“The pen is like the needle of a record player held in one’s hand,” Donald Jackson, calligrapher, and scribe to the Late Elizabeth II, once observed. “As it moves across the paper, it releases the music of our innermost selves.”
Wow. I just love that. Sadly if Mr Jackson saw my handwriting he would accurately surmise that I am permanently scattered.
Mahatma Gandhi declared that a poor hand is “the sign of an imperfect education.” But mine leans more towards P.G. Wodehouse who said his, “resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an inkpot, and subsequently taken a little brisk exercise.”
Computer keyboards ruined everything for me.
I had the most perfect handwriting. As a Brit we were not trained to write “cursive” which I think is an American form of script. Here is an excerpt from my Home Economics book circa 1969 – please note the hilarious and dated content.

In 1977 I trained as a “shorthand typist” before Dictaphones were invented. In the UK the shorthand was Pitman shorthand; – in the USA it was “Gregg,” although there are many other forms like Teeline or Fastnotes. I could boast 125 wpm (words-per-minute). I loved it. Here is an example of Pitman shorthand taken from “The Lerner’s Shorthand Reader” circa 1892 and priced at 6d.

Isn’t it pretty? If you’d like me to transcribe, I will …
I could “touch type” i.e. there were no letters on the keyboard so I would type the copy without looking at my hands (for those youngsters out there who have never heard the expression). There was also something immensely satisfying about coming to the end of the line and pushing the lever of the carriage return to be rewarded with a cheerful ting!
With the advent of computers, my typing has speeded up dramatically (I just did a free test) and it’s 75 wpm. There is no way my handwriting now could keep up with my brain. Unfortunately, I can hardly hold a pen let alone write with one.
But let’s not forget the reality of handwriting of centuries past. It’s tempting to think that 19th century penmanship was beautiful and legible. This was not the case. Paper, ink, and postage was expensive. People wrote as small as they could. Anne Brontë’s famous final letter had the lines criss-crossing each other. So even if 21st century handwriting has deteriorated, in the big scheme of things, that’s nothing new. Sadly, a recent survey found that in the past five years, 12% of Britons have written nothing at all – not even a note. With the demise of the check book here in the UK, signatures are barely needed either. Some people don’t even have a PEN!!! I was at the post office recently using my USA credit card which demanded a signature to find that I was the only person in the store who carried a pen!
“When you type on a screen, the words seem as fleeting as rays of light. When you write, there’s a real physicality to it that adds another dimension to how you experience your own writing. It fosters a deeper engagement with the material you write, makes the writing voice inside your head clearer and louder.” Quote from Omwow blog, https://omwow.com/longhand-writing/
I love that expression “words seem as fleeting as rays of light.”
Handwriting is deliberate and intentional and requires focused attention. It encourages us to be fully present in the moment. Neat and well-formed handwriting can also indicate a level of discipline and organization. It’s also lovely to receive a handwritten note. It feels personal because it is personal. Someone has taken the time to write and not just zip off an email.
In the meantime, I’m just grateful that my appalling handwriting doesn’t get me into the following kind of trouble:
In 1636 an employee of the East India Company in London wrote to a colleague in India asking that he ‘send me by the next ship 2 or 3 apes.’ Unfortunately – his letter ‘r’ in the word OR caused some confusion. As a result, he received 80 monkeys, together with a note saying that the remaining 123 would be with him shortly.
What about your handwriting? Please share and shame mine.

I don’t see joy, or serenity, or even concern in his face. Only resignation. I’d recognized the Charles Bridge in the background so I knew this had been taken in Prague, but based on the other photographs, I had no doubt the location fell behind the Iron Curtain.























One of them is CRY WOLF, the second Alaska Untamed Mystery that I’m writing for Crooked Lane Books under my first pseudonym, Lark O. Jensen. I’m going to let the world know about it in a variety of ways, including additional blogs and a chat at Writerspace. I’m being interviewed by some people online. And I’m doing a Great Escapes Blog Tour, also online.
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