Rhodia Paper Project: Weeks 1-5

The fine folks at Exaclair, Inc. are the US importers of Rhodia paper products, and being the slavering fanboy that I am, I was very pleased to see them running the "Rhodia Paper Project" from their blog, whereby other fanboys/fangirls could sign up to get samples of their various products mailed to them on a weekly basis to test out, in return for comments and feedback.

This had the back luck to happen just before NaNoWriMo kicked off this year, and although I've been diligent about signing up each week via Rhodia Drive, I've been pretty slack about testing or commenting, because, you know, noveling. I'm digging out after my win now, and am making up for lost time...

Week 1: Your choice of grid

The contenders:

• Rhodia Ice: white/grey/graph
• Rhodia 80th Anniversary ivory/grey/graph
• Rhodia Classic white/blue/graph

We start off by trying out the various forms of grid colors. I personally like using graph-style paper if it's available, especially for note-taking and NaNo plotting since I have terribly slop handwriting, and tend to drift all over without guidelines. I've got some notebooks old enough to have bluish grids, which I think Rhoida has since replaced with a violet ink (more eco-friendly sources, I gather.) My go-to ink color is blue for just about everything -- easy to tell when it's been photocopied -- so this week was about testing which ink I liked best against the three different grids and the paper colors.

I was predisposed not to like the ivory paper, which seemed a little faded or even dirty compared to the clean white of the other two. Maybe it's the grid talking, but it seems like the grid shouts "professional and serious" and the ivory paper says "quaint drawing room." I am also surrounded by white office paper all day, and use it in my meeting notebooks, so again, bias.

• Rhodia Ice: white/grey/graph 

This was my favorite of the three samples, by far. The gray grid is very light on the paper, clear enough to see, but not clashing with any of the inks or pencils that I tried on it. The paper is the lighter of the two weights supplied (90g vs. 80g) but this is not paper you're going to send letters on, most likely. The grid says "serious" to me, and would be appropriate in a lab or classroom.

• Rhodia 80th Anniversary ivory/grey/graph

My least favorite sample of the three, though the grid is subtle, and against the ivory paper, looks almost brown. I can't get past the color for this application, though. Clearly this is a personal moral shortcoming.

• Rhodia Classic white/blue/graph

Second choice, and the one I already own in different sizes. In comparison to the "Ice" product, the lines are very visible, and especially when using blue ink -- the grid tends to clash more with my writing instead of fading invisibly into the background like the gray.

Week 2: Take a letter

The contenders: 

• Clairefontaine Graf It
• G Lalo Stationery (white)
• Clairefontaine Triomphe

The second week is all about stationery, so the samples are unlined and plain. This is what you write your post-holiday thank-you notes on, and in that context, everything I said above pretty much goes out the window here. There really is a time-and-place for various papers, something I've not given much thought to before.

• Clairefontaine Graf It 

Plain white, and with a slight, subtle texture on the surface. This is nice stuff, 90g, and was grippy enough to use pencil -- some of the regular Rhodia paper has a slickness that's welcome with fountain pens but disconcerting with a pencil. You need a little friction, and this has it. It reminds me very much of the bagasse (sugarcane waste) paper that I use for NaNo typing, with a little toothiness, but heavier than cheap old office paper. I would not be sad to own a pad of this with some ostentatious monogram in the corner.

• G Lalo Stationery (white) 

Though this says "white," compared to the other two samples, it's a very light cream color. It has visible horizontal texture lines to it, and a subtle vertical line (watermark?) every 3cm. I was predisposed to dislike this entirely, expecting it to be grabby, toothy, and hard to use with my preferred pens. I'm pleased to say that I'm wrong on all fronts. Pencil behaves nicely even when writing lightly, and fountain pens give just the right amount of feedback. This is languid, letter-writing paper, and the color for this application is perfect. The clear winner.

• Clairefontaine Triomphe

Of the three, my least favorite, though it's like trying to choose amount three very-good things. The same weight as the Graf It, but utterly smooth, like Rhodia pads, and as such, badly-behaved with pencils. Fountain pens skate all over the surface as expected, and the gel rollerballs I was testing with were so quick it felt like driving on ice. I would not say no to this if it were foisted on me in a dark alley, for sure, but if you're going to do correspondence, treat yourself and the recipient to one of the other two.

Week 3: The journal selection

The contenders:  

• 5×8 Webnotepad Lined, (same as Webbie paper)
• 6×8 Lined R
• 6×8 Lined Rhodia 80g 

Week three is what I think of as the "journal selection." It's an odd size paper for my own needs, which tend toward the letter-size or A4 notebooks. These are all lined, with big broad spaces. Lots of room for inmost thoughts, I suppose. I don not have a rich inner life that requires documenting.

• 5×8 Webnotepad Lined
• 6×8 Lined R

 A tie this week, and mainly because the difference falls between if you want a little extra width as in the "R" pad, or rounded bottom corners as in the "Webnotepad." The "R" is top-perforated, like many of their notebooks, so it's entirely possible this is meant for less permanent writing. The other is not perforated -- the sample has clearly been torn out of a pad -- and if you're keeping a journal, that seems like it would be of more use to you. I have an unlined Webbie that accompanies me to back-to-school nights, kids' sport meetings, and other real-life/non-work situations where I need to jot down notes and numbers, and don't want to lose them. Both pages are 90g ivory, with the grey lines, and again, for this use, I can see it being superior to the white-with-blue.

