I hear about famous writers who staunchly required particular tools when writing. Certain pens or typewriters. You don’t hear too much about that anymore because everybody uses word processors and interchangeable keyboards.
I’ve used pencils, pens, typewriters, touch screens, and yes, keyboards. The words are my joy, and the process rarely changes much. A sentence or two, then a pause to tug at the hair under my lip, or to lightly squeeze the corners of my fingernails between my teeth while I think about the next sentence. Playing jazz on internet radio.
Right now it’s a SteelSeries mechanical keyboard and Red Garland on the radio. We make beautiful noise together. I’m sure I’m not the only asshole who types like I’m playing an instrument, lifting my hands and twisting my wrists and MASHING the right keys at the right beat. If you’ve got the rhythm, you’ve got the words.
I can see the love in every process. With pens it’s the glide, the roller coaster loops, the smooth paper bending to your pressure-point ministrations. With pencils, for me, it’s the before-words, the knifing away angle and curve to reach the perfect sharpness to mirror your piercing sentences. With touch screens it’s desperation, heights of passion hitting out of nowhere, desperately trying to communicate a thought before it goes away. With typewriters it’s fury, it’s violence, beating down the keys, giving that blank page a black eye. And with keyboards, it’s the fingertip dance, the percussion punch, the rhythm and flow.
Yes, I can understand why some writers prefer their individual tools. But in the end the words always need to come out, and when they need to come out, any tool will do.
Today’s three writing prompt categories were, “That beautiful sound,” “Nonfiction,” and, “Bitten fingernails.”
I took a risk making a “nonfiction” prompt category. What if my other categories were things like cowboy wizards and alien invasions? I really lucked out here.
P.S. There is a deer grazing just outside my window. Living in the mountains is amazing.