Day	What	How Much	Pen	Ink
16 December 17 December 18 December 19 December	First Draft of “Uncle Bert’s Best Friend”. Various pre-Yule rushing-about chores.	6 manuscript pages, and done. SO MUCH TO DO!	Sheaffer 8C OMAS Arte Italiana Lamy 2000 Parker Senior Duofold	Edelstein Olivine Pelikan Brilliant Brown Diamine Oxford Blue Waterman blue (vintage)

 

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Day	What	How Much	Duration	Pen	Ink
4 April 5 April 6 April 7 April	First draft of  “Poor Old Michael Finnegan”. Likewise, but with a staggering realization that the point-of-view had been dead wrong. Now with improved POV! First draft of “Finnegan” gives way to first draft of “A Mistake of Timing” (another project with a deadline– 31 July).	Six manuscript pages. The same. What, six AGAIN? Four pages, and then three.	35 min. 40 min.  min. 35 min. 45 min.	Parker 65 Sheaffer 8C Pelikan New Classic Parker Vacumatic	Waterman washable blue Diamine Evergreen Diamine Steel Blue Waterman blue-black (vintage)

No Fish Friday

I’m engaged in something on my other front, but as I don’t want to miss another Film Friday I won’t neglect things here entirely. Here’s some history on the day you loved as a kid:

Today’s pen, without hijinx: Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink, not of the “Vanishing, Reappearing” sort: Diamine Evergreen

Day	What	How Much	Duration	Pen	Ink
21 March 22 March 23 March 24 March	First draft of  “The Loss of Deep Waters”. Conclusion of that first draft, beginning the second of “Wildenklausen”. More second drafting, with some unexpected bonus time late in the day. Thanks, bonus time!  Now it’s done!	Seven manuscript pages. Two pages, then 945 words typed. 2,219 words. A total of 3,606 words.	45 min. 55 min. 100 min. 35 min.	Sheaffer 8C Parker 65 Cross Century II Parker Vacumatic	Diamine Evergreen Waterman washable blue  Quink Black Waterman blue-black (vintage)

Another new development in the past two weeks– I’m writing not merely to get the stories down, but to externally-imposed deadlines.  “Wildenklausen” and “The Loss of Deep Waters” are aimed at two different anthologies, both of which close at the end of April.  This is not a very tight pair of deadlines, admittedly, but it’s a good deal more pressure than what has been my usual practice of getting the thing written briskly but comfortably, for eventual presentation.  I think I’m enjoying it.  Probably.

Day	What	How Much	Duration	Pen	Ink
14 March 15 March 16 March 17 March	First draft of  “Wildenklausen”. Ditto More first drafting. And that’s all for the first draft.	Eight manuscript pages. Six pages. Nine pages. Eight pages.	45 min. 40 min. 50 min. 50 min.	Parker 65 Pilot Vanishing Point Waterman Executive Sheaffer 8C	Waterman washable blue  Waterman blue-black  Herbin Lie de Thé Diamine Evergreen

…and as an addition to this “See?  Writing!” nonsense I’m burdening you with–

Stories Submitted This Week: 6 (!)

Blues for Red

(Please imagine today’s entry is presented by Mississippi Gary; as authentic a blues shouter as I am)

The vile minx!

I thought I’d paid my dues

I know not to use glues

But this pen of two hues

Gives me the Red Ripple Blues.

I grip it, I heat it, but I can’t defeat it,

It just won’t let that section go!

I know I can’t soak it, don’t want to say “I broke it,”

So all I got is my woe.

It’s a nothing little job, not worth all this stink,

But I’m stopped in my track by a little bit of ink,

I am driven nearer to drink!

There ain’t nothin’ to do,

Just keep trying ’til I’m through,

I got a big bad case of those mean ol’ Waterman Red Ripple Blues!

*  *  *

Context: The problem, you see, it twofold.  Red ripples have a reputation for more than usual fragility (any colour other than black, among hard rubbers, is somewhat flimsy).  You must not soak hard rubber of any hue, lest discolouration occur.  Thus, when presented with a red ripple 52 whose section is cemented in place by what may be a whole bottle of blue ink, getting into the pen becomes a bit of a challenge.  So far, the action has been to dip to the joint in rather cold water and wipe immediately, which has been successful in getting vast amounts of blue out of that little friction-fit space, followed after 15 or 20 repetitions with heating and careful tugging.  So far its a stale mate; the pen is not reduced to its component parts, but it is also not reduced to fragments.  The battle continues.