• 6×8 Lined Rhodia 80g 

Another choose-among-very-good-things, but this has a large red margin rule down the left side -- "large" here meaning 1 1/2" of space, which is a quarter of the page width. This feels really wide, and if you're even the tiniest bit OCD (ahem) it may bother you that so much "good" paper is going to waste over there, especially if you grew up with the cheap filler paper and spiral notebooks like I did, with the margin line dancing dangerously close to the holes punched in the paper.

Week 4: Colorful students

The contenders: 

• 1 sheet of the 8×11″ Clairefontaine Pastel Graph paper
• 1 3×5″ Exacompta Pastel Index Card

There are times when I regret not being a student again, because I've since learned quite a bit about note taking, organization, and the excitement of a well-stocked university bookstore. Then a come to my senses and remember the terrible food, crushing debt, and general lack of sleep, and am glad I'm gainfully employed instead. This week isn't so much a comparison as just a taste of products that I would totally send to student-version-me, once I get that time machine worked up.

• 8×11″ Clairefontaine Pastel Graph paper

Normally I could give a pass on pastel paper, but this is pressing all my organization-nerd buttons: bound in a spiral notebook with perforations for easy removal. Heavy 90g paper with a grid on both sides. My sample was a light blue sheet, and the normal Rhodia purple grid looks fine against it. There's an index tab cut out of the side for indexing the notes, and I'm guessing this comes in a multi-subject notebook offering many sections of different colors. The grid is ideal for math formulas and structured notes. I wish I would have used graph paper all through my computing classes.

• 1 3×5″ Exacompta Pastel Index Card 

Actually, two in my envelope: one green, and one yellow. Unlike cheapo index cards, the grid is on both sides, they are heavy paper (205g), and of course, pen-friendly. I used index cards to remember (i.e., cram) everything before exams. Past-student me would have certainly matched up the cards to the notebook colors, just because.

Week 5: Size does matter

The contenders: 

• No. 8, (3 x 8 ¼”)
• No. 10 (2 x 3″)
• No.16 (6 x 8 ¼ “)
• No. 19 (8 ¼ x 12 ½ “)

The best thing about Rhodia products -- aside from general pen-compatibility -- is that there's a size for every purpose. The worst things about Rhodia products is that there's a size for every purpose. The choice alone can be overwhelming, and in those rare cases when I am in a retail store that actually sells them, just spinning through the rack gets me a little dizzy... as in I could totally buy ten of these and use them for... I don't know what...

Like the previous week, these don't lend themselves to being compared with one another. They are all lined in violet on 80g white paper. The largest sizes have the same wide margin, and all are top-perforated.

• No. 8, (3 x 8 ¼”) 

If you don't have a ruler handy, think "bookmark size" or "shopping list size." I own a gridded variant of this, and I use it for both purposes. It's just wide enough to get a decent list written down, and plenty long for use as a notes/bookmark. Consider using one to keep characters straight in your next Russian novel.

• No. 10 (2 x 3″)

Almost comically small, just a little larger than half a business card. Small enough that you could keep one each in your pocket, bag, car, desk, stuck to the fridge on a magnet, glued to the dog, etc.. The lines are pretty well spaced apart given the amount of paper you're looking at here. Maybe for composing tweets offline? I struggle to find a use for this, other than as the ultimate tiny notebook when you need to jot down some critical fact, like, to pick a random example out of the air, the name of a piece you heard on the car radio, forgot, and then have spent a decade trying to remember. Just for example.

• No.16 (6 x 8 ¼ “) 

See Week 3 for thoughts on this size. Tucked in with other lined samples, I can see this being most useful as the by-the-phone doodle and message pad, maybe the tote-to-a-meeting pad where you don't want to commit to actually taking a large number of notes, but don't want to get in trouble for staring at your phone the whole time, either. I personally find this size just a little too small for my writing needs at work, and too big to carry around casually.

• No. 19 (8 ¼ x 12 ½ “) 

Ah, now we're talking. This is A4 sized, a little narrower and a little longer than a US Letter size, and the one I'm used to for my own meeting notes (I'm working through a backlog of old Black n' Red A4 notebooks.) The left margin is just as wide, almost wanton, but at least in the larger format, it can be used to call out points of interest: flagging to-do items is an obvious use case for me. I do like bringing paper to meetings, and having a whole year's worth of meeting notes in one place has proven invaluable to me, since I can flip back and reference old notes. The Rhodia is in a top-bound orientation, though -- like a legal pad -- and that I would find less useful than the spiral-bound books I use now. Of the four samples, though, this one has the most utility for me, and I could get past the top-binding pretty quick. I suspect the paper would hold up to disc binding very well if I needed to make an archive notebook. A future sample is slated to include their "meeting book" paper, which looks to be just about perfect. I think I'm ready to graduate beyond the simple lined-only books in the (sigh) five years when the Black n' Reds run out. Or sooner, if they meet an "accident."

Onegin Off Again

Eugene the typopigeon is winging his way to his next destination: stay turned for his further adventures.

