A Fiction Writer’s Dilemma: Longhand Versus Keyboard
by Elizabeth Solar
As an elementary school student, my oldest child struggled with writing fluently. Although he possessed an active imagination and flair for storytelling, he often had little output to show for it. His third-grade teacher assured me that once he could use a keyboard, rather than rely on his fine motor skills, he would become a prolific writer. And he did.
Still, it bothers me how the art of teaching cursive has gone the way of civics, Latin and phonics. Some millennials can barely sign their names on a legal document. Technology has made the act of written communication faster and more efficient. In fact, I sign many work-related contracts and NDA’s electronically, thanks to software like Adobe, or DocuSign. Plus, with email, and social media, daily use of a keyboard is inevitable? But is something lost in abandoning a time-honored, not to mention portable, skill? And what does it mean to fiction writers?
When it comes to composing our novels, essays and shorts, what’s the most effective and creative method? My skilled and artful literary tribe contributed to my informal findings. Turns out, although many studies favor one certain mode – spoiler alert, it’s writing in longhand – my writing sisters prove there is more than one way to write a novel, and they employ a combo of methods in any given session.
Each writer in my group favors a laptop to develop their stories. For some, it provides an essential tool to their working environment, and contributes a sense of discipline and structure to their day. One writer says typing “is the best way to synchronize my thoughts with the physical action of writing.” She eschews writing in longhand due to a fear that ‘thoughts may actually disappear if I don’t write fast enough.”
That’s fair. To commit thoughts to paper can be as elusive as catching butterflies with your hands. Additionally, some of those ideas that seem brilliant and insightful often lose a certain je ne sais pas in their translation to the written word.
Everyone in our group use the most expedient method for a particular situation: Scribbling preliminary ideas and notes onto a spiral-bound notepad, capturing that flash of inspiration at a restaurant table, or on the train, or keeping a journal at bedside to document thoughts that spring from the almost-wakeful state, where the mind is relaxed and unfettered by stimuli like pinging electronics, needy animals, children and significant others, as well as our own self-editing.
Although one scribe admits to warehousing volumes of steno pads filled with her prose in her basement, she often avoids writing in longhand because she can’t read her own writing, something with which I totally identify. On balance, most of us jot down ideas, random thoughts, bits of dialogue and structure -- anything that drifts into our minds -- in a notebook, scraps of paper, post-its, and the old standby, the cocktail napkin. What is it about a dimly lit bar, and the tinkling of ice that stokes the creative spirit?
One of our tribe likes to doodle, you know that thing you did in high school so you could take your mind off a calculus. She sketches out a scene or character, perhaps similar to developing a storyboard. It allows her to fail at something she’s unfamiliar with, while it helps her envision how the story will play out.
Another option is to dictate your story, especially since our smart phones always travel with us. This handy little convenience provides a great option when I’m driving at least a half hour. It gives me a chance to develop an idea and talk it through. Something about being on the open road inspires introspection, which often leads to adding to one of my character’s journey, or a flash of insight into a particular motive or behavior. The downside? While I love Siri, listening is not always her strong suit. So rather than ‘The rival gangs engaged in a bloody vendetta that night,’ what’s recorded is ‘Those spiral bangs look good on Vanna White.’
But back to cursive: There is evidence that writing longhand stokes creativity and learning. A few benefits:
It makes you a better writer. A 2009 study at the University of Washington says elementary school student who wrote essays with a pen not only wrote more than those who used a keyboard, the also wrote faster and in complete sentences. Susan Sontag and Truman Capote wrote their first drafts longhand, and sometimes even the final draft.
It keeps you from distraction: Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, baby animal videos of any kind are the kryptonite of even the most disciplined writers. Pick up a pen and give the internet a rest. Even short, focused bursts of writing for 20 minutes can make you a more productive and connected scribe.
It saves you from compulsive self-edits: The keyboard gives us the opportunity to use the delete key too often. It also encourages our worst perfectionist impulses, causing us to write, re-write, and fixate over the same sentence or passage so we are stranded in a literary dead end, stalled and defeated. Worse still --
It frees your mind. We stifle our wildest impulses, the ones that urge us to throw caution to the wind, to wax poetic for no apparent reason, to follow an urge or idea to uncharted creative territory. Write like no one’s watching, because no one is. Leave self-conscious, writerly practices behind, and walk on the wild side. Reckless, fearless writing affords you the freedom to discover as you go along, be a little less ‘scripted,’ and may provide you with literary gold.
It helps work through writer’s block. By doodling, you can distract yourself from brain freeze and keep you involved in your story. Make lists, draw stick figures, arrows, thought bubbles – whatever moves you in the moment. Just the act of placing pen or pencil to paper stimulates the brain to write.
Other benefits? The meditative act of handwriting can slow down nerves, as it revs up your brain. It can help the aging brain retain and remember information and is also said to ease anxiety and depression.
That said, what is the best way to write, the pen or the keyboard? It’s the same answer I give when I ask myself what type of exercise what type of exercise is best. Go with whatever you consistently do, and whatever way works for you.
For further inspiration: Drawing the Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley | Tin House
