Thursday, June 17: Femme Fatale
TAKING PEN IN HAND
by Deborah Elliott-Upton
There’s something special about actually putting pen to paper. It’s as different from composing a story on a computer as it is to receive a hand-written letter instead of an e-mail. The content may be the same, but the delivery is so impersonal.
Pressed for time, digital responses are necessary in most instances, but not all. Even emoticons can’t convey as much in their effort as the words they represent spelled out. And of course, there are the dolts who choose to use texting as a way to break up so as not to have to suffer any fallout in person.
Technology changed the world into running at a faster and faster pace—which is mostly good. I admit e-mail submissions of a short story are more convenient. It saves trees—although paper is a wonderful thing in that it’s recyclable, biodegradable, and replenishable.
E-mails are lost floating around somewhere in cyberspace where they are supposedly available if only we know how to find them. A love letter e-mail somehow isn’t quite the same as one kept wrapped in a ribbon in a secret place. Yes, I realize paper yellows and grows brittle, but there’s something about touching the stationery your lover touched while writing the matter of his heart.
Wait, you say. Isn’t this blog about writing stories?
Yes, it is, but we’ll agree as a group, we love fiction and mysteries in particular. That’s why we’re here.
I write on a computer most of the time, only jotting down ideas in my notebook when I’m out and about living the rest of my life. I filter through these notes and type them into a folder on my computer. Computers are wonderful filing cabinets that take up no extra space in the office or require dusting. Eliminating paper cuts is one great point in favor of using a computer filing system.
Still, every once in a while, I feel a need—almost an obsession—to write a story the old-fashioned way by putting pen to paper. The feel of the pen in my hand is more conducive to some characters joining in the story. I’m not sure if it’s the actual curving of the letters of script or just the pressure of the pen point against the page, but writing “by hand” seems to deliver a different type of story than when I use the computer for the first draft. I’ll eventually transfer the story to the computer, but when I begin as writers have for centuries, I seem to connect with the Muse on a more personal level.
Many writers I know swear they compose à la Margaret Mitchell, author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning Gone With the Wind, in handwriting on yellow legal-sized notepads.
Others write strictly on a computer, and a lone soul going the Ian Fleming route hammers out his novels on a manual he found in a yard sale. He then pays college students to type his masterpieces into MS Word on a computer he keeps strictly for Internet connections.
Who writes better? That’s a matter of preference. I think perhaps it isn’t the why or even the how we write our stories as much that we do.
I’m off to spend a quiet morning with nothing but a fabulous fountain pen I’ve had since I was a teenager and wrote my first short story, an extremely angst-ridden story of young love. The pen fits nicely in my hand and the stories written with it are some of my favorites, probably because they are the most personal.
Hmmph! Those love letters better not be from Nick Carter! I’ll have a few words with him about that!
Deborah, for a long time, I wrote and rewrote on yellow-lined pads with arrows and strike-outs, then transcribed the results to my computer. I know exactly when I switched– when a topical storm left insufficient light to write by but I had three rechargable laptop batteries. I kind of miss the old style.
Deborah, I write everything in Word and I make notes in a simple database I wrote for my computer. I used to write on a typewriter, and before that in school exercise books. Everything now for me is computer inputted, but I sure do miss simple paper and pen — and fountain pens are indeed the best!
Great topic. There was an article in the NY Times last week (I think) about a writer who was kicked out of a writing space in NY (where people can rent a cubicle to work in peace). He was the last typewriter user and the others resented the noise.
Isaac Asimov was a typer (as opposed to a typist) and he said that once he was on a cruise without a typewriter and got a story idea. So he wrote by hand. “And you know that noise writing makes?” he said in amazement. “It’s not the writing! It’s the typewriter!”
I used to love the look, and challenge, of a blank white page. Now even my notes are kept in my phone! The world has definitely changed!! LOL!!
Prior to my life-changing discovery of the word processor, I used to write everything in longhand first, make all my edits, and then type the final version out. You waste a lot less paper that way than typing your rough and subsequent drafts.
My guess is that this is the same method used by most creative wordsmiths who did their authoring in that short span between the inventions of the typewriter and the word processor. I know it’s what Hemingway and Chandler did.
My choice of weapon, though, certainly wasn’t a fountain pen. Fountain pens are for signing checks and writing thank you notes. No, my standard implement was a cheap Bic ballpoint, and for edits, a standard #2 pencil. I still usually use a pencil for edits on hard copies, although I also have a couple red pens for the purpose.
I have a bunch of stuff on old discs that won’t run on my new(er)computer! Need to call a tech! And i like writing in notebooks as well! Thanks
Don’t delay, Jeff. Magnetic media decays.
Thanks, Leigh!
I like it both ways.
LOL
Seriously, I love flash (memory) sticks and I love journals that generally have the persona of what’s inside….i.e. not plain.
Great article.
When stuck I still turn to pen and paper. Not as intimidating as the blinking cursor.
You just reminded me of a saying from a woman writer many years ago. I’d remember her name if I heard it but can’t bring it to mind. She was a black woman who died young, and knew she was dying, but met her death bravely and philosophically. The line I remember is: