I still write by hand.
Granted, I also type an awful lot -- last I checked, I clock about 75 WPM, and that's with my unorthodox typing style that primarily utilizes my pointer fingers, thumbs, and pinkies -- but when it comes to sitting down and writing creatively, I still, always have, and will continue to write by hand. I've often been asked by friends, family, concerned onlookers, etc. why I prefer this archaic method of putting pencil to paper and scribbling along. I've wondered myself.
Am I subconsciously working to fit this image in my head of a writer, bent over a desk in a dim room half-lit by an oil lamp, my fingers black with ink as I work to create a story?
Do I like the scritch-scratch sound of ruffling sheets of paper, the tears of the frills as I shuffle through stacks of notebook paper ripped from spiral bindings?
Maybe I just like the cramps and early warning signs of carpal tunnel that ache my hands and wrists?
Perhaps it's all of these things listed above and more. There's just something about writing by hand that's difficult to describe through these clunky keys as I write this blog post, but I will endeavor to do so.
