if you can. The handwriting is half the gift.