Longhand

  

*** Rant ***

Google is now causing problems with my Picasa album.

I refuse to join the Google+ bullshit. I don't want "circles" or Facebook or some bloody status feed.

My favorite form of of communication is the monograph. If I wanted participative communication, I would not shut myself up alone in my library and write.

Bloody Google heathens.

*** end rant***

At left, longhand. I'm finding the ink on paper lubricates my thoughts and gives me somewhere to write those notes that otherwise are paralyzing my efforts this draft. I think of all the little problems in the first draft and need to record those thoughts to quiet the mind. When composing at the keyboard, those thoughts result in rumination which - as any good ruminant knows - leads to inaction which in turn brings in the demons of self-doubt and therein lies the path to the dark side.

Yoda was right: do, or do not. The keyboard for long form seems to result in a great deal of staring and "do not."

Now, I wrote my first three novels - the early works - in longhand. One, I burnt. One I transcribed and hid under the bed. It's still around here doing duty for a broken leg on a chest somewhere. The third I did a professional job upon and for my sins was punished severely. I'll say that the edit job made me a better writer though it took nearly twenty years to recover from the shock.

Anyway, long form is longhand around here. There it is. I use a rolling script because transcribing from the cursive when I write quickly is painful even for me. Thus, the rolling script.

I find the ink across the page soothing. I like its taste on my fingers. I like the act of putting the evening's work into the binder where my sweat stained and wrinkled pages still damp with ink sit next to the crisp new pages awaiting my machinations.  

Odd to say these days but I do like the longhand. I have several fountain pens from over the years. The pair I use now are gifts from my wife. That too makes the act of writing longhand comforting.

It is important to remove the comfort from our characters. We must place them in tumult and force them forward when they would rather recede into myth. It is import that we writers know comfort as we compose. Oh - perhaps not the soft chair or the gentle stains the harp. Rather, we need the comfort in our own abilities and the sense of immersion we enter into as we lie. After all, in fiction we lie.

I know you're lying now. You should be writing. You tell yourself on the clock "I'm writing."

Stop reading this blog post and write something. Write something that makes you comfortable. I hope I hear gunshots from it. That makes me comfortable.