20081111-fountain-penThrough a series of circumstances not worth relating, I currently find myself without a computer at home.  It particularly hurts for my  work as a teacher, as I often do mounds of paperwork and plan many lessons whilst ensconced in bed, and I find myself staying in school a lot later than I want.  What it also means, however, is that my recent contributions to AAR have been handwritten.

I wasn’t always so reliant on computers.  I’ve always written a neat hand and still do, and, while my school notes weren’t copperplate, they were a right sight clearer than most.  Being a visual person, when I went to university I found brainstorming by hand most productive, after which I would write the first draft on a computer.  But gradually I eliminated the first step, brainstorming as I wrote my first draft, and the keyboard, rather than the pen, became an extension of my thoughts.

It’s a different process, I find.  Not only are you allowed the luxury of editing almost as you write – it permits you to transmit your thoughts almost directly from human brain to electronic brain.  The stream of consciousness never was as true as in the age of computers, and while I wouldn’t say it promoted my logical sloppiness, it certainly discouraged immediate clarity.

But the pen is a whole other world.  If I start messy, god only knows what the second draft will look like, and I’m loathe to spend too much time and paper on re-copying.  This means I’ve learnt to get it right the first time ‘round, and which (if honesty permits) might have resulted in better marks in university if earlier encouraged.  Now my thoughts are deliberately decelerated, and I’ve removed the extra editing step by correcting before I set pen to paper.  The cohesion not only does wonders for the piece of writing – I find myself also having peace of mind.

I have my German friend to thank for introducing and gifting to me the joy of a fountain pen, and seeing the minute but concrete evidence of ink on paper increases my pleasure in a task that is already a joy.  Writing for AAR in this way has become therapy, relaxation, and penmanship practice all in one.  And damned if I don’t feel more like a proper writer, too.  If I get a laptop again, I might just keep my pen in hand anyway.

– Jean AAR