A little birdy says that he's wanted and welcomed in Australia. Perhaps a trip across the Pacific is in his near future? Can one kickstart-fund a pigeon delivery? How does one begin to declare this sort of thing on a customs form ("Contents: One well-traveled squab, plastic. Charming.")

Mr. Adney Flips Me the Bird

After a circuitous route from Magic Margin HQ the infamous bird has arrived at last. I cannot begin to tell you the joy that the arrival of this creature has brought to my home, not to mention the many postal workers who sped it on its way, and the lucky driver who wedged it in our curbside mailbox. No worse the wear for his travels, I need to now extract him from his shell of packing tape to reveal the letter beneath. I have to confess that I didn't expect him to arrive au naturale. Hardworking hands at Clickthing Industries are already engaged, planning accessories.

Stay tuned for the NorCal adventures of Eugene Onegin, though I expect this savvy typo-traveler may adopt an alias during his visit. I suggested "Hunter Peck," which got me booed and shooed out of the kitchen. I can't imagine why.

Paperlympics: Opening Ceremonies

For best effect, play while reading...

When I saw the post last month on Rhodia Drive about the chance to test-drive a pair of their writing pads -- one with yellow, one with white paper -- I was perhaps a tiny bit interested.  I already have a professed love for the bright orange brand, having been turned on to its magical ink-friendly properties by the enablers at Fountain Pen Network. And I know the generosity of their marketing department with samples, so of course I threw the Clickthing hat in the ring, and then waited (im)patiently for a confirmation email, and ultimately a package from Exaclair. The package arrived yesterday, and I am not disappoint, as the kids say.[1]


Two A4 tablets, 80 pages each... oooh, be still, my paper-lovin' heart

You can go back and read the original post, but the upshot of this trial is: the yellow paper is "toothier" than the white. It's already been confirmed by Stephanie at Rhodia Drive, but this offer is to try it out with other writing instruments, and then report back to Exaclair/Rhodia HQ. As I love me a paper test, I of course set to gathering the competitors in what I'm modestly calling:

The Paperlympic Games of 2014

I agreed to test them out with pens, and test them I shall. And since I'm curious, I also want to try them out with whatever pencils I have here or could scrounge from the office supply room at work. You can see them in their parade formation as they entered the stadium, but we caught them in a more relaxed moment back in the athlete dormitories.

The Athletes

The competitors, in a moment of repose

Like Sochi, there are some small issues of comfort that need to be sorted out, but generally everyone is happy. From left to right, the competitors are:

• Representing the Czech Republic: the Moleskine brand 2B hipster pencil
• Representing probably China: the Sanford Clickster 0.5mm mechanical pencil
• Laying crosswise, another China entrant: the Dixon Ticonderoga 2HB woodcase pencil
• From the United States of America, a late-80s vintage Sheaffer school pen, F nib with period Skrip jet black ink
• Representing Germany, the Lamy Safari, F nib with Lamy blue ink
• Also from Germany, a Pelikan m205, M nib with Waterman Serenity Blue ink from France
• From, um, Levengerland, a True Writer demonstrator, M nib with modern Sheaffer Skrip blue/black from Slovenia
• From Japan, a Pilot Knight with a M italic nib from a Plumix pen, inked with Pilot/Namiki blue/black

Let's have a round of applause for them, everyone!

The Field of Competition

For the qualifying round, athletes will go head-to-head on these carefully-manicured surfaces.


All markings follow IPC guidelines

On the surface -- ha! -- this paper appears to be the same. Both are 80g/m² "High Grade Vellum Paper," both lined with margins. Both feature heavy foldover covers and a stiffish piece of cardboard affixed in the back to provide support for writing. Both are staple-bound with a fine perforation along the top edge to enable easy removal. Both feature Rhodia's purple lines with a red margin, though the lines appear darker on the yellow paper, and a bit brown, likely thanks to the color contrast.

Identical but for paper color, yes? Well, that's what we're here to find out.

For more, let's go over to the field where our on-the-scene reporters are standing by with some insightful color commentary.


This does not bode well

Roo: Too right! It's as pale as a wallaby's bumhole! [2] Crikey! Uluru!

Rhino: O HAI I SEE YELLO

...

Annnnnnnnnd with that, we'll go back to the studio.

The Judging

This one's a little tough, since I'm coming in with a bias; I know that I'm expecting the yellow pad to be a little scratchier with a pencil, so I'm mainly looking for other differences in feel between the two surfaces with the different instruments. It'll be as scientific and impartial as a blog post can be -- that is to say, it'll be chock full of baseless opinions [3] in which accidental facts may unintentionally appear.

I'm going to use each of these for the next week or so, and write up my opinions-carefully-phrased-as-facts, share them with Exaclair, and you lucky readers. Both of you.

But it doesn't stop there! In the interest of true fairness, and to explore the whole notion of blind studies and the scientific method, there is a second, longer portion to the Paperlympics. Just as the real Olympic games feature countless variants on "two people ice skating together" [4] so, too, does the full-blown Paperlympics finals have an excruciating number of nearly-identical events.

