I’ve been going over the last few chapters I wrote by hand. Ink pen, by a picture window, sunlight pouring in. For some reason, with some projects, this works when I’m trying to make things real. It doesn’t finish the process by any means, but when I take the time to break my paragraphs down and rewrite them in longhand, it seems to draw me into the world I’m describing. Word choice becomes more precise because, dammit, it’s actually difficult to write this way, physically. I never recall as a kid getting tired of writing with a pen (although I’m sure I must have when I got stuck with one of those godawful punishments “you will write a hundred time ‘I will not be contrary to the teacher’s arbitrariness.”)…
