April 2009

Just off Plaza Calderon in Sta. Ana, Manila, is a little street lined with shops that sell many different things.

We took a walk there one day to see what we would find.

There were pirated DVDs at three for a hundred pesos (US$2).

Clothes, perhaps from China, Vietnam, or Thailand, most of them only available in small sizes.

A rainbow of handbags.

Plastic beads attract with color…

…as do children’s toys.

Ripe golden mangoes, summer’s sweetest fruit.

Vegetables beckon with color.

Eggs come in many sizes and prices.

Name these fruits in ten seconds – go!

Cookies and bread in a bakery window.

The pig bread has raisin eyes. No pigs were harmed in the making of this bread.

Rice cakes of different kinds.

Hot roasted peanuts – garlic, spicy, and “skinless” – are scooped into a small glass a little bigger than a shot glass, then poured into a little brown paper bag.

Parrots for sale at a pet shop.

Tricycles lined up to take shoppers home.

Apart from things, we also found life – teeming, noisy, vibrant, full of itself, basking in the summer sun.

Photos taken with a Nokia XpressMusic cellphone camera.

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The sun descended and touched a flower. It burst into flame.

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This Pilot Custom 74 flies in from Leigh Reyes’s well-maintained collection with a three-tined music nib tweaked by famed nibmeister Richard Binder into an italic.

The nib is a beauty, with more than a hint of spring that makes it a joy to lay down wide lines.

Precision Japanese engineering and craftsmanship ensure that it writes from the get-go, without hesitation or skipping, even after being unused for weeks.

This is part of my journey towards out-of-the-ordinary nibs, as I venture farther out of my F (fine) and EF (extra-fine) comfort zone to explore the other options that make fountain pen use and collecting an enjoyable experience.

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As we walked into the first floor of Powerplant Mall we were serenaded by cool jazz music. It didn’t sound tinny or canned. We followed the source of the sound; peering over the glass dividers to the basement floor, we saw a four-piece band.

They played impeccably, effortlessly, reminding me why Filipino musicians are in demand all over the world, in lounges and bars, on cruise ships and stages, entertaining people with their talent .

After their set, I clapped. The saxophonist heard me, looked up, and smiled.

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Oh joy of joys! A frankenpen for my very own from frankenpen creator Tom Overfield!

The term “frankenpen” is used by fountain pen collectors to refer to a pen that incorporates parts from other pens – say, a cap or a barrel. The prefix “franken-” comes from the fictional monster cobbled together by Dr. Frankenstein.

Tom, an IT expert and a FP user and collector, makes entire pens from vintage Sheaffer parts. Like works of art, his creations have titles or names. This is “Thinenstein”. It has other siblings, all Sheaffer Snorkels – the first one he made was called “Frankensnork”, followed by “Son of Frankensnork” and “Bride of Frankensnork”, and all in the collections of Filipino penfriends.

Thinenstein is made from Thin Model (TM) parts and has a Touchdown fill system and a Triumph nib. The parts are of different colors – the cap burgundy, the barrel blue, the end cap green, the section dark amber.

“Sheaffer TMs were made for only a few years,” wrote Tom in an accompanying note. A Penspotters article says that the TM pens were introduced in 1950 and were fitted with the Touchdown system until the switch to the Snorkel filling system in 1952. For the bodies of their pens, Sheaffer used Radite (celluloid) until 1948, then brought in a new synthetic cast resin called “Fortical”.

Thinenstein’s section is a translucent or “visulated” dark amber plastic, which could not be used later on with the Snorkel “because of the need to house the Snorkel tube.”

The 14k two-tone gold Triumph nib is a marvel of design and engineering. It is a firm and sturdy nail, without the slightest hint of flex, making it more than robust enough for daily use.  Slightly upturned at the tip like a Turkish slipper, it lays ink in a consistent line.

It is is steady, reliable writer, one that can be counted on to perform day in and day out.

