writers on longhand

“Anyone can become a writer. The trick is staying a writer.”

Harlan Ellison.

For five months I’ve been driving back and forth between every furniture store in Western Washington, who BTW, all carry the same ugly, unstylish desks in the same limited six colors. But enough’s enough. I made a snap decision. “That one!” I told the sales clerk. “Let’s order it now … book someone to come out and put it together now … before I change my mind.” (Again.)

I wanted Manhattan loft-style, Parisian chic, with a touch of LA smooch. What I ended up with was … well … what I ended up with.

A week later the ‘new desk’ is all set up. LCD in place, speaker phone at the perfect angle, low lamp and high lamp directed to optimize mood and light. Necessary ‘bits’ tucked neatly in drawers. And a mug full of imported English Ginger Beer spitting bubbles at my fingertips.

And now, oh you’ve guessed it. I have nothing to say. Nada. Rien. Niente. Nichts.

Looking for inspiration I grab one of hundreds of books from a shelf.

“Write about what you know”, it says. Hmmm, today that feels like nothing. Nada. Rien … oh here we go again.

“Write about your family”, it says. Errr, that’s a definite no. Won’t risk my brother reciprocating by posting ‘ugly-big-sis’ pictures on his photo-blog.

“Write about the horizon”, it says. Could do, but it’s pitch black outside. So I can see nothing. Nada … rien …

Still uninspired, I blame my new desk. (Doesn’t every bad workman blame his tools?) And then I remember an interview I did several years ago with movie writer and novelist, Gerald Di Pego, and decide instead, to blame my computer.

Di Pego wrote over 30 screenplays in 30 years, achieving massive Hollywood recognition and multi-million dollar paycheck status with the movies Phenomenon, Instinct, The Forgotten. But he always—as in always—wrote his screenplays and novels longhand, using the same brand of pen and notepad.

Neil Simon wrote his plays longhand using a fountain pen and extra long legal pads, all of which he brought back from England.

Tom Peters, author of In Search of Excellence, told me he too wrote longhand; again, using pens and extra-long legal pads from England.

According to legend, J. K. Rowling drafted the beginnings of the Harry Potter series on napkins in a Scottish coffee shop. And Erma Bombeck apparently got her start by scribbling longhand in the back of her station wagon (that she drove around the corner to escape her kids).

Each of them had their own reasons for writing longhand. Neil Simon said he simply never got on with typewriters, word processors, PCs; he felt technology hindered the creative aspect of writing. Peters, being Peters, wouldn’t give his reasons, even when I asked him directly.

But Di Pego spoke from his heart when he patted my hand and told me to write from my heart.

He believes that writing longhand encourages free-flow from the mind to the heart to the page. He feels it more personal, more allowing, more expressive.

I agree, there’s something instantly freeing about gliding pen and ink across a clean page. Something close to excitement about opening a blank book; the salivating anticipation of a new beginning.

My hastily scribbled morning pages are always hand written using the same emotionally selected A4-size journals, and one of two hand-crafted pens that were both gifts. I always brainstorm new projects and longer features using large sketchbooks and smooth wall-mounted whiteboards. But write an assignment, let alone a play or manuscript longhand? I would never meet a deadline!

How about you ... do you ever write longhand? If so, why, when, and where?