…and I never claimed to be poet not song-writer, so you may take your scansion complaints elsewhere.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink: Jentle blue-black

 

Pens for Education

I’m on even more limited time constraints than usual today, so rather than my usual ramble, I will offer a rather more worthy alternative.  If you nip over to Newton Pens, you can read the proprietor’s commitment to apply the profits of his operation to the education of youngsters with good habits but poor prospects.  Having read, you may then perhaps consider the ordering of a pen.

Today’s pen:  Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink: Diamine Majestic Blue

Stand By that Switch, Ygor!

Today’s pen has me thinking about parts.  The notion of a “frankenpen” is very common amongst the vintage pen fanciers.  While there are some pens from which the vital spark cannot be returned, it is a good deal easier to revitalize them than it is a human.  The pen I’m using right now is made of parts from at least three other pens, spanning at least a decade of production, and it’s this that has me thinking.

If I were to go and stitch myself up a homunculus out of professional sports players (I understand hockey players may be surplus to needs for the next little while), whether or not my bumbling half-wit assistant got the brain of a criminal lunatic for it or not, I think there’s little doubt that people would notice that it was not quite right.  Today’s pen, though, does not provoke villagers to flee for the pitchfork and torch repository; except to an uncommonly knowing eye, it looks like what I call it.  Indeed, I’m comfortably certain that the parts all come from the same model, just different years.

Where, then, is the cut-off?  Is it right to call the ink-filled pastiche in my pocket a frankenpen, or is it short of cut-off?  I’ve another Sheaffer from the Balance era, whose point and body are at odds with one another; the price code on the barrel indicates the next step up the model ladder from the point.  And yet, from the degree of patination, it’s clearly been in there for a long time.  Frankenpen, right?  Sort of?  How about the various Parker “51”s I’ve owned, all but one of which have had several years between the date codes on point and barrel?

There is also the question of at what point making a frankenpen becomes culpable, when the villager’s recourse is not only appropriate but almost a moral obligation.  A Waterman Commando with the cap off a Sheaffer Imperial crammed down onto it.  A wretched chimera composed of parts from four different makers’ pens, with the finishing horror of a dip pen crushed into the section.  Dr. Frankenstein fled in terror and revulsion from his creation, and if it had not been merely somewhat malformed (or, as the book appears to have it, just slightly distasteful in complexion and hair texture), but had been made from a condemned criminal, a ballerina, a hairless cat, and the wrong end of an armadillo, he would have been entirely justified.  I won’t hold up a hand and say, “Never!” but I’m certainly intent on making sure that the parts actually belong in the same frame, even if they might not be quite contemporary.

The last thing I need is to be trapped in a burning windmill by the wretched creatures of my own creation… although now that I think about it, even sticking to all-original parts, I might occasionally touch on the error of Herbert West.  Uh oh.

Today’s pen (has never thrown a tiny German girl into a pond):  Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink (the use of which probably doesn’t offend the heavens): Diamine Majestic Blue

Cleanup

Being tired out after the preceding long squawk (rather like a Norwegian Blue parrot), I have little to contribute today.  I will merely mention that I spent a few minutes this morning catching up on pen cleaning, and I go from an embarrassing pile of pens filled with ink (due to loaners filled for the letter writing extravaganza last week) to possibly the fewest I’ve had in a year.  I even cleaned out the TWSBIs that have become something of my household standby pen.  From this latter action a learn three things…

…about me:  I may have the pens in current use ready to go, but not having the reserve pen lurking about makes me nervous for no accountable reason.

…about an ink:  Having at last run through the Herbin 1670 that I filled the Diamond 530 with in the fall (a donation from a friend who’d bought a bottle), I can confirm that it is as hard to clean out of a pen as everyone’s been saying.  Two liters of water rendered bright red, and another two made a remarkably bright pink, and then I had to run the section in the ultrasonic tub.  That’s a persistent ink.

…about a pen:  Two things, actually.  A TWSBI’s seals are sound enough to keep ink in good shape for months (see previous), and the plastic is gratifyingly resistant to staining.  It may have taken a lot of water, but I am left with a clear pen rather than a slightly pink one.  Hooray!

Today’s pen: Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink: Pelikan 4001 Brilliant Black

 

Speaking of Delayed Gratification…

I find that the contemplation I’ve undertaken today is running past the end of lunch break.  Rather than clumsily tie it up regardless (my default), I’m going to finish it tomorrow.  Keep your expectations low, though; quantity is not quality, no matter what the ads on TV insist.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer 8C
Today’s ink: Pelikan 4001 Brilliant Black (seriously.  That’s what is says on the label)