I've prepared a number of samples of paper, in which the Rhodia is secretly mixed, for my daughter and I to test out at home. In this way, we'll be putting it not only through the paces of the paper-obsessed office worker, but also the rigors of the typical tweenage homeschooler. And we'll be turning it into something of a science lesson, too, by checking properties, assigning scores, and in the end, looking at the samples under a microscope (because science.) She doesn't know which sample is which, so I'm hoping to eliminate at least a shade of bias. I will attempt to refrain from comments like "this next one is TOTALLY AWESOME AND FREE so score it accordingly, won't you?"

But first, we need to get through the early rounds of this fine, traditional, just-made-it-up-last-week sport. If you're anything like me, you just want to skip ahead to the finals and see if there's any spectacular crashes. Be patient! I'm sure with me at the helm, disaster cannot be too far behind.

So, sports paper fans, stay tuned! We'll be back with results after this commercial break.

---

[1] No kids actually say this.

[2] No Australians actually say this.

[3] Opinions, it is said, are like bumholes. Everyone has one, and you should keep yours private. Especially if you're a wallaby.

[4] All of which are shown on evening TV at the expense of any other events, not that I'm still bitter, NBC-I'm-looking-at-you. Thank goodness for DVRs and/or perfectly legal streaming.

Yellow Fellow

Although this week was pretty rocky, it ended on a high note.



After over-analyzing things on the pen front, I went ahead and picked up a Safari, to use up the stockpile of cartridges I have around. The Pilot carts are impossible to find around here, so they will resurrect my existing steel Pilot pen when I need a businesslike pen at hand.

The Waterman ink is evidently the renaming of their old "Florida Blue" color. Safe for vintage pens like the new green fellow sitting in the pen box, waiting for me to schedule a new sac-and-shellac surgery.

The real treat, though, is in the box. Is anyone else reminded of a comb feed? Those slits are pretty stylish in a contemporary-design way. Plus, it lets you peek inside...



"Sedate" is not a word I'd use to describe the Safari. Having grown up with Lego and still having *cough* a few bins of the stuff in our shed for the kids *cough cough* I actually like the primary colors and the ABS plastic shell. There's no mistaking that this is an inexpensive writing instrument, but that doesn't mean it's cheap. Little touches like the molded grip section and that chunky clip mean this is a pen meant to be used by little hands and big, and taken out in the world, not left on a shelf.

The cutout window is a nice solution to the problem of seeing how much ink is left, and the cartridges are generously sized, to say the least. I opted for the fine-sized nib here, since this will probably be a knocking-around, toss-in-the-pocket pen, and need to be miserly with the ink. A little testing shows it to be a "wet" writer, not scratchy. I'm looking forward to putting it in rotation, and since it's plastic, it can happily live in the flower frog/pen holder on my desk where it's close at hand.

Speaking of yellow, and re-purposed pen storage, this brainstorm hit me at the thrift store:



It's supposed to be a tray for making ice cubes for your water bottles -- narrow, to fit in the neck, you see. The perfect size for pens, though. It's currently modeling my assortment of cheapo Sheaffer calligraphy pens, the steel Pilot, and that red no-name one that decided to take regular ink-poos on my fingers. It's being punished.

Next time: flirting with tetanus!

His Nibs

Life for the past five days or so has been a whirlwind as my older child and wife both came down with a nasty respiratory flu, leaving me ostensibly in charge of meals, laundry, homeschooling, and also juggling work and starting our youth team's track practice. I've lost a few days in there, but as my beloved is slowly getting back to health -- and the youngest child spikes a fever, sigh -- I'm getting my head up again, and going "Holy crap, it's February already" and "it's ITAM, I should type something."

Today was my first day back in the office after that unexpected bout of home-care, and while I try to fend off the coughing from my coworkers* I made the pen decision that got postponed. The final purchase was... a Pelikan M205! As much as I covet the vanishing point, I realized that I'd be sad if I didn't check out a pen that's so highly praised, that requires no fuss to refill, and is designed to be modular -- don't like the nib? Unscrew it an pop in a new one. That's pretty awesome.

It should be here in a week or so, and I had enough left over to pick up a Safari, too. Also highly praised, it meets my criteria for being durable, carryable, and not so precious that I'll freak out if it's dropped (cough Speegle cough.) Also, when our local Borders books was on the verge of closing down, they had about a few boxes of Lamy cartridges in a clearance bin that have been waiting patiently for a pen to juice up. I'm just as excited about this as the Pel, honestly.

Finally, when I managed to get the household stabilized enough this weekend to run out and pick up some groceries, I swung through a consignment store that's dangerously close to my house. Most of the wares are not to my taste or wildly overpriced but what's that down there in that cabinet?


Shiiiiiiny

So, to recap -- set out to pick one pen, wound up with three. Seems about right.

This is an old Sheaffer "flat top" Lifetime pen. "Old," since it's likely from the 1920s-1930. "Flat top" because, well, the end of the cap is flat:



It's also ink-stained, noticeably brassed in places like the knob on the clip, and the sac literally tore in my hands. What was once a bright green "jade" color is now a mottled pea-soup, which are all known issues with these guys. I also really, really like it. It's grown on me, and with a coat of the same carnauba wax that's so effective on enameled typewriters, it's regained some of its old lustre, if not its color. And soon: it'll have some friends to join it.

* Seriously: stay home if you don't feel well. There are no medals for being the office martyr to the plague. Stay the hell home. I get completely germophobic at this time of year.

Vive la poste!

