For my analog experiment, I decided to hand-write a letter. While I am, of course, very used to writing by hand, writing a letter is very different from taking notes in a notebook like I do for my classes; moreover, I can safely say that I’ve only written a few letters by hand in my lifetime. I was raised using computers and am much more accustomed to writing in a word processor, which permits me to rearrange and continually modify my writing as I go along. Writing something by hand does not offer that level customizability at all. Prior to starting, I was completely aware of this, and I knew that I this could pose a problem for me, but I wanted to see if I’d be able to adapt my style a little bit to avoid the pages turning into messes of scribbles. Though I tend to use an abundance of carets (these things: “ ‸ ”) when writing on paper, the amount of rearranging and tweaking I to do while drafting is often too much for the slim margins between lines of ruled text to handle. I tried to be more decisive with my word choice, and honestly, it kind of worked, though honestly, I admit it could’ve turned out better.

Setting aside the issue of customizability and versatility during the writing process, something else that I came to realize while hand-writing the letter is that I type so much faster than I write that at times, I was unable to write quickly enough to keep up with the sentences I was thinking up! Several times while writing the letter, I realized that my hand was at least a sentence behind my brain. It was definitely one of the weirder experiences I’ve had as a student, especially as a liberal arts student who writes as much as he does for his classes! I felt lost overwhelmed. That isn’t to say that writing by hand didn’t have its own perks, though.

Pressing my pen into the paper, creating both ink marks and impressions in the surface, is indisputably more satisfying than pushing a seemingly endless series of buttons on my laptop keyboard. I love the cushiony feeling of writing on the top sheet of a pile of paper, plus my handwriting is always neatest when I’m comfortable writing, and I get a (laughably) strong sense of accomplishment when my handwriting at its neatest. Compared to the comfortable surface I wrote by hand on, the hard, angular aluminum shell of my laptop is markedly unforgiving. (This is underscored by the fact that it occasionally causes my wrists to ache.) As I’ve noted above, however, I can write much more quickly and keep up with my thoughts when typing on my laptop, so maybe one could say that it’s a fair tradeoff to be temporarily less comfortable but able bang out my writing faster? I’ve pondered this in the time since I carried out wrote the letter, and I’m still not really sure!

I think that in light of my experience doing this little experiment, I’ll consider writing by hand for shorter forms of correspondence, as well as correspondence with loved ones, because I won’t mind taking the little bit of extra time hand-writing takes. Using analog technology feels more personal because of the fact that it takes longer and is more laborious, and I believe that this means that a handwritten letter communicates love and appreciation better than, say, even the most beautifully written email. The fact that letter writing is becoming increasingly rare also renders the experience of receiving and reading a handwritten letter that much more special. As an object, a letter is so uncommon nowadays that the time and care put into writing one can’t possibly be misconstrued by the person receiving it. Its rarity makes it, potentially, a very powerful way to make a statement.