Month of Joy: Putting Ink to Paper by Keith Manuel
Last year I got into fountain pens in a big way. I liked the idea of escaping from the rapid pace of modern communication, just for a few minutes. I bought a Pilot Metropolitan online and got to work leaking ink everywhere and abusing the pen’s poor nib. Little had I known that I took my first step into a larger world. The fountain pen is an elegant tool, and it took time to appreciate that. (I found some good YouTube tutorials.) I began outlining my writing with the fountain pen. I began taking notes during business meetings. I began buying fountain pens as gifts for college graduates. I scrounged for old writing ink bottles in old boxes and at the backs of filing cabinets, like a post-apocalyptic wastelander who finally has time to write their memoirs (TwilightZone.GIF), but in time those ran out. I sought out ink in second-hand stores before accepting that in order to pursue this hobby further I would need to buy my supplies online, receiving a receipt by email and tracking the order with my smartphone.
Month of Joy: Finding Joy in a Fountain Pen by Keith A. Manuel
One of my New Year’s resolutions for 2018 is to take up writing by hand again. I bought my first ever fountain pen, a Pilot Metropolitan, and the most un-holiday-ish Christmas cards I could find on after-holiday discount at my local big retailer store. I also picked up a nice journal and some color pencils. My tools are ready for a year of putting pen to paper. I’ll see how it goes, one page and one day at a time. It seems a retro, nostalgic thing to write this way, but I’m not alone. The Internet of all places is a good place to find pen pals. The prospect of having to wait a week or more for a response to a message when we have multiple, popular direct messaging platforms, Twitter and Facebooks public posts, email, and blogs for instant communication, whether to whoever is interested to read it or to a more restricted audience.
Month of Joy: Pens and Ink by Anne Lyle
When I was eleven years old I started at the local girls’ grammar school, where it was mandatory to use a fountain pen for “neat work”: homework, tests and so on. My parents bought me a Parker 45 Flighter, a pretty swanky pen for a kid, and I felt very grown up using it. That pen served me well through school and university, and for years it was the only fountain pen I owned, apart from a battered vintage Conway Stewart that I sadly lost somewhere along the way.
