Should you write a 'love letter' to sellers to win a bidding war for a house?

For the past few years, Shar and Jack Hauer had been talking about downsizing out of the Minneapolis two-story where they'd raised their family.

In January, their ideal unit at a senior living community became available. They snapped it up and began getting the home they'd lived in for 51 years ready to show. By April, when the "For Sale" sign went up, the market was white hot.

Showings quickly led to offers, including one that came with what the real estate industry calls a love letter, written by a couple who live nearby.

"We'd never heard of such a thing, but it was a perfect note," said Shar. "They said they'd walked by the house and admired it. Now they need a larger home for their growing family and they could picture it all in our house," she said. "I'm the kind of person who falls for something like this."

As the housing inventory has tightened and prospective buyers scramble to write a winning offer, some turn to the written word — and a vow to love, honor and cherish the property — as a way to flatter the owners, humanize themselves and stand out from the pack in a bidding war.

"Most of my clients do it. It works occasionally," said Steven Hong, an Edina-based real estate agent who offers letter-writing pointers and a successful sample on his website.

But some real estate professionals frown on the practice, warning that while their intent may be sincere, personalized letters — and accompanying photographs — have the potential to pose problems.

State and federal fair housing laws prohibit discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, sex and family status. A letter that reveals specific information about the buyer's background could unblind the seller to who will be moving into their home and neighborhood and influence their choice.

"Minnesota has one of the worst racial gaps in homeownership and in many cases, these letters won't do anything to change that. People need to be educated to check their own biases," said Jackie Berry, a real estate agent and former educator who co-teaches a racism and real estate seminar offered for continuing education credits to Minnesota real estate professionals.

"There are some people who don't want the neighborhood to change even when they're selling and leaving. They may be inclined to favor someone like them," she said. "That's how the system has worked and that's part of how we got where we are today."

Lia Gore found the experience of receiving love letters about her girlhood home to be "soul crushing."

The Denver pediatrician and medical school professor was charged with selling the St. Paul house after her parents passed away. Four offers that she reviewed arrived with letters.

"They were all warm and engaging and delightful and gracious, about how they would be grateful to be the next occupants," she said. "It made me sad to know that three families would be disappointed. I didn't expect that emotional response."

Love letters are not a new phenomenon, but the unprecedented land grab this year means the trend has flipped.

"Back during the recession, we had sellers write letters," recalled real estate agent Leah Drury. "We put the letter in a frame so buyers could read it when they came through a house, telling about all the improvements they'd made and how much the owners loved the property, to give a good feeling."

Drury recently sold a house in Minneapolis that had 30 offers, with the winning one coming in at $90,000 over the list price. Those sellers read the letter submitted by the buyer only after they made their decision, telling Drury that after scanning a few, it had become too tricky to keep all the stories straight.

That hypercompetitive scenario explains why Christina Perfetti is so frustrated in her quest for homeownership.

The executive director of a nonprofit based in northeast Minneapolis, Perfetti, 30, began "earnestly" pursuing a starter home last summer. Since then she and her partner, Alex Hanson, have walked through 34 homes in the neighborhood where she works and rents, and have put offers on nine of them, all but one over asking price. They have yet to land a deal.

"I'm prequalified, I'm strategic and methodical and tenacious," she said. "I'm utilizing all my savings and my status as a first-time home buyer, but I don't have the means or the family money to pay cash. What I can offer is modest."

Several friends who are also home hunting suggested that she add a letter to "give the seller the whole picture" of her offer.

"It's like a cover letter, to set yourself apart and show why you are worthy," Perfetti said. "We say, 'Pick us, we're committed to the area and promise to be a good steward of your property.' "

So far, the effort hasn't paid off, even when the seller was a friendly acquaintance or when she tailored her missive.

"There was a longhaired black cat at a showing at one house and we have a longhaired black cat, so we put a picture with the letter. Didn't work," she said. "Maybe they wanted a family with a baby, not a cat."

While the Minneapolis Area Realtors does not have any policy on love letters, the National Association of Realtors discourages them because of their potential for violating fair housing laws. It also advises members against helping clients draft such a letter and tells them not to deliver or even read what a client writes.

But many buyers are primed to make their case. To head off any complications, buyers who submit letters should keep the focus strictly on the property itself, said Teresa Boardman.

A real estate agent and broker, she has cautioned against love letters on her "St. Paul Real Estate Blog."

"The buyer can say, 'I love the way the light comes in' or 'I'm excited to take over the garden.' If they want to bond over the peonies, no problem. But it is a problem if they say they belong to the church down the street or, heaven forbid, attach their Christmas card picture," she said.

Boardman advises sellers to keep the transaction free of any emotional sway by stating upfront that they will not accept, consider or even read love letters.

"If they insist, I suggest they consult a lawyer. I remind them this is a business transaction, one of the largest of their life," she said. "I'm not aware of anyone who has brought suit over a love letter, but whether you get caught or sued or not, anything that could lead to housing discrimination is wrong."

Berry would like to see the industry take steps to make offers consistently neutral.

"We are required to put our client's name on the purchase agreement and sometimes that lets a seller make an educated guess on the buyer's background, if it's Abdul Ibrahim or John Peterson, or if it's two men or two women," she said. "It's a way for bias to creep in. I'd like to change that."

As for the Hauers, they were rereading the sentiments in the love letter when their real estate agent presented them with another offer. It arrived with no note, but was considerably higher than what the letter writers were ready to pay.

"I don't want to sound greedy, but as a family, we decided that was the way to go," Shar said. "I felt a bit guilty, but really, we don't need to know anything about the buyer. We were happy how everything went. Words are nice, but money is also nice."

Kevyn Burger is a Minneapolis-based freelance broadcaster and writer.