The best writing tool out there.
I can feel my notebooks glaring at me as I tip tap away on my phone. They’re criticizing me for not being “authentic” to the writing experience of putting pen to paper.
I can feel my notebooks glaring at me as I tip tap away on my phone. They’re criticizing me for not being “authentic” to the writing experience of putting pen to paper.
The truth is notebooks and laptops, the standard writer’s tools, have been causing me serious anxiety since early in the pandemic. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or lack of stimulation, but staring at a blank page, or screen, only encourages my inner critic to lob an all out attack on my confidence.
Switching to my phone not only lowered the pressure. It increased the creative flow.
Inevitably I pick up my phone because I still had things to say and needed a vessel to hold those thoughts. Nobody was more surprised than I to discover my creative voice flows through my thumbs, apparently. In that low-stakes format, I’d been able to convince myself that typing on a phone was not “writing.” My phone didn’t judge me like the blank page or screen. It was receptive.
I know a phone is an inanimate object with no agenda.
But go with me here. My phone was not built to be a “writers tool.” It has no pretense about being the holy grail for writers (ahem, I’m looking at you Scrivener). It holds no preconceived notions about improving my writing speed or quality. Not to mention the practicality of its size and portability. To be honest, even a notebook demands that I search for a pen and an empty page. That being said, I can’t help but feel guilty using my phone instead of a blank page — digital or otherwise.
Evidently I have some shame around using a phone as my primary writing tool.
My notebooks began gathering dust (literally). The laptop was relegated to a Netflix viewing apparatus, that sometimes doubled as a bill paying machine and, on rare occasion, an editing device. When it was asked, in a rare moment of solitude, to contain my thoughts, I balked at the blank page. It was just so much bigger than the screen on my phone! How could I possibly have anything worthwhile to say?
The longer I was away from my laptop and notebooks, the bigger my anxiety grew about losing my ability to write.
So for now I’ll hide behind my phone screen. It’s gotten me back into writing, and for that I’m grateful. It feels awkward and clunky, but at least it’s something. Maybe the notes app on my phone isn’t the best rated writers tools, or the hottest writing app. Maybe it’s not the popular image of what a writer should use. I don’t care any more. I’m just grateful to have discovered the best writing tool for me, in this strange pandemic moment.
Our creative processes, just like every process in life, changes over time. It’s our job to recognize that transition and adapt so we can move forward with self-acceptance and -compassion.
Someday my laptop and I will come back together as writing friends. We’ll rediscover that creative connection. I’m hoping the same is true for my notebooks. But for now, we will go our separate ways, grateful for our time together, and hopeful for our future.
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