Assuming Google translate and my own hazy recollection of high school French has that correct, I'm excited about what came in the mail today.



The Quo Vadis blog has giveaways now and then, and I entered their Bastille Day giveaway last month. ExaClair is the U.S. portion of a group of French companies that make fantastic papers, notebooks, inks... all the little necessaries for the pen-and-ink addicted. Now I just have to think of something worthwhile to put in these little guys. The 1951 book is like a composition book (Sorry LFP, it has floppy covers) and the Habana is a fountain-pen friendly version of that other mole-ish brand of hardcover, pocket-in-the-back notebooks. In my experience, those tend to be heavy on the hype, but light on the paper quality. I've heard nothing but good things about the Habanas, though, and I can't wait to try them out.

The New Kid

It's here! That was pretty much the reaction when I saw the big brown UPS truck pull up outside my house on Monday evening and drop off my new toy, this Neo2 (nee Alphasmart) which I'd traded in my old Pro model for. Rather kindly, the folks at Renaissance Learning threw in a sizable case free of charge, with various pockets and pen loops and things with which to tote the new gadget. To be perfectly honest, though, it's a bit of overkill, as this is an incredibly light, and relatively small device: much slimmer than the old Pro, and having the benefit of 25 years of technological development behind it in terms of a nicer LCD screen with proportional fonts, a very quiet and light touch, and the classic near-infinite battery life. It is as close to a portable typewriter replacement as you are likely to get these days.

I've already started redoing the novel that I dictated back in June, and although I'm not able to type as quickly as I can speak, I also can type far more reliably, and away from the main computer. I managed to knock a few paragraphs out last night in the bedroom, for example, far from the confusion of our kitchen after dinner. Already I'm pleased with the purchase.

My loyalties still lie with the Typewriter Brigade come November, of course, as I'm still hooked on marking up a physical written draft, and appreciate the permanence of a typed page compared to the nebulous nature of bytes, even those constructed on a device as reliable as this one. I did make one recent concession, though, and buckled down and bought a copy of Scrivener, after reading the countless accolades online from various amateur writers. Since I already do quite a bit of pre-organizing and am typing on paper, some of the tools meant to aid in drafting may not be as useful to me, but just going through the tutorial has shown me how I might use it to my advantage for rewrites. As nice as the Neo is for writing, it is still not a viable solution for large-scale edits -- nor was it meant to be -- and it's difficult to get a "big picture" view of my writing through a 5- or 6-line window of text.

Typed on a Neo2

A Quick Pen Review

In yesterday's typecast, I mentioned getting a bonus prize from Exaclair, the U.S. importer of Rhodia products. This all came about because I entered a drawing to win a Rhodia "dotpad" notebook, which uses a fine grid of dots instead of a lined graph. About ten days ago -- long after the contest was over -- the VP of marketing sent out this email:

Dear Friends,

I am sorry for the delay.

We did not like the original batch of orange dot pads so I didn’t send them out to the winners. I have been waiting for the 2nd batch to arrive from France and they finally did. I am now waiting to receive them from our warehouse. I will have them out to the winners, plus a surprise for your wait and time and trouble early next week.

Before I go on, I just want to point out what a class act this is, and I'm not just saying that because I've managed to secure great free stuff from Exaclair. This is exactly how customer service is supposed to work, even if your "customer" is some random shlub on the Internet, as I am. A big hand for Exaclair and Karen A. Doherty, their VP of Marketing. You can send me free awesome stuff anytime...

---

A couple people asked for my impressions of my bonus prize pen -- as you do -- so here's an impromptu what's-at-hand review for you.

This is not a very expensive product, but it's still a first for me, as I don't own any pens of this style: a ballpoint that accepts a fountain pen ink cartridge. Strictly speaking, this would not be a pen that you'd be heartbroken to lose, if only because it's almost entirely plastic, except for the clip, a decorative metal ring where the cap snaps on, and the point itself. I'd put it in the league of the Pilot Varsity, which is a disposable plastic fountain pen (although it can be refilled.)

Here they are side-by-side:



The weight is almost identical, making this pen very light and easy to carry around. It's also about 3/4 of a inch shorter than the Varsity. There's a definite feeling of "smallness" to the ink roller, which, again, makes it very portable and pocketable, but may be awkward to hold in larger hands if you don't post the cap on the back of the pen, like so:



Even posted, it's noticeably shorter than the Varsity, but not awkwardly. Conclusion: this is a pen meant to be used posted, or by the tiny-handed. Again, since it's all-plastic, it's not like you're doing damage to a valuable writing instrument, but like a Space Pen (which I also own) posting the cap feels necessary.



The feed in the roller is visible, just like that of the Varsity. They're very similar, and cleaning between inks may be an issue. To refill the Varisty, you pull the whole feed out, making it available for rinsing.



The roller takes standard "short" international-end cartridges, which always makes me happy, since those are pretty easy to come by, often masquerading as calligraphy pen refills. Long cartridges -- like Waterman -- will not fit in this pen, alas. There's a gap once the cartridge is pushed into place, but it's still not enough of a gap to get a long cartridge in there.



Because I am impatient, I gave the cartridge a little squeeze to get the ink into the feed. I don't know if this is necessary, but it's part of the ritual I have with my fountain pens, and bad habits die hard. Of course this splooged ink into those nice, clean feed fins.