Its appeal also lies in its origin. Made from rare, old, and unusual but discarded parts joined to create an object of function that is at the same time an original work of art, Thinenstein is a perfect road warrior, combining the charm of vintage things, the attraction of beauty and exclusivity, and the practicality of performance.

Thank you very much, Tom, for this token of friendship that I will always treasure!

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Someone once asked me, “What would you be doing if you weren’t a writer?”

I couldn’t think of anything else I would rather do.

I grew up in homes full of books. Wherever we lived, there were always bookcases stuffed to bursting with my mother’s self-help books, collection of hardbound classics, and mystery, fantasy, horror, and science fiction paperbacks, or low shelves on the floor with my father’s choices in literature – Somerset Maugham, Gore Vidal, Sholom Aleichem.

My parents never consciously encouraged me to read, but surrounded by books and little else to do, I gravitated towards the shelves that were always open to me. I thrived on a literary diet of Enid Blyton and Louisa May Alcott, Nancy Drew and The Bobbsey Twins, Bulfinch’s Mythology and old-fashioned poetry, the rhyming kind like Gunga Din and The Ballad of Sam McGee.

In time, words and the putting together of them in sentences to convey meaning came as naturally to me as breathing. In school, my favorites subjects were the ones that used a lot of words – English, Social Studies. Math was anathema. In college, I took up Journalism. It was either that or English Studies, and I figured I’d have a better chance of earning through writing if I were a journalist, although my mother always said that there was no money in writing.

Today I make my living from it.

Often people ask, “Can you teach me how to write?” It’s a difficult question to answer, because the process is different for everybody. Some say that the talent is inborn. Perhaps to some extent that might be true; I believe some inclinations come naturally to people, like musical talent or athletic ability. But writing is also a skill that can be learned and cultivated, and anyone can do it. For the philosopher Jean Jacques Rosseau, “However great a man’s natural talent may be, the art of writing cannot be learned all at once.”

Some thoughts on writing that I’ve formed over the years:

1. Writing is a form of communication, just like speaking. Having problems starting your piece? Pretend you are talking to someone about it. Write it down that way. Then go back over what you’ve written and edit.

2. Writing uses language. To write effectively, you must know the language and its rules. Words are the construction materials, grammar the nails and mortar that hold them together. Immerse yourself in the language to build up your vocabulary. Even if you are writing in your mother tongue, don’t take it for granted that you know all the words or even enough of them. Read books and magazines. Watch television shows and films. Listen to native speakers and soak up the rhythm of their speech patterns. Choose a usage and composition guide – I was introduced to Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style in my freshman year of college, and have adhered to its tenets ever since.

3. Less is more. I’ve always clung to Strunk’s Rule Number 17: “Omit needless words.” Bombarded as we are on all fronts by information vying for our attention, why make it harder for your reader to decode your message? Related to this is White’s advice: “Avoid fancy words.” If there exists a simpler word that conveys the same meaning and nuance, use it. But in the end, always go by your ear – use whatever sounds right. As Matthew Arnold said, “Have something to say and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret of style.” The exception would be if you were deliberately using the fancy word or words to achieve a certain effect.

4. Organize, organize, organize. I believe this is the most important part of the writing process. It doesn’t matter that you can use big words like venustation or ptochology if you can’t put your thoughts and facts down in a sequence that will help the reader understand the message you wish to convey. Pay attention to the flow of your ideas; for your piece to be effective, it has to make sense, one thought leading to another in a logical manner.

5. Practice, practice, practice. Writing is a skill, like bicycling or blacksmithing. Write something everyday. Said Doris Lessing: “You only learn to be a better writer by actually writing.” Or take Mary Heaton Vorse: “The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.” It takes discipline, but it pays off, I promise.  Take advantage of today’s technological advances and the myriad means of self-expression. Write your feelings down in a journal, or publish your opinions on a blog. One of the easiest ways is microblogging using applications like Twitter. If you can text, you can write!

