Handwriting and the Singularity from James W. Ziskin

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

I intended to write this week’s post by hand to prove a point, but it was going to take me five times longer to do it that way. So, in the end, I took the easy way out and decided to type it on a keyboard instead. And I’ll tell you why.

First of all, I would have had to use a physical dictionary if I’d wanted to check my spelling, which is impekable, but still. And, of course, I’d probably already have had a cramp in my hand if I’d been doing this the old-fashioned way.

Some people think writing by hand makes the experience more personal and somehow more virtuous than using a computer or a voice-to-text app. Pshaw! Those are the same folks who believe walking to the furniture store to carry that new queen-size sofa bed back home on their backs is preferable to borrowing a friend’s pick-up truck for the job. Or maybe just order it online using a keyboard.

While it’s true that some technological advances feel more like slippery steps closer to the singularity, typewriters and keyboards ain’t one of them. They’re not going to take over the world and subjugate us all with their tapping and clicking. Okay, we might break a fingernail, but that’s about it.

Here are a few benefits keyboards afford us:

1. Thanks to keyboards, we can erase our errors without leaving a trace. No one needs to know we’re clumsy typists. But you can’t erase pen ink, and who among us hasn’t torn a perfectly fine sheet of paper in a fit of pencil-erasing zeal?
2. Bad penmanship is a scourge of the past. We no longer need to strain our eyes and patience trying to read our own chicken scratchings. (Except on a grocery list.)
3. Spelling errors are (mostly) under control, thanks to the myriad technologies that we access via keyboards.
4. Keyboards also free us from the drudgery of alphabetical order. QWERTY is much more efficient than ABCDE, isn’t it? (AZERTY, si vous êtes français.)
5. And who can forget that pianos became much easier to play once they added keyboards. I upgraded my spinet last year and no longer need to whack away with eighty-eight handheld, felt-tipped hammers.

Let’s be honest. We rarely need handwriting these days. We can scan documents with our phones, dictate speech-to-text, and listen to text-to-speech. We can ask our digital assistants (future overlords) for all manner of assistance, including writing. And, of course, we can even create fonts that mimic our own handwriting. Smudged ink will go the way of the dinosaurs.

But don’t fret. Handwriting will always have its place for signing documents. Oh, wait. There are digital signatures now. Damn!

Perhaps when the singularity comes, a robot will forge our signature and sell our house out from under us. In that case, we won’t need that queen-size sofa bed.

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The pen is mightier

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?

by Dietrich

Let’s face it: a final manuscript must be typed. What editor or publisher would touch a handwritten draft, no matter how neatly penned? That said, there’s something special about handwriting those early brainstorming notes or even an entire first draft, something that transcends mere nostalgia. 

No question, handwriting is slow, but that’s precisely its strength. The deliberate pace forces me to linger, letting ideas simmer and take shape. The rhythmic scratch of the pen allows me to pause, reflect, and refine as I write. For me, this slowness unlocks creativity. And a plain notebook becomes a quiet sanctuary, free from the distraction of incoming emails, pop-up ads and social media. No “quick Twitter checks” that spiral into an hour-long doom-scroll. In a world of constant digital noise, that’s no small thing.

There’s also evidence to back this up. Studies suggest handwriting can improve retention of conceptual information compared to typing. When I jot down ideas by hand, they do seem to stick with me longer. Am I alone in this?

But let’s not romanticize handwriting too much. When it’s time for the second draft, the keyboard is king. Typing is fast, fluid, and efficient, letting thoughts pour onto the screen almost as quickly as they form. It’s perfect for capturing a rapid-fire burst of ideas or restructuring a scene with a few clicks. Cut, copy, paste—try doing that with a pen. Anyone else nostalgic for the days of Wite-Out?

Using a computer makes revisions a breeze. I can reorganize entire chapters, tweak dialogue, delete that paragraph I thought was brilliant at 2 a.m. but now reads like crap. And let’s not forget backups—cloud storage and external drives keep the work safer than a notebook.

The sweet spot lies in blending both worlds. I love marking up a printed second draft by hand, circling awkward phrases and scribbling notes in the margins. Reading the draft aloud, pacing the room with pages in hand, helps me catch clunky dialogue or pacing issues that might slip by on a screen. It’s a tactile way to reconnect with the work.

Ultimately, it’s about what fuels the creativity. I don’t always write my first draft by hand, sometimes the keyboard calls from the start. But staying open to both methods keeps my process fresh and flexible. One day, I might be sprawled on the couch with a pen and notebook, lost in the flow of ink. The next, I’m hammering out a scene at my desk, the keyboard keeping pace with my thoughts.