Oh well. At least we know it's mine now, right?

There appears to be a very, very tiny breather hole in the end of the pen, down near the writing point. The ink leaving the cartridge needs to be replaced with air for everything to keep flowing. I don't know if you can see it in this photo, but it's there, right about at the 12 o'clock position.



The dedicated pen hacker (or ink lover) could easily convert this into an eyedropper pen. The cap seals tight with a click, and there are no holes in it that I can detect: the clip is affixed to the outside.

The back of the barrel has a tiny hole in it, which may just be leftover from the molding process. A drop or two of hot glue or clear nail polish would probably seal it up tight.

So, how does it write?



Not bad at all. You're writing with a very fine ball, obviously, so it's not going to be as smooth as a fountain pen, but using the same water-based ink makes it seem slipperier to me. And since it's using a thinner ink, you can also get shading as seen above (and seen better in-person.) Plus, you get the advantage of being able to use all the colors and styles of real inks. There was a blue cartridge inside the pen when it arrived which I used for this test, and Karen thoughtfully added a tiny tin of six dark-green cartridges to use when this one is gone. That's probably the best part of the whole thing: replay value!

Dot's Life

Finding the Signature 100 in the wild (recreation)


Surprise! It's a typewriter. Never expected to see that around here, did you?


Something unexpected (but not at all unwelcome)


Typed on the recently Silver Surfer-ized Kmart 100

Imagine

The Cheapitudes

Typed using Richard Polt's Oliver Printype TrueType font.

Update Time

No time for a typecast this week, so just a digital update to let you know I'm still breathing.

The Typosphere is growing strong. A writeup in the NY Times, and now a followup gallery from LIFE magazine? Sure, it's just the short-attention span of the media, distracted by the novelty of young 'uns at the keys, but that's OK. Maybe we'll convert a keychopper or two to the dork side. Fear of a typewriter-availability-Armageddon as as result of the publicity may have happened: Craigslist is strangly silent these last few days, except for the same Selectric being flogged over and over again. ("Worked last time we used it." Encouraging.) If a tulip-bulb-style price craze starts, rest assured that I will miss it entirely despite a keeping few adoptable machines around. I could pat myself on the back for showing Exceptional Restraint for bypassing the Royal 10 standard machine at the thrift store, but a) it's $50 and b) it's in bad, bad shape, certainly not $50 shape. Barely typeable. Lacks a pair of feet. Actually crusty in spots. Nothing like Richard Polt's (ahem) April First Find, but still pretty bad.

Ryan P.'s mail exchange is awesome. I know I've said it before, but Google says I suddenly have more readers (waves hello) so I'm going to promote it again. I've been exchanging mail with various people for -- let me check -- a year now, or even slightly longer in some cases. If you don't get any Real Mail any more (bills and catalogs are not Real Mail), then you owe it to yourself to sign up. Do it. Do it now. All of my mail was outbound, and I've been eagerly checking the mailbox for a week to see if anything came in, and then trying to hide my disappointment when it didn't. And then all of a sudden, I've got six letters in, all at once, typewritten, handwritten, artsy and plain. I feel like a king. It doesn't take much: just shoot Ryan your snail mail address and get a few in return. You'll like it. And did you put your name down for the Round Ribbon exchange as well? Just tell Ryan you want to do that, too, when you send him your address. He's a one-stop-shop for snail-mail delight.

Speaking of mail, Flat Stanley's addresses were due into the classroom today. My daughter picked the first address -- Rino! -- and then we'll go from there. It didn't feel fair making other people pay international postage, so I think we'll send Stanley out-and-back to non-US friends first, and then manage some kind of loop through the US typecasting community. That means Adwoa, you're likely to be next. I'll probably stick a "Where's Stanley" page up here once he gets going.

Speaking again of mail, next up from Clickthing Mad Science Labs: Cheap-Ass Crafty-Guy Mail. A few of you have already received my tests: wax seals, random rubber stamps, perhaps an interesting envelope... a photo-heavy post is planned. Until then, typecasters, keep spreading the word, making the posters, and checking those lonesome thrift store corners...

UPDATE: Following some advice I read... somewhere, I had the computer read my revised to me aloud last night. Oh the mistakes! So, I've yanked the .pdf down for now as I clean it up. If you have a text-to-speech program, I highly recommended this. Hearing the draft spoken aloud by a disinterested third party uncovers a lot of goofs that my eye glossed over, like missed articles, and redundant word usage. So, it's once again not ready for prime time.

And one last item. I've put up the first three chapters of One Last Quest, my 2009 NaNoWriMo novel. Back in college -- the old days! -- one of the guys in the dorm turned me on to Terry Pratcheet (now Sir Terry to us peasants) and I ripped through the few Discworld books that were available at the time. They were a lot of fun, and I appreciated their blending of humor and fantasy, and their light-read-ability. (Far more readable than a certain other title in my life at that time with a fantasy theme, at least on the cover.) I think being a geeky, computer-loving kid growing up in the 80's pretty much ensured that you would also get into Dungeons & Dragons, and the whole fantasy sci-fi thing, and I was no exception. I just recently unearthed an oversized index card at home, in fact, that outlined the algorithm for my "Random D&D Character Maker" program (TI-994A BASIC for the win, baby.) I found Douglas Adams and Piers Anthony then, too, and I think all of those things together give you a pretty clear picture of my world view at the time: swords and sorcery and geekery and Dr. Who on PBS late Saturday night. Sci-fi... skewed.

