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When I first began to write seriously (Ok fine, semi-seriously) at around 14, I had no smart devices or even a computer. I started writing my first novel in a spiral bound notebook with a pencil.
I highly caution against that as I have in the past: Pencil can and will rub away leaving a graphite mess.
My next project, in high school, was written yet again in a spiral notebook, but this time in pen. Better, but spiral notebooks tend to get trashed in backpacks and lose their spiral, their cover, their pages or all of the above. That project took up a notebook and a half, and then I still tried to write the sequel in a spiral bound notebook. You think I would have learned by then, but no.
The next few projects after that, I wised up a little and put them all in a binder, but still in spiral notebooks. Somehow that made sense to me. Teenage logic, I guess.
Then, I moved to binder paper in a binder, each project separated by a divider (Go me for being organized!) But at that time I was working on like 8-10 different projects and never getting anything done (Boo!). Most of those projects are still not done— I had new project-itis for most of my Sophomore year, too busy crushing on boys (Darn you teenage hormones!).
Junior year, I finished a project— yet again in a spiral notebook. Yay more teenage logic.
Senior year, I went back to binders and paper, which was more effective because I finished that project just after I turned 18 (Yay being an adult). However, I wrote it in erasable pen, so just like pencil, it’s smudged and nearly unreadable now.
The first NaNoWriMo I did I was freshly 18 with loose pages in a loose folder that was overstuffed after like a week. I don’t really know, that year was weird AF, adjusting to college, getting my heart broken, hating the hard left from art to sciences.
After that, I wised up a little bit and finally switched to composition notebooks and RSVP pens (My favorite!). I would write in the notebook and color in the cover, it was like double the stress relief. I even had two point of views with 4 different colors. I had it all organized and figured out, but the novel/series was never finished.
The first series I finished in a composition notebook (yes, with different colored RSVP pens) was in 2011. I can’t remember exactly how long it was, but I know I used two composition notebooks (with funny patterns, thanks Walmart!) and ran out a few of the pens in the process.
I wrote the rest of that series (or at least parts of it) in different composition notebooks until 2015 when I finally got my first iPhone.
After that, the world was my oyster. I could write anywhere, I could work through projects at the speed of light and not have to worry about typing them up from a notebook later (This was before I learned how to touch type— that was rough!). The first novel I typed was on a Samsung phone back in 2012, which I do not recommend, that was awful.
That experience in 2012 turned me off of technology for a while, hence why I didn’t upgrade until 2015.
Technology is great. I really enjoy typing at the speed of light and getting my ideas out as fast as I can think them and my fingers can type them. I love how connected the internet has made us, and how quick we can share ideas with each other.
However, there are times when I miss writing by hand.
I miss writing notes in the margins and writing initials from where I used to read my work out loud to my best friend (I cringe now, re-reading those works and sometimes even laugh).
I miss writing song titles at the top of the page whenever I heard a song I liked from the music channels on cable.
I miss writing down ideas as soon as they would come to me. Notes about later in the story, ideas for another spin-off.
I miss writing notes about life in the margins like “essay due 3/11” and “get milk”.
Handwriting has always felt just a touch more personal than typing on a screen. There was something so magical about starting a notebook on the first page and reaching the last page, or running a pen out of ink at the worst possible time, but loving the feel of the full pen once it was back on the page.
I recently picked up handwriting again last year when I was in the throws of the year from hell. I had wanted to get back into writing, away from a screen that I’d been stuck to for years between writing and school. The screen that I only wanted to use for distractions because that was all I had the bandwidth for at the time. I managed to write for 11 days in a row in August, and it went well, until it didn’t. I stopped, then let doubt come in and then by the time I picked up the notebook again, it was September. Still, I tried to get back into it, then I realized I hadn’t outlined enough.
Still, it was great to write in the margins, great to write by hand and get the ink on my fingers, great to be able to see my accomplishments and hold them in my hands.
I still want to finish that project. I still want to hand write at least parts of it. It’s a massive project and will take me a lot of time, but finally that excites me again rather than frightens me. The difference now is I’m older and I don’t mind using the “fancy” notebooks.
When it comes down to it, it doesn’t always matter how you write a story, whether online, spoken aloud or in any manner of notebooks with any kinds of pens.
All that matters is that you’re telling the story and moving forward toward the finish line.
I still remember every story I’ve written, no matter how much actually got onto the page. There are a few of them that are lost to time (or in storage), but the ones I do have I have scanned into my computer.
Who knows, I might pick one up and continue it someday.
No effort is ever wasted if you enjoyed doing it.
