Despite the fact that my mother taught me how to type when I was quite young, to this day I still compose fiction stories by hand, preferably with a soft lead pencil or fountain pen. These instruments glide across numerous pages without causing hand cramps. At write ins, I’ve watched fellow writers typing away on their laptops, quickly composing page after page. I’d stare at them—fascinated that they could compose their story that way.
I’ve been typing nearly every day since the 70s, so I’m pretty fast at it. With a computer keyboard, I easily compose emails, articles and essays…I just can’t seem to do that with fiction. Something about the mechanics of hitting keys and hearing the subsequent clicking sounds conflicts with my fiction-writing thought process.
Maybe because I started penning short stories as a child, I need to use those same old tools to compose fiction today. I don’t know, but that’s the way it’s been with me for many decades. I can edit fiction on the computer, whether mine or someone else’s; I just can’t seem to compose fiction that way.
During my creative writing times, I often make solo visits to coffee shops and diners to get away from my little office for awhile. I always carry a bag with a book, writing tablet, eraser, pencils and pens. While I sip coffee and munch on something, I alternately read and write, not bothered by background noise. I’ve created some great short stories this way. The last time I visited the Red Rock Bakery in Moab, I ordered a latte (no flavors) and a parmesan bagel (yum). I found an unused table and started to read, which lasted less than ten minutes when an idea struck me about how my protagonist could climb out of the hole he’d dug. I closed the book, put pen to paper, and wrote a few pages about my story’s hero and his struggle to get out of trouble.
Since this desert town is often rife with tourists, I try to beat the crowd by going after the morning rush. Nevertheless, sometimes I find myself seated next to a line of people waiting to get their own lattes and bagels. One day I failed to notice how many customers had entered the shop—a whole line of people stretched from the door to the counter, with most of the line passing my table. As my fountain pen filled pages of a steno pad, I became aware of stranger’s eyes on my hand and paper. I looked up to see a guy unabashedly reading line after line of what I’d written. I smiled at him and kept writing.
Many coffeeshops are magnets for people with laptops, and no one seems to pay much attention to them. But someone filling lined pages by hand? Now that has become an anomaly. A few weeks ago, I sat in a local Pizza Hut writing away between bites of salad and pizza. At two in the afternoon, I didn’t have to worry about anyone wanting my table. After half an hour of eating and writing, a waitress came by to see if I needed anything. Before she spoke, she watched me for a moment, shook her head and said, “No one writes by hand anymore.”
I wanted to say, Well, that’s not quite true – because I do. Instead, I smiled and agreed with her that it had become rare.
Some observers might surmise that I write by hand because I can’t afford a laptop, but I own several. Since older computers aren’t worth much, when I get a new one, I just keep the old one. I’ll admit to being a bit of a nerd. Computers are wonderful for email, editing, research, creating newsletters, building websites, paying bills, and digitizing handwritten notes. With their huge storage capacity, people can and do store tons of “stuff” on them.
But for creating stories of fictional characters and exciting scenes, I’m grateful I learned cursive.
Keep writing, however you do it!
~Ann
