Typing or Handwriting

I read a post once that the writer needed to write things down on paper. I tried it. I took a Pacific Northwest Cruise last year (and most decidedly my last group trip) and had some free time. I had brought a writing notebook and a few pens. I decided I would find some time to actually write down some stuff.

I did find the time and the smallest most private bars on the ship. I was able to nurse a few glasses of wine while I wrote down an outline of chapters that I was working on. Ok, I wrote it down and later I tried to read it. Impossible. I have the worlds most awful handwriting. I should have been a doctor. I cannot stand to push a pen across the page. Not to say everything was wasted. My entire scene of the old men vs. the young men was created. Just in my head. As I drank I visualized the men. I heard the arguments. I sipped my wine. the tension increased. I sipped some more. Good old Rawlings. He stepped in before I could drink myself into a stuper. Shame I did not have a computer. That is how I write.

I do not know why but I can sit down in front of my monitor and create. I cannot do so with pen and paper. NOthing I have written down ever is used. It is junk. but the typed word sings to me.

My workstation is really a dining room table that I just happen to have in my bedroom. Ok, I am wacky. I have alcove in my bedroom with a window. there is 86 inches of space across the alcover. When I moved here this is where I wanted to write. I found this 84 inch table. It was the right color and style and therefore fits well in the room. Here I sit in my bedroom at my table and type. Yesterday I needed to add a scene or two and so I sat down and typed. I finished 2600 words in just a couple of hours. But had I been out on my deck enjoying some marvelous weather with a pen and paper I guarantee everyone that not a single word would have come to pass.

I have had a love affair with my computer ever since the day we met. My fingers sing across the keyboard churning out its own special rhythm. Can you hear it? tap tap slide tap tap ok this is stupid.

While visiting my mom's this past winter I typed. (I am fortunate to have a mother that lives in sunny Florida and has a pool with her home). Never one to have just one computer (I have three at home) even visiting I had two. My brother set up a laptop for me and I brought my own tower and components. I set up a table in my bedroom there. Sometimes I wonder if I am in training for assisted living what with all this living in my bedroom.

Needless to say, I must have written 50,000 words or more during my winter stay. All in my bedroom. I shared the room with my mom. She would watch old movies and I would type. I fixed the coffee and was happy to bring it to her. She eats a banana every day. I would bring that too. We were happy--her with her old movies and me with the typewriter. There was one problem. I woke up early, she did not. I solved the problem by taking the laptop with its wireless connection and moved to the patio and pool area. This worked well until the sun rose. I suppose I could have just chosen a seat with my back to the sun but I am stupid sometimes. I, instead, draped a breach towel over my head and over the top of the laptop forming a perfect secluded tent. I could read the screen and so I typed away. My mom knows me so she was not shocked or surprised when she caught me outside in such a state. I have always done things a wee bit different. I suppose that is why I have chosen to write my story a wee bit different. A story about men during that era and from their pov.

so when you reach the chapters in London think of me sitting out on the lanai with a towel draped over my head typing away as the world woke up.

me, typing goodbye until tomorrow!

gayle