I used to have nice handwriting...I mean like in junior high. Now, when I'm not near the computer, I write huge sections of my book on cheap ugly yellow pads of paper, and I can barely make out what I've written. I fear that if I don't write quickly, the thoughts will fly out of my head, and sometimes they do anyway.
I wish I had the handwriting of a 1917 social secretary- long rounded fancy cursive in flowing fountain pen on posh cream paper. I just realized I would be embarassed to show my low-class scribbles to a writer's group. I know very well no one gives a rat's ass about my handwriting, it's about the quality of the writing, blah blah, but still. It's like wearing a yellow off-the-rack purple cocktail dress on your wedding day. Everyone says to your face that it's "unique" and "edgy", but if we insert these words into my handy-dandy social translator, what they really mean is "tacky" and "laaaaaame".
I am envisioning new large soft leather notebooks and a quill pen a la John Hancock. Well not really a quill pen, more like one of those thin brown calligraphy markers from Michael's craft store, but whatever.
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