THE MORNING NEWS

I used to write

poetry at the typewriter. I used to draft my essays directly at the computer keyboard. But somewhere along the way, that changed. I went back to writing my first take in longhand, with pen and paper. I think when I started to keep my Vagabond journals, I reverted to the old-fashioned way of doing things, and found that sometimes my writing hand knew more than my thinking brain about what I wanted to say. And so I've taken to writing longhand again.

I use a Parker fountain pen with cartridges for the task. I have two identical Parker pens, actually - one for home games, and one for away. Both pens are "broken in," that is, they move smoothly for my left-handed scrawl. A right-hander now finds them difficult to use. The force of my using them has made them mine.

I like the smooth flow of the fountain pen. I like the way the nib scratches the paper. I like the way the ink gleams for a moment before it dries. Yet I am not paralyzed without my Parker. Sometimes we get in our own way by thinking that such things as one's favorite pen and notebook are essential to the writing; they are not. They are a comfort, yes, but they are not essential.

I have three favorite approaches to paper. For my Vagabond Journals and my personal journal, I prefer the 150-sheet 6" x 9" spiral-bound notebook. When you retire from the printer where I worked, the company traditionally gives you a gift that will be useful in the coming years. If you're a fisherman, for instance, you may get fishing gear. When I retired, I told them I wanted 6" x 9" spiral-bound notebooks, and nothing else. They didn't listen any better then than they ever did, so they also gave me a new coat for my Vagabond travels because they thought the one I'd been wearing to work was a little ratty. Yet they also gave me NINETY 6" x 9" notebooks. Those will last me a few years. I have so far been through about twenty of them. I use them when I get so formal as to be "making an entry in the journal."

At some time since I retired I discovered how lovely are those 7-1/2" x 9-3/4" Composition Books. You remember them from school - they have stiff covers with a black and white marble pattern. I bought a few originally to use for my "stand-up" Vagabond interviews, those occasions when I knew the subject wouldn't be comfortable with a tape recorder, or when I was touring a factory and doing the interview at the same time. Well, I've found I like these Composition Books so much that now I use them for other work - this is where I scrawl my "Morning News," for instance, and where I draft the "Lines" I put up each day at The Middlewesterner.

Did you know there are pocket-size Composition Books? They look exactly like their larger cousins, but fit in the shirt pocket or your jeans' pocket. Ideal for those situations where you don't want to tip off people that a writer has entered the building. When you don't want to scare someone away with your notebook before you've had the chance to worm your way in his or her heart. If you do as much eavesdropping as I do, you don't want to give away your intentions, and the pocket-size Composition Book is the writing paper of choice in such situations.

And my third favorite writing surface? Do you know "scratch paper?" It's the blank backside of any document no longer needed for its original purpose. Such paper is all around us. I don't like throwing away sheets that are still good on one side, so I use such waste paper. I don't like using the full 8-1/2" x 11" page, so I fold it in half, printed surface against printed surface, and write on one of the resulting 5-1/2" x 8-1/2" blanknesses. Perfect for those jottings when you know you'll have to shuffle what you have to say; for instance, this scratch paper is perfect for notes towards a book review. I respond to a book as I read it, tuck the sheet of scratch paper into the book where I had the bit of conversation with the author, then when I finish reading the book I pull my notes together and these form the basis of my "appreciation," as I now call my reviewing.

I remain open to other possibilities in the way of pen and paper - assuming there's a need not met by my Parker, my 6" x 9" notebooks, my Composition Books, and my scratch paper. I find my chosen tools very useful, but I can work without them, as I say. Someday maybe you're having coffee in your favorite restaurant, or having at your platter of $2.69 biscuits and gravy, and you see some greybeard making notes onto paper napkins, dark scribblings about conversations he has overheard at the neighboring tables. That would be me. I write on paper napkins when I have to.

Comments

[Pica]

As a fellow fountain-pen junkie I'm sure you'll appreciate my despair over having mislaid my favorite Waterman... The cap has fit badly for a long time but the nib's the best.

I bought myself a new pen on Saturday as a little reward for having lost 10 lbs -- it's a very heavy pen, black and steel, a work horse where the cap screws not only over the nib but also at the top, a boon for people like me who lose things.

I have a bunch of notebooks bound by the printer too, but I use them mostly for sketching. It's Sundance felt 65 # cover. For writing, I like the smooth velvet Clairefontaine notebooks...

[Dave]

Very interesting. I do prefer to use the word processor for drafting poetry because otherwise I go through so many drafts, and I've just grown very acclimated to it. But when i do use paper (like when I'm traveling), it must be unlined. I can't stand to draft a poem on lined paper. My pocket notebook is lined, but that's just for jotting down thoughts or taking notes on what someone is saying.

[MB]

A friend asked me just recently what I use to write. He seemed taken aback when I told him I write mostly on the computer. I think he expected the answer to be pen and paper, or a beloved journal. Though I certainly appreciate fine papers and writing implements, I had a typewriter as a child, and a keyboard seems a natural extension - though I miss the old typewriters. As a child, I can recall feeling that I could better judge if my writing was "done" when it was typed, because it looked as in a book. I do sometimes write by hand, but generally the words come faster than I can write - hence, the keyboard. I wonder if someday I, too, will change my ways. I suppose if someone gave me ninety notebooks I just might!

[Tom Montag]

Hi, Pica--your pen sounds delicious. Mine are the more utilitarian variety. I couldn't bring myself to buy such a fine instrument for fear of losing the damn thing. And I see the tooth of the paper is important for you, how the paper grabs you and lets go. That's the sweetest point, where the nib touches the paper and the paper touches it back....

[Tom Montag]

Dave--believe that I used to believe as you do. I had a kind of haughtiness about it actually, looking down on those lesser beings and their yellow pads. Well, I've changed that tune. But I still do compose directly sometimes. Really, I think it is the seredipity of what my writing hand writes, sometimes, compared to what I was thinking. I read what I've written longhand and am surprised at times: "Did I write that?" THAT's what I like.

You know, the number of drafts I go through has never been a problem for me. Sometimes it's like a blizzard of paper. Yet I think there comes a moment when it is advantageous to go from longhand to keyboard - generally after the first rush of inspiration is past.

[Tom Montag]

Hi, MB--I was a typesetter for a while in my previous live, typing for 12 or 15 hours straight when the crunch was on, so I can type. In those days I could type a hundred words a minute. So I could type as fast as the words are coming, if I wanted to. But now I find that's not what I want to do. I want to slow them down. For some reason, I find I can see the whole more clearly when writing longhand, than when typing. Odd, yes?

But when I want to do SERIOUS revision, I need to have a typed copy printed out in typewriter face (Courier New), a fiction given all the fonts available on the computer, but one that works best for me.

There's no explaining some things, I guess. The more I think about how I write, the more I think it's magic. And I'm supposed to teach Advanced Composition to college students starting next Tuesday?? We are going to have fun.