Pen To Paper

Do you remember that song Video Killed The Radio Star, by the Buggles many years ago? It was the first video to air on MTV and, thus, launched a new age in popular music.

I’ve been thinking for a few weeks about the written word; not the typed word, but the written word. I’m not that old, but I remember as a child being fascinated with how people wrote. I remember watching my left-handed mother write a grocery list and noticing that some of her letters were script and some were not. I remember getting hand written notes and letters from my grandmother. I marveled at how her strokes flowed. The words were graceful and eloquent. The letters wrapped around each other and seemed to me to be perfect. My father used to write me notes before he left for work. They were simple notes that consisted mostly of instructions or fatherly advice. I remembered noticing how his handwriting was so different from my mother’s or my grandmother’s handwriting. I learned to love to write. I learned the depth of words. I learned that once you put words to paper they couldn’t be taken back as if they’d been spoken. Writing made words permanent.

Then, the age of technology fell upon me. Oh, computers – the ease, the simplicity, the efficiency of them was truly profound. But, in all the technology I feel as though the written word has been lost. I wouldn’t say that my life revolves around my computer, but a good portion of my life depends upon it. And yet, I find I make the time to sit down and hand write something because I enjoy it so much. Even now when I write, I write it out in hand first and then type it. Of course, I make changes as I go along, but I’ve had to think about the words before I put pen to paper to let them flow. I sit in a special place and smell the paper in my journal and the ink of my pen and I write. Last week I got a hand written thank you card in the mail from a friend. “How kind and sweet that she took the time to write – actually write her words of thanks.” I thought to myself. She could just as easily have e-mailed me or called me – she only lives across town. Yet, she took the time to write and mail me a note. I traced her written words with my finger at the mailbox. Her style of writing reflected who she is. You can’t get that through a computer.

I think that a few years from now people will be talking about how computers killed the written word and how a new age has come. I will be talking about what a shame that is and I will continue to write – pen to paper.