Over Easter weekend my mother told me that she’s been doing some of her writing by hand. She’s concerned about all the googly rays messing with her aging brain cells. (Alright, so she didn’t say it exactly like that, but her point is: writing is a hard enough proposition as it is without hypnotizing herself in the process.) I had already been vaguely aware of the pixels-dulling-my-brain problem, but up until last weekend I flicked the bothersome thoughts away, because really, what’s a writer/blogger to do? Write with a pen?

Well, YES, as a matter of fact!

Yesterday, just for kicks, I wrote a letter by hand. It took exactly two rough drafts and one final copy, but when I was done, I stood up feeling refreshed, not woozy-sluggish. And now today, I’m handwriting this post.

Writing by hand is hard! After fifteen minutes of making vigorous chicken scratches, my hand begins to ache (though it’s no worse than the kink I get between my shoulder blades when I sit at the computer). And it’s messy, too. I write up the sides of the margins, draw arrows, and cross things out.

But! To contemplate a clean piece of paper instead of all those wavy pixels is wonderfully refreshing! My eyes feel more relaxed and my feeble concentration is stronger—I’m not forever being interrupted by emails and tweets and new blog posts. (No matter how welcome they are, interruptions are just that—interruptions.)

I’ll be the first to admit I love my computer (my children will second—and third, fourth, and fifth—that; they have pointed out, on more than one occasion, that after them, I love my computer best [I’m relieved to see they know they rank first; I must be doing something right]), and I’m not about to give up my computer any time soon. I’m just thinking and experimenting, that’s all.

Do you ever write by hand anymore? Have you noticed the computer muting your brain, zapping your creative zest, distracting you from intense ponderations? We say computers make us so much more productive, and I believe they probably do, but to what degree? Is it worthwhile productivity or just mindless jibber-jabber? Is this blog mindless jibber-jabber?

Never mind. Don’t answer that last question.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to lay down my pen and go type this up.

About one year ago: Coming of age: a tale of homemade Parmesan.

Last night Mr. Handsome and I ate a tremendous amount of popcorn and grape juice while watching Nacho Libre. If you like Napoleon Dynamite (which we do), then you’ll like this movie—ridiculous, zany, and fun—the perfect movie to watch after a day spent fighting with your spouse (don’t ask).

So … after the movie I hop into bed and read a bit from my book, Leaving Ruin (about as different from Nacho Libre as you can get). Soon Mr. Handsome hops into bed and rudely sticks his nose right up against the pages of my book. (To his credit, without his glasses/contacts, he’s blind as a bat.) My wrist does an involuntary flicky thing and the book whacks Mr. Handsome in the face. He yowls, and then his hand does an involuntary flicky thing and Leaving Ruin sails out of my hands and onto the floor by the bed. I sputter frumpily and then lean waaaay out over the edge, trying to retrieve the book while still staying in my cozy little nest. Mr. Handsome plants his feet on my backside and pushes. I press my hands on the floor to keep my balance. Then, with one hand, I pick up the book and turn to look at Mr. Handsome whose feet are still pushing (yes, it was an awkward position). My book-wielding hand does another involuntary flicky thing and the book takes to the air once again, this time landing with a thunk on Mr. Handsome’s face. He yowls again, this time in real pain, and shoots up out of bed. After a couple minutes, during which I squat on the floor and alternate between shaking uncontrollably with laughter and trying to act sympathetic, he regains composure. There is no blood. But this morning there is a definite red line across the bridge of his nose, stretching from one side to the other.

I’m still chuckling.

About one year ago: Skillet-Blackened Asparagus.