Penmanship Confessions by Matthew Greene

Handwritten or typed? Some writers, even today, will hand write a first draft. Some have 3rd grade penmanship from the atrophy our handwriting has suffered. Do you still hand write any part of your writing process or are you all type, all the time? 

My second grade teacher was very troubled by my penmanship. She would hover over my shoulder clucking her tongue at the misshapen loops of my Bs and the sad, sorry tails of my Rs. Things got even worse when we made the switch to cursive, and this teacher took to giving me extra assignments just to drill some proper technique into my malleable little head. My mom, an educator herself, thought these concerns with legibility were overblown. When I was sent home for holiday break with an extracurricular handwriting workbook and a fresh batch of insecurities, Mom promptly threw it away and sent me off to play.

Needless to say, I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my own handwriting. I don’t like letting people see the pure, unvarnished chicken scratches that fill the various notebooks on my shelves. When someone gives me a fancy journal—a favorite gift idea for the writer in your life, apparently—it usually goes unused, since I’m loath to sully its gold-edged pages with my subpar script. I prefer cheap, disposable composition books bought in bulk where I can scribble away without scrutiny. 

Maybe this is why I do all my “real” writing on the computer. Brainstorming, ideating, even outlining often lives in the aforementioned messy notebooks. But when the time comes to do the actual work of composition, to put down the words that someone else will actually see, typing takes over. 

Someone should do a neurological study about the different parts of the brain that are activated by different modes of writing. For me, the chaotic early work of creation flows naturally through a pen on paper. But the more organized, orderly task of writing scenes and chapters is triggered by fingers on keys and a glowing screen in front of me. The different modes of creation feel like different muscles groups, and I have a hunch there’s some science to it. (Maybe someone has done this research; I don’t really keep up with neurological research these days.)

Maybe, like most writers, I’m still working out childhood issues through my work. But as far as childhood trauma goes, being browbeaten for bad handwriting isn’t so bad. It just might be one of many reasons my laptop is my preferred writing tool and my notebooks are kept safely out of sight.

PS: The aforementioned second grade teacher wasn’t all bad. She came to a signing of There’s No Murder Like Show Murder and we buried the hatchet once and for all.