Fountain of Awesomeness

There is something very intimate about writing. I don’t know how it is for other writers.  For me, though, the words have more power and a deeper intimacy based on how they are written, and sometimes about whom or for they are written.

The draft of the book I just finished for National Novel Writing Month, for example, while sprung forth from my soul, doesn’t bear the same level of meaning or intimacy as if I were, to say, paint a love poem on the back of a lover.  Both come from the same place-my muse, my writer’s brain, my fucked up head-whatever you want to call it. But both are very different in their delivery, and how they are born in to this world.                

I guess what I’m saying is, writing is as much of a physical experience for me as a mental one.  If Im typing, the keyboard has to feel right (the MacBook keyboards still have the best laptop feel for me).  I’m still finding my ideal typer, but so far the Hermes Rocket is my baby.

And then there’s pen to paper.        

I spent two years looking for the perfect stylus to be able to take notes and do quick writing on my iPad.  Adonit had the closest simulation of real pen to paper, but there was always that paper drag that just never quite hit the right way on the iPad. So…I went from that to the LiveScribe system. Real pen. Real paper. And the ability to sync the notes digitally.

Then a funny thing happened.

Yesterday, I was looking at the LiveScribe app on my phone, realizing I hadn’t launched it in quite some time. I fired it up and turned on my pen. Nothing.  The battery on the pen was dead. I couldn’t tell you when it last worked or last sync’d.

That was the a-ha moment. The moment that I realized that I really didn’t have a need to keep digital backups of my notes.  It was just a neat gimmick  Sidebar, if anyone is looking for a LiveScribe pen and some notebooks, let me know–I can hook you up.

Rewind a few weeks back to a gruelingly awesome session of D&D. Evan was taking notes about our campaign with a Parker Metropolitan Fountain Pen (yes, it’s probably a sign that I know the brand and type).  It was like watching magic spill on to the page.

There is something so sexy about a fountain pen.  It’s just classy. And the fundamentals haven’t changed in decades (centuries?).  It’s just…(whatever that noise is when you’re worked up over something in a good way).  Yes. That.

Fast forward to my birthday. I got a $25 Amazon Gift Card.  So..I ordered a fountain pen.
I got a Lamy Vista with 5 spare cartridges. Don’t worry, I’ll be ordering the bulb syringe and cartridge conversion kit soon.    And I started writing with this thing last night.

Wow. So fucking amazing.

It’s not that the words I wrote were any greater, but there was something more…physical about the process. With a fountain pen, you can feel every letter.

Paper makes a difference. Ink makes a difference. I’m assured I’ll find my sweet spot for preferred inks, nibs, and papers.

Things that most of us overlook in our Bic clicking world are suddenly a thing.

And it’s awesome.

I don’t know that I would write a complete manuscript draft by hand, but I can tell you this–if I did, I’d damn sure be using a fountain pen.

I’ll probably be writing more poems and songs with the pen.

I know it seems like a silly thing…and I don’t know that I’m doing a good job at the moment about explaining why it feels so much more….real.

There are times when I feel like my writing is pretty much just me bleeding my heart and soul out on to the page.

And the fountain pen is the implement of that soul-letting.

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