I love a good pen; I love the heft of them, to roll them in my fingers and to compare how their nib feeds ink into various paper stocks. I also can’t tell you the last time I used one to write anything longer than a phone message.

Upon consideration, it makes sense; most of what I write these days is destined for electronic distribution, whether it be email or blog fodder or professional documents. However, there was a time when I happily filled lined notebooks with my wild ramblings. Maybe there would only be a single worthwhile idea or turn of phrase to pursue – and somehow with my hand trailing across the page as they were set down, I felt somehow connected to them. There’s something more sterile about typing ideas directly into well-formed, consistently-spaced black lettering against the white monitor screen. With their responsive keys, spell-checking and automatic formatting, sometimes it makes things too easy. Even typewriters, with their hard-pressed keys, their clickety-click and turning of the ink cartridge around the spool offers a much more sensational writing experience.

Yes, yes, writing is about the writing, not about the tools…but I do think the tools can make a difference. Computers especially, since they serve so many other purposes. My computer, in addition to being a word processor, also serves as: my gateway to the internet, my television, my organizer, my entertainment center and my main (and preferred) method of contact with the outside world. Staying focused is difficult enough some days; and the natural drive to multi-task when writing on a PC is an additional burden.

This past week, my internet connection and I have been at terrible odds; mostly about connectivity issues. And as I’ve spent hours wrestling with them when I meant to get other things done, I begin to wonder if this marvel of the modern age is not equal parts blessing and curse. At worst my pens sinned by running out of ink; it never took hours of my life away demanding complex (and inconclusive) diagnostics; and the only place it took my attention to was further in my head. Even now, as I write this, I have my modem and router shut-off in order to resist the temptation of quickly checking the weather, my e-mail or browsing the web while I collect my thoughts. And even with all that shut down, I cannot stop myself from browsing past MP3s as they come up on iTunes. I’m doomed.

I’m not sure I can go back to the pen, though. Like my memory, my handwriting (never good) has become lax to near illegibility due to lack of practice. I don’t know which is the better option…to write less hindered and more freely, or to be able to read the fruits of my labor once I’m done.

Hmm…maybe I need one of those digital notepads that translates your handwriting into legible text. That’d be sweet.