The Power of the Pen

And why you should use it

Let me preface this by saying I am not a writer. I aspire to be, but it will be a while before I can cross out the not. I do, however, write. A lot.

I've typed tens of thousands of non-creative words in my day job, probably a lot more. Sometimes I'm even proud of them, but most of the time they are just there to serve their purpose. And that's all right.

Maybe it's because of those lifeless words that a spark of desire to write something with a life of its own, a living world of characters, started growing. And here I am typing away my first story. Well, the first draft of my story. The power the words can hold.

But alas, I am typing. Not writing. It's one and the same. But not just quite. It is, when you are crafting your story, don't get me wrong. Imagining someone writing out a 100,000 word novel pen and paper in this time and age would be insanity. Chef's kiss and only the most utter respect to you if you do though.

Typing lacks something. Old typewriters I'm just old enough to remember, were a satisfactory bridge between the super old ways and the new era, the era of silent, effortless keystrokes (well, unless you have a mechanical keyboard). Each stroke of the key came with a satisfactory feedback, loud and resisting. A simple typo was felt deeply, not to be erased into oblivion by a click of the backspace. Each new line written rewarded with a satisfactory clank. Writing was more sensual.

Would I prefer the old ways? Heck no! I make far too many mistakes and my writing is far too chaotic. Too many trees would die for no purpose.

So, yes, we're skipping the typewriter. And here comes the pen. Not just any pen either — a pencil will do, ink pen, I promise will deliver magic. A quill? Well, with that, you're pure magic. Regular ballpoint pen you get at the stands. Satisfactory. Avoid gel pens like the plague. You don't want your pen to glide on the paper. You want it to resist it, to give just enough friction you hear the word you are writing down, to feel that light stutter. Just one word a day. On a piece of paper. Feel it. Let it fill you. Brainchanging.

What I wrote down today, just before writing this? "Let's go." — My way of saying "Hello Substack, Let's Get this Show on the Road."