6. Edit, edit, edit. Few, if any, first drafts are perfect. Go over what you’ve written and clean up typographical errors, spelling and grammar mistakes, factual inaccuracies, conceptual inconsistencies, and sequence flow. Science fiction writer C. J. Cherryh asserted, “It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly.”

7. Be yourself. In the beginning, writers tend to copy the style of the authors they admire. But the most natural and authentic voice is your own; have confidence in yourself. Said Bill Stout: “Whether or not you write well, write bravely.”

8. Write from your heart. Whether you seek to persuade or inform, the reader responds best to pieces that are sincere and honest.

Winston Churchill, one of the best statemen and writers that Britain has ever produced, once declared, “Writing is an adventure.” It is a journey anyone can take. May yours be filled with the thrill of discovery and the joy of creativity!

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This is officially the flexiest pen I have.

A Caswell black hard rubber with eyedropper fill, it comes from Prof. Butch Dalisay’s collection of vintage American pens.

Made in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, circa 1910-1915, this would have been new and modern around the Art Nouveau period, one of my favorite movements in art. Though the pen itself is simply adorned with geometric feathering all along the cap and barrel, its flexible Sanford nib, in a practiced hand, can recreate all the whiplash curves, ornate flourishes, and  stylized lettering of that era.

Ink: Private Reserve Burgundy Mist + Diamine Cerise; Journal: teNeues.

A heart-shaped breather hole  decorates the nib; it’s a common design element in older pens that helps date them. As an eyedropper fill – the hollow barrel itself contains the ink – it holds an inordinate amount of writing potion, perhaps the best fill system to accomodate its lavish gushing.

The nib bends and sways at the lightest touch, delivering lines that vary from eyelash-thin to broad Pentel-wide with just the right combination of ease and pressure.

It’s amazing that this pen has survived for nearly a century. Simple in design and construction, yet well-made enough to withstand the rigors of use by many hands, the Caswell proves the functionality and practicality of many vintage pens.

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Once in while, when surfing the Net, you come across something so delightful it makes dealing with all the angst of existence almost worthwhile.

Except for the decaf and soy, the second order below could be mine.

See this comic at http://wondermark.com/348/.

Fortunately, there’s more of this same ironic and uncannily accurate social commentary by David Malki ! at Wondermark.

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I carry different fountain pens for different purposes, always having at least one flexible and and one firm-nibbed pen with me when I go out.

These pens are a c. 1920s Moore vest pen, one of the flexiest I own, and a firm-nibbed Sailor 1911 Demonstrator that I finally had the courage to ink, something I had been putting off since I acquired it last January.

The Sailor contains dregs of Private Reserve Arabian Rose, while the Moore runs PR Copper Burst. I got a bottle of Cross ink and opened it to see how brilliantly blue it was, and tested some Paper One 80 gsm paper that I’ll have bound into notebooks.

The Tarot cards are Alex’s. It’s a Golden Dawn deck from Lo Scarabeo. She doesn’t read cards; she was just attracted to the lovely artwork.

I love the Nine of Pentacles card; the lady in the illustration could be me, with the voluptuous curves and love of pink. I wouldn’t mind looking like the glamazon on the Strength card, though.

Here’s a closeup of the Moore’s nib with its heart-shaped breather hole. This shot was taken with available light to show the texture of the paper and the gradations of the ink.

The Moore’s celluloid barrel has wonderful patterning. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, more’s the pity. It’s a lever fill. To ink, pull down the lever with a fingernail; this forces a pressure bar inside the barrel against the inc sac, forcing air out. Dip the nib in ink, and release the lever to allow ink to rush into the sac.

The Sailor is fitted with a converter. To fill, screw down the twister to the bottom. Dip the nib in ink, and screw the other way. The ink will creep up inside the converter. A long cartridge can hold more ink but isn’t as interesting to fill.

Its 14k nib is a work of art.

The Sailor has a firm fine (F) nib with no flex, and writes thinner than Western Fs. In a Western pen, this would be XF, or even XXF.

The wide variety of fountain pen nibs is one aspect that fascinates collectors and users.

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