I was nine years old when I wrote a letter to a young Elvis Presley, telling him how much I loved him and his music.
Luckily, my mother never sent that letter, and I recently found it in a box of her things. As I was reading what I penned back in 1957, what struck me was not my puppy love for the King, but my cursive handwriting.
In 1977, I met Tom Lippert, a ski instructor and freelance photographer in Truckee, and we married that year. I became a freelance writer and worked on projects for many magazines, local and national. Whether writing stories about hiking or skiing or flying (after I became a pilot), illustrated by Tom’s photographs, it felt natural to write longhand about beautiful places to visit and the wonderful people I met.
Every story that I wrote was handwritten before I typed it to send to the editor, via postal service or later by email.
I always began by writing on paper, as it gave me time to open my mind to my experiences, my thoughts, my memories, and any ideas that may be interesting to others. Unlike typing on a keyboard, my cursive letters connected me to my words.
Yes, it’s “old-style” now, but I will always love paper and pens and be grateful for a hand that is still able to write. I believe that sitting down, breathing deeply and putting thoughts and ideas on paper is a magical thing. Ideas flow from our brains, into our arms and through our fingertips. Even 40 years after my first story was published in a national magazine, I can’t imagine not creating with pen on paper.
It’s also personal. When on the computer, I feel like others can access what I write and “correct” it or “add” to it, taking away from my role as the writer. I would argue that in her own distinctive handwriting, only the writer knows exactly what she wants to write. I think we forget that every handwritten piece is unique to that person. Versus the ubiquitous Times New Roman or Arial, like snowflakes, no two human scripts are the same.
*
When I look through my grandma Betsey’s writings, I am moved by her handwritten record of the history of our Norwegian heritage that dates back to the 1600s.
Betsey was born in 1893 in Norway and came to the U.S. when she was twenty years old. Her handwriting is beautiful and has definite historical value. If her writing had been done on a typewriter or on a computer, it wouldn’t feel like Betsey. Knowing that her writing is exclusively hers makes me care more about it.
I also have my mother’s journals and notes from the 1950s. Yes, it’s possible that today’s young children may never see any handwritten history from their parents or even their grandparents — stories about their experiences, their challenges, and their ultimate accomplishments.
*
Through handwriting, I have kept track of the last 57 years of my life. You could read and feel what I was doing when I moved to Boston after graduating from Eastern Michigan University in 1968, or what I did in San Francisco for seven years before moving to Truckee. Typing out my life would not have been the same.
The sensation we get in our hands, by using them to write with a pen or pencil, feels real, unlike that on a keyboard. It is a sensation that activates our brain and is natural, like the beautiful surroundings that we live in. It is nature’s blessing to write by hand while we enjoy our physical world around us. Like snow falling, writing builds slowly.
A neuroscientist at UC Merced says that writing by hand has “important cognitive benefits.” Other neuroscientists agree.
If I were the editor of a publication these days, printed or online, I might wonder if what I received from one of my contributing writers was generated by a computer source. Could editors tell if the writing was mine? If I were submitting a story to an editor these days, like I am right now, I would be proud and thankful knowing it came from me, not AI.
So might Emma Thompson.
In a recent interview with late-night host Stephen Colbert, the British actress and writer, said, “I write longhand on a pad because I believe there is a connection between the brain and the hands.” When asked about AI, Thompson “exploded,” recalling the moment when it asked her, “Would you like me to rewrite [your words] for you?”
That’s why I am glad that all the stories and the two books I have written and had published are mine — from my brain, my heart, and my hands. I felt them with every handwritten word upon every handwritten page.
*
Recently, I chatted with Rolando, a Raley’s employee, and he told me that his 14-year-old son cannot read or write cursive. Apparently, many schools no longer teach cursive. Though I can’t imagine it, I suppose that is what’s going on.
If Elvis were still alive, I would send him a copy of my letter, written by a little girl who has never forgotten his moves or his music, to this day. When I read my letter now and see my cursive handwriting, I still feel emotional about expressing my deep feelings at age nine.
So, to close, I’ll say, keep writing by hand and please support those paper-and-pen manufacturers to whom we should be grateful.
And, hey, Moonshine Ink, how about printing a story in cursive someday?
