When I started using pencils I found myself wanting to sharpen them all the time. If it wasn’t a fresh-from-the-sharpener needle point, it felt like writing with a crayon after only a few words.

Then laziness took over and I got used to writing with a pretty blunt point, and found I got the knack of maintaining a reasonable line width – wider of course, but not too wide. The funny part is that I was convinced that I writing a much wider line, butt when I look at the writing later I can’t see the difference.

It seems like while I’m writing I notice details that seem to disappear over time. While I’m writing I might think a particular word was written perfectly, each letter exactly as it should be. Five minutes later I can’t tell the difference between that word and the ones next to it. I’ll sketch something, and everything looks off and terrible. 5 minutes later I look at it again, and I’m astonished because it looks too good to have been drawn by me. While I’m writing, a wider nib or a blunter pencil point feels like I’m writing with a broom. Characters with loops like a’s, e’s and l’s seem closed up. But later, I don’t even notice the change in line thickness, or if I do, the wider line is actually easier to read.

Anyone else run into these kinds of disappearing details? Does what you write or draw change for you?

If you read any of the forums or blogs related to pens you know ink permanence is a recurring subject. I suspect everyone gets interested in it at some point or another. I myself have more than once gotten a bit obsessive about finding and using only the most permanent inks or pens. Each of these threads rehashes some common themes:

We must write in pen, because pencil can be erased. Actually, erasing isn’t that easy – I did drafting with pencils very early in my career, and I can assure you that completely erasing pencil that has been in place for a while is not an easy task even with an electric eraser on vellum. I do not think one will be able to thoroughly erase aged pencil from the kinds of paper most notebooks and letters use, at least not without damaging the paper. If the intent is to destroy the material, tossing or burning would be a lot of faster.

Yes, changing individual entries is a different story, and for keeping records and checks and the like ink obviously makes sense, but it’s ironic that pencil is avoided because aside from erasing, pencil graphite is pretty resistant to water and solvents.

We must protect our writings from the ages so that future generations can have them. What we write in our letters and journals will be treasured for decades to come and our distant successors wouldn’t be relieved to learn they’d become unreadable, and thus be able to throw them away. Sure, everyone wants mementos, but I tend to doubt anyone is going to wade through the volumes I’ve filled with drivel over the years. Some of the letters I wrote to Susan early in our relationship are sweet and G-rated, but some of them would surely have a third party reader writhing in agony. In fact, I’m pretty sure we never invent time travel because I haven’t been visited by descendants asking me to stop writing.

But, you never know. I might still invent something or become famous, and lots of journals may be a nice retirement package for some great, great, grandchild.

Even so, given how much of old writings have survived, is the quality of ink in modern times really that critical?

Checks, of course, must be written in the safest ink. The assumption here is that the checks we write are routinely seized upon by forgers, and we must guard against them washing our checks and re-writing them for larger amounts to someone else. I wonder how often this really happens. Those who have a lot to lose clearly need to be careful.

Any forger who goes to the trouble to steal and wash a check of mine is going to be disappointed. I’ll know it happened because he’ll send me a bill for the NSF charge. I write checks rarely these days, and it’s getting more infrequent each year.

It must resist the common spill. This one is pretty plausible for lab notebooks and folks who frequently write in restaurants, outdoors, or anywhere near a child with a beverage. As a parent I’ve learned to keep a minimum distance between the disaster triangle formed by a child, an open glass of liquid, and anything of value. Even so I’ve spilled on a book a few times. Each time it’s smeared the ink, but what was left was fairly easy to read. Even the least water resistant ink I’ve tested under running water has left enough image to be legible, and in the common scenario, what is lost was written only moments earlier, and can likely be recalled. This is another case where pencil has the advantage.

So how permanent does it really need to be? I can’t remember anything I’ve written in my life that was critical enough to warrant the kind care I could take to make sure something is permanent.

How far do you go to make sure what you write is safe?

A few weeks ago I found myself putting aside the fountain pens I’d been using and pick up ballpoints again. I go through long periods where I abandon FP’s for ballpoints, from time to time. While FP’s have their advantages and provide a particular kind of satisfaction, BP’s provide a thoughtless ease. The writing experience is the same regardless of the paper, no concerns about where it’s kept or in what position, or whether there are temperature or pressure changes or someone borrows it, and last but not least they hold enough ink to last months instead of days.

People often have strong opinions about the quality of various BP refills, but I find that almost any ballpoint will be an excellent writer if it is used a lot. Ever notice that the pens they hand you at the store or bank tend to write better? It’s because they’re being used constantly.

I’ve accumulated more than a few BP’s over the years and I find that nearly all of them write poorly if left alone for a long time, but if I use one exclusively for a day or so it gets really nice as the fresh ink flushes out the crustier stuff near the point. Caran d’Ache pens seem to stay the easiest, the Fisher needs more constant use to stay at it’s best, but it’s best is really nice. But there is nothing like the difference there is between different nibs and inks.

I rediscovered the Caran d’Ache 849 recently. I originally got one from the folks at Muller Martini when I worked in the graphics industry, and always thought it a nice pen. It has a simple, quiet, mechanism, keeps it’s spring when the cartridge is out, and is about as sturdy as any pen. The clip is replaceable if it gets bent. Since then I’ve accumulated a few more, because they come in neat colors and patterns. It takes Parker and Fisher cartridges although the CdA cartridges are excellent, if expensive. I prefer the Fisher refills because I can write in any position and on wet paper (think credit card slips that have been laid on a damp bar) but if I’m at home or work it doesn’t matter much.

I carried a Fisher AG-7 for years until I realized their CH-4 is a little more comfy to hold. If not for the cartridge flexibility of the 849 the CH-4 would be my favorite. The Rotring 600, Pelikans, and Faber Castell all take Parker cartridges and so will take the Fisher as well.

Sooner or later though, the line quality and blandness of BP’s send me back to fountain pens and the cycle starts over.

I bought the Pelikan M800 back in the 90′s, when I was young and had money. So these comments are on a pen that is around 16 years old. I was obsessed about getting a really big pen and the M800 met that criteria. The M800 is a handful of pen, with a solid feeling without being too heavy. It is noticeably larger than regular pens, and a few people over the years have made comments.

It’s a piston fill pen and there’s something about piston fill pens that I love. They seem like more serious instruments than converter pens, and they hold more ink. No uncertainty about where ink comes from: It comes from bottles. The M800 exudes serious penness.

It’s not a perfect pen, however. It has ribs on bottom of nib hold extra ink, which hold quite a bit of ink. It is nice for dipping, but not nice for filling because all the ink in those ribs will end up in whatever you’re using to wipe off the nib. It has a rust ring which is the decorative ring around the lower part of the grip. They call it a rust ring because it tends to get rusty because of frequent baths in ink. My hasn’t yet started to corrode.

The reveal is short – less than quarter of an inch, and barely enough to grab the pen out of a tight sleeve in a bag. The reverse tapered section right above the clip can be a lifesaver. In a shirