Smooth and creamy paper, a real pen
“The pen was an archaic instrument, seldom used even for signatures, and he had procured one, furtively and with some difficulty, simply because of a feeling that the beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib instead of being scratched with an ink-pencil.” – 1984, George Orwell
Apparently, Winston took his time before finally launching into his diary. So have I.
From time to time, I find myself conducting a sort of inner conversation with myself. Sometimes, the dialog leads to a WhatsApp post. Sometimes, it leads to me talking out loud to myself (known to worry people who hear me). Then sometimes, the conversation ends with me admonishing myself: “You need to write it down, like on that web site you’ve been thinking about for years.”
As much as I love my fountain pens and smooth creamy paper, it’s going to be typewritten. I guess these days, “typewritten” means “written with type” and not “produced with a typewriter.” At least I’m not using a word processor! I’m using a 50 year old text editor invented at UC Berkeley.
Again, Winston:
“For whom, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder, was he writing this diary? … Winston roused himself and sat up straighter. … His eyes re-focused on the page. He discovered that while he sat helplessly musing he had also been writing, as though by automatic action.”
Yes, of course. The first entry in any decent “diary” has to be:
DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER
DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER
DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER