In Defense of Analog
The backspace button is the literal devil
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IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
Lately, whenever I sit down to write, I am swarmed with inner criticism. When it is me, a keyboard, and my fingers left to a blank page, I doubt my first instinct, my self-permission to be messy leaves, and I hit the backspace button before I even let myself get the beginning of a full truth down.
I am in the process of writing another book, and many drafts live in Notion, Google Docs, Microsoft Word, and even my Notes app. But as I write more about reparenting, divorce, queerness, trauma, and other vulnerable topics, the urge to self-edit takes over my desire to write and share truthfully, vulnerably, and creatively.
As someone who has chosen to share online, when I write something I think may have an audience, visions of hate comments and email responses flash before me, and I get in my own way. I anticipate how my words may be misunderstood, think through the endless list of nuances I likely miss, and consider the layers of others’ experiences that may be cast upon the words I write. When I draft in this hyper-critical way, the joy and creativity of this art practice I’ve come to love is stripped away. I am less likely to be radically honest with myself.
Writing digitally has ruined my practice of the shitty first draft. When I arrive at a virtual page, I feel an urgency to fill it with the most “correct” version of what I’m trying to say and leave myself minimal room to make mistakes.
I write in my composition book, and I do not cross out what I may or may not mean. No red squiggles tell me I spelled a word wrong, and no Grammarly suggests a more concise way to execute a sentence. I write in pen and allow myself to simply get the words on the page, trusting that I can edit, add, and expand later.
I’ve been experimenting with having different journals for different purposes and organizing the containers of how and what I write. My mindset in my book writing journal is different from my stream-of-consciousness morning (or afternoon) (or before bed) pages journal, my daily scrapbooking journal, and what ends up in the letters I send to my pen pals. Having these different containers allows me to have more intentionality when I come to the page rather than every digital page feeling endless and quite literally spineless.
Pressing against a journal’s physical spice, this analog practice, allows me to enter more embodied writing. I am noticing I’m writing things I normally don’t allow myself to say when I come to the digital page. The private and personal practice of journal-keeping has allowed me to access more clarity about what I want to share publicly. I am able to edit with a sharper eye and keep revision a sacred act. I am able to make more sense of what writing goes in what container (newsletter vs. book vs. journal vs. social media post vs. I just need to bitch to a close friend).
We’ve all become so attached to digital sharing, writing, and conversation. Returning to analog alongside the connectivity of the digital world has allowed me to become even closer to myself and those I love. Consider: where can you integrate more analog practices into your life? I highly recommend multiple journals, physical to-do lists, pen pals, and even scrap paper that we sometimes crumple up and throw away, never to be seen again.
Currently reading: We Could Have Been Friends, My Father and I: A Palestinian Memoir by Raja Shehadeh
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