I like writing in pen. It’s permanent. Unlike the clicking of keyboard letters, ink settles on the canvas sheet like the sentence was meant to be there. It’s a sort of handwritten art that takes much more concentration than tapping a backspace button. You must be careful with your word placement. Exaggerate your processes. Indulge your imagination. Fill up a lined page with blue letters.  

Notebooks of mine on a shelf 9/14

There are several perks to writing with pen. I advocate that the brainstorming process illustrates the piece better than the written work itself. I believe the tactile skill of pen to paper creates an intimate bond between the author and his utensil, like all great artists, and allows him to feel the beauty his hands created and the eloquence of its wordy sequence. 

Active in my school’s UIL Creative Writing event, I’m familiar with this sensation. In two hours with only a stack of paper and a pen of our choosing, UIL participants are expected to turn in an essay based around the quote the judges choose. It’s extremely open ended and leaves tons to interpretation, which is why I love it. I can create my own story from the quote, and it’s all in blue pen. I differ from the usual contestants who bring their lap tops and portable printers, and with out spell-check, my grammar isn’t as impeccable as others. However, my ending essay shows my thought process, and the scratches on the page broadcast my editing decisions. Allowing the judges to see these flawed pages, I hope it holds raw emotion. 

Although blogging is enjoyable, and I love the fact that anyone can read my work, I crave the privacy of penmanship. It’s my own, but I can always show it to whomever, and it’ll always be personal in my handwriting.    



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