I tried my hand at a Serious Novel in 2010, a Serious Sci-Fi Novel, in fact, and although I told the story I wanted to tell, I didn't have nearly as much fun writing it as I did Quest. I'm catching up on the many Discworld books* that have come out in the meantime, and during this slow slog through Quest, I've realized that I'm probably aping Sir Terry more than a real author should -- in genre and tone, at least. (That sound you hear is my ego inflating.) But I have decided, thanks to the whole rewrite process, that this is the way I'm going to go from here on out with NaNoWriMo. Some people are destined to write Great Serious Fiction, and some are just not. I'm not, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. If you've got the chance, please read through it and let me know what you think.

* Going Postal: highly recommended. Hogfather: not so much. Monstrous Regiment: I'll let you know.

We are GO for Stanley!

Well, I wasn't sure that was going to happen, but details have finally come home with my daughter. Flat Stanley is ready for his travels through the typosphere if you, gentle readers, are willing to receive him. It looks like we need to gather at least five names and addresses, and then Stanley will make round trips from here to each destination. From the assignment sheet:

We will ask each host to keep [Stanley] for a short visit and then send him back telling us something about their city and the exciting things Flat Stanley saw or did while he was there. Some Great Flat Stanleys we have heard about have come back dressed in clothing from the area, with souveniers, area-appropriate mementos, travel brochures, photographs, postcards, and more.

Thanks to the kindness of Strikethru, we've got a selection of flat typewriter stamps to choose from, and one may get tucked along in the envelope. More details are coming, but for now, I need the names and addresses of anyone willing to act as a host for Stanley, to be turned in by this Friday. You don't have to post them here if you don't want to, just send them to mpclemens at gmail dot com and we'll take it from there.

Thanks typosphere!

Stamps and Seals and Art

First, I'm discovering a few new-to-me names on the Twitter, using the #typosphere hashtag. Now I'm following a new blog as a result of it, and wandering through another member's flickr stream, and seeing the mail art (some put together by fellow 'sphere dwellers) and then feeling really, really bad at the inadequate level of cool that my own letters pull off. I mean, seriously, have you seen what these people are doing with their envelopes? And here I get excited when I attempt a little typewriter doodle. Shameful.

You might remember my own foray into stamping, and I've been slowly committing other retro-witticisms to rubber, when one pops into my head and I have the time to dig through all the letters. I believe I'm up to three whole slogans now. Be amazed! Well, until you look at this guy's blog.

I've been sitting here thinking about where one could come by classy stamps (and by extension, wax seals, which I'm also obsessed with from way back), and how I could lay hands upon them, and ratchet up the cool. A little more reading through the blog at "eraser stamps" and then thinking back to Strikethru's own lino-art experiments... Well hey, it wouldn't be Clickthing if I didn't get all excited about another project, would it?

UPDATE #1: Can I just announce here and now that I love my wife?



She just came home with this, snagged from the remains of an estate sale in a "Free!" pile by the curb. Oh, this is awesomeness.

UPDATE #2: Can anyone deny that these are awesome when the kids sat down and churned out some art?

Kept 'em quiet for at least half an hour.

Flat Stanley Redux: We Are Go For Launch

Thanks to all the folks who indicated they'd be willing to take in my daughter's "Flat Stanley." I checked with her teacher, and it's perfectly fine that Typosphere Stanley spends a little more time on the road than is typical (I guess they're normally sent to one place and then returned.)

Based on the many responses, it looks like Stanley will be able to circumnavigate the globe. The tentative route is: California -> Hawaii -> Australia -> Switzerland -> Maine, and then a westward trek across the U.S. to be determined. (Any readers in Japan or central Asia out there?) I'm planning on turning this into a mini-geography lesson for my daughter: we'll dig out an atlas and trace out his route, and cross our fingers that he doesn't get lost on the way!

I'm guessing that Stanley is just a small paper cutout meant to be fit into a regular envelope. I'm planning to include a typed note "from" him to my daughter which you're all encouraged to add to. Crafty people: if you have a typewriter rubber stamp, I'd love a scanned copy that we can print out and color in and send with Stanley. No jet-setting world traveler should be without his writing machine.

Again, thanks to everyone who offered to take him in and pass him along; I'll let you know when Stanley gets ready to go.

Typosphere: Stanley Needs You!

Attention Typosphere...

My daughter's class is doing a "Flat Stanley" project and could use your help. If you're not familiar, Flat Stanley is a children's book wherein the main character (Stanley) is flattened, and has a series of adventures since he's flat enough to slip under doors or be put into an envelope and mailed. (Somehow this seemed less gruesome to me when I read the books as a child.)

Wikipedia has the skinny (sorry) on Stanley and this project...

This morning over breakfast, my daughter asked if I knew anyone "far away" who would be willing to receive her Stanley in the mail, and get a picture with him visiting exotic locales. Keep in mind that for eight-year-olds, going to the movies is an "exotic locale." I'm not sure how much time Stanley should be on the road, but all the letter exchanges we've been doing got me thinking...

