HANDWRITTEN

One of the questions many people ask when they learn I am a writer is whether I prefer to write by hand or on the computer. Then, before I have a chance to reply, they answer for me.

“Obviously you use a computer. You have to type everything up in the end anyway.”

I suppose they are right. Typing takes less time, and it is easier to edit words on a screen, to erase them and begin again. In a fast paced world where productivity is key, word processing programmes have made life infinitely easier. Which is why I am no longer surprised by their shocked reactions to my admission that I prefer writing by hand.

My handwriting is admittedly abysmal. I’ve been told many times that I would have made a great doctor due to my mostly illegible penmanship (I didn’t appreciate this joke the first time I heard it in grade three, so you can imagine how I feel about it now). Sometimes I can trick myself into writing with neat, well-formed letters and evenly spaced words. Then, as I begin thinking faster, the words become a jumble of scribbles that only I can decipher.

Why then, with the knowledge that it is easier and arguably neater to type my work, do I still choose to write by hand? The answer is simple: I want to.

I have to admit there are few things in this world that excite me more than a blank piece of loose leaf paper. Just the thought of those blue and pink lined pages fills me with ideas for brand new characters and unexplored stories. The same cannot be said for words written on the computer, which I can spend many hours crafting, only to delete in frustration with the instantaneous click of a button. Words printed on paper can be crossed out, but they can’t really be erased. Even if I am unhappy with my writing, in the end, I am always glad to see little notes jotted on the corners of the page, or to find reminders of ideas that would otherwise be forgotten.

I love planning on paper too. I find it easiest to lay all my thoughts out in front of me, creating a canvas of ideas in order to properly form the story. Part of this comes down to my memory as well. I can always remember when and where I wrote something down, making it easier to find again later. I never have that same level of recognition on a computer, where all the files, folders, and pages end up looking the same.

I will often find myself staring at a blank computer screen, wondering why I can’t get the words to pour out the way I would like. This is usually when I know it is time to reach for my notebook, where it becomes much easier to work without distraction. With this long-form style, I am not stifled by plot issues, and I don’t feel the need to stop and second guess myself every few sentences. I simply write, with the words flowing as quickly as my pen will allow, and don’t stop until the thought, scene or chapter is complete. The editing comes after I’ve found the best way to tell my story.

This is no way means that I don’t love having a computer, or that I don’t use it on a daily basis. I do. If someone were to look through my notebooks, they would notice many places where a scene ends abruptly, only for the next line to pick up at a different point in the story. I like to switch between paper and the computer, and once I’ve finished typing up my written work, I will often press on, not to return to my notebook until much later.

I’ve come to learn, though, that writing by hand offers me a level of peaceful contemplation that I cannot achieve with electronics. When early morning inspiration strikes, it is much simpler to reach for a pen than it is to start up the computer. With handwriting, it is easy to get lost in a creative world, only to resurface hours later with pages of characters and stories that did not exist before. There are no pending updates or news feeds to contend with. Just me, my pen, and empty piece of paper waiting to be filled.