Saturday, August 20, 2011

Computers versus Hand-writing

I love computers for writing more than using my own hand, a pen and some paper. I can type faster than I can write by hand; computers are more efficient – I can save thousands of words, of multiple works on a single computer; I can rewrite numerous times over; typing puts easy-to-read words on the page rather than my handwritten chicken-scratch; a computer is perfect to use for small questions or quick fact checks about the topic you are writing about. In short, there are a lot of pros for using a computer. Then why is it I still have a soft spot for writing by hand?

I began writing with the following romantic image lodged in my head: a writer ruminating with pad of paper on his desk, pen or pencil in hand, eyes wild with inspiration, cooped up – yet cozy – in a small bedroom with a window showing a dark, snowy night. This image also sustains me as a writer, for it really defines what writing is about. A person spilling their mind and soul on to the page with the hope the message transcends the personal, the obscure, and becomes universal. It is the image of grappling with your conscience to detail the difficult to define abstract. How does one detail a dream so that it resounds with other people? This question shows how this image, although romantic, is accurate: a person needs solitude to think, peace and quiet to create. This image shows the artist free from distraction. Although a computer is efficient, it is also a tool that can become a distraction. For a computer is also used for internet access, movie watching, game playing, music listening. Facebook! An all time distracter of thoughts! A horrible waste of time – that is, if you are checking your page seven to ten times a day. When I write by hand, my thoughts do wander when the writing hits a wall. ‘I wonder if ‘so-and-so’ responded to my message?’ I feel I must check my computer. If I am using my computer to write in that moment, I will usually check on the internet. Perhaps it’s a compulsion… After all, the computer’s already powered on. If I am writing by hand, it allows a brief moment for me to say to myself, ‘Ahh, I have to go downstairs, turn the computer on, wait for it to power up, log in etc.’ and by the time I get to ‘etc’ I toss the thought in the trash. I remember why I chose to write by hand to begin with: free of distraction.

A final thought before I close this entry… Perhaps farfetched, but a wish on the wish list nonetheless.

Handwriting’s got more character, charm, passion and texture than any font of a computer or printing press. I love handwriting – my own, but also other writer’s. When the PARIS REVIEW features an interview with a writer, they usually input an author’s draft page from a previous book or work-in-progress. You get to see the writer’s personality: if the words are written in cursive, printed, tiny or large letters, with a slant or straight; if the page has lines or no lines, doodles of varying artistic ability or free from them (Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky doodled on their draft pages). For me this reveals more about the author’s personality than an interview. You see, in an interview, you have the author responding to questions from the interviewer. It can be intimate, but it is not singularly private. An observer is present to record the subject’s words and actions. But when you see the author’s draft page, you encounter a page that was created privately, used only as a draft to be seen by the author before he or she edits the piece. It is more intimate than being a fly on the wall in the author’s workspace. Instead, it is akin to examining the inner workings of the mind. What it reveals is up to your interpretation, or the writer’s, if he is so generous to talk about the draft page. And for those writers that use typewriters or computers to draft their stories, most print out the pages and edit by hand.

A wish: that after a final draft has been printed, that the writer binds all the previous drafts – the shitty first one, the terrible second one, ridiculous third one and so on, with all errors, pencilled-in-edits, and remarks suggesting the deletion or addition of certain words – and sell the draftworks to the public. For a writer to follow initial inspiration through the labyrinthine paths of drafts to the synthesis of a final product would be invaluable. That is why I love to read QUERY SHARK. You can follow the queries as they progress from first drafts to polished final ones, and the comments that helped shaped them to become winners.

I love computers for their efficiency, but sometimes I just get tired of looking at the computer screen or becoming distracted. That’s why I love to turn off the computer, forget about Facebook and emails, pick up my notebook and write by hand. I need to remind myself of that romantic image that started my career.

2 comments:

Clare Wilson said...

Wonderful post! I've been feeling burned-out about computers and word-processing lately, too, so I totally understand how you feel. There really is something romantic about writing with pen and paper in a private den of some sort.

I actually wrote one of my novels in several notebooks, because I wanted that freedom from technological distraction, that physical grappling with the reality of the story. Even though I wrote the next two novels on a computer, the process still made enough impact that I'm going to try it again soon!

Thank you for your thought-provoking post!

A. A. Aaronson said...

Thank you for commenting SolariC.

I certainly feel more connected to my words when writing by hand, but I don't write as much.

Capote wrote two drafts by hand, in pencil, and then a third by type writer.

When I write by hand, it's usually in a journal, as I am confiding to myself. It's more personal than fiction, to me anyways. I feel that connection between hand-writing and the content, and the purpose for doing so. When I write fiction, I feel like a recorder observing the people and time and place, in a way, alien.

Have you read any of Anais Ninn's journals? Candid, confidential, I feel like I'm reading her soul.

I wonder how Dostoevsky's THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD would've been different if it were fictionalized, or in a diary-type of format.