I've been planning to send off letters to some of the more far-flung typospherians, and now wonder if you would mind if Stanley happened to come along for the ride? (Adwoa, Rino: I'm especially looking at you.) I'll try to talk to the teacher today and find out if Stanley is up to making a domestic and international jaunt, with typewritten letters along for the ride to boot. And if any of you have children in your lives doing a similar project, I'll be happy to return the favor.

Post a reply if you're willing: Stanley might just be coming to your town.

Fussing, and Making Do, and Moving the Hand

I'm re-reading Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones right now, having just wrapped up Chris Baty's No Plot, No Problem. If you've suffered through my endless posts of late, you know that having no plot is not a problem for me: I'm soaking in plot, so to speak. What I'm lacking right now, though, is excitement about the story I have in mind. It's probably pre-NaNo anxiety, so I'm trying to read Inspirational Writing-Type Books that won't necessarily make me love it, but will at least get me to relax about it and just let the words come. But of course I'm happiest when I'm fussing around and fretting and planning and plotting. And as hippy-trippy as Bones can be -- and it is -- Goldberg's mantra of keep your hand moving is a good one, and I'm trying to absorb it (again.)

I'm also fussing about the letters that are sitting on my desk, waiting to be replied to. In fact, I've got two letters from one person, which is throwing me completely off. Our home is in disarray right now thanks to a long-overdue remodeling project, and I'm still enjoying the last week and a half of lunchtime walks before they are sacrificed to NaNo, so my typing time has been reduced to nil. What I need to do, I've decided, is reply to these letters by hand to get past the angsty writing-block stew that I've brewed for myself. And that leads to fussing about stationery. Or finding some that says "middle-aged ordinary guy" not "Hello Kitty obsessed tweener" or worse yet, "Miss Havisham." Short version: there isn't much. Longer version: at least not reasonable for someone that expects to write more than a dozen letters in a year. So, I'm making do.

After some surreptitious testing in the store (ahem) I've picked up a drawing tablet by Canson, pictured above. And I think it will do. As Goldberg reminds us, it is the writing that is important, and I'm simply fussing too much right now to let myself do it. So if you're on the receiving end of one of my letters, you can expect a bit more rambliness than usual -- if you can even tell -- as I practice defussing with a moving hand.

Reading and Scanning

I've been throwing the bulk of my online energies into the relaunched NaNoWriMo forums, so I've got just a few musings here today:

• The letter-exchange program trundles on. I've decided that getting real mail that's not a bill is one of the most honest pleasures one can get for $0.44 (the other being dark chocolate Reese's cups.) Though in this age of instant-twitchy-"like button" feedback, I usually start feeling guilty the moment I open the envelope, like I need to stop wasting time and reply. This isn't significant or profound, but just another shade of neurosis you can use to paint your mental picture of me.
• The Typewriter Brigade is an enthusiastic bunch, and if you haven't signed on, you should, especially if you're waffling about whether or not you're going to participate. Even the young'uns in the group are well-spoken and classy. Seriously: what a nice group of people to write with. You should do it, too.
• And related to that, I've wheeled The Beast into its writing home for the next two months. I am trying very hard to resist the Royal Empress that Jay Respler has offered up. Fairly easy, since he's on the other side of the country, and shipping that behemoth would be crazy expensive. But my God, I love the look of the thing. (That one's Olivander's.) It's like a hunk of functional Googie architecture... on your desk.
• So the plan is: get published, get crazy rich, move to a bigger house, buy an SG-1 and an Empress to keep one another company. That's the plan. Yup. Starting... now!
• Actually, that's not the plan. For a little perspective on writing, check out this post on dreams versus expectations, and keeping the one from turning into the other. Luckily for me, I'm still living in the dream world. Ha!
  
• Eats, Shoots & Leaves should be required reading for everyone on the Internet. It's ideal book for nitpicking neurotics like me who freak out about apostrophe mis-use. Lynne Truss is the patron saint of the fussy.
  
• Yes, I read humorous punctuation guides for pleasure. This is a problem why?
• Once fine point that Truss makes and that I just re-read last night is the difference between reading on a page, and reading on a screen. On the page, your eyes move across and down, across and down, across and down. On the screen, your eyes stay fixed, and the page moves across them. To me, it's the difference between reading and scanning, and that could be why I generally hate the experience of screen-reading so much; I'd sooner print out a multi-page document and read it at my desk than sit at that same desk and read off my monitor, even though I have a nice, bright, large screen that can adjust its type size to even my lousy vision. Reading on a screen feels different because it is different. Well, duh.
• I mention this also because Staples appears to be selling the Kindle in their stores, and I was oddly compelled to pick up the sample model and hold it the other day. It sure is... pretty. So hard when the gadget-lust intersects with the reading-lust. Or in this case, partners up with it. And never mind that Amazon is generally behaving only a shade less evil than Apple when it comes to supported formats on their devices, and how they appear to be trying very, very hard to place themselves between readers and any title we may want to read... I was still tempted. Didn't give in, though. Not this time.

Edited to add:

To get on the mail-exchange list, send a note to typed (dot) letter (at) gmail (dot) com. First found out about this in February on Strikethru. Has it been that long already? Wow.

The Unexpected

Typed on Zsa-Zsa, an Olivetti-Underwood Studio 44