For many of us, computers become extensions of our lives—diaries and reflections of our work and interests, friends and communications—all the little details that consume us, from weather.com to the half-written poem we’ve been struggling for over a year to finish . We invest so much of ourselves in these little machines, which is both good and bad.
I, for one, need a computer. Sure, the stories come from my head—and you’d think I’d be able to write just as well on paper—but typing draws words out of me much more easily than using a pen.
I like the sound that keys make. I like the feeling under my fingers. I think I might even enjoy the act of typing itself. Feels like a dance sometimes, when I really get going. I don’t have to think about where the letters are. My body knows, instinctively—so that all I have to do is think, and the words practically appear on the page with no physical effort whatsoever. I remember playing the piano the same way. You practice a piece long enough, all you have to do is feel it. Your body does the rest.
So, I’m curious. When you write, what’s your method? How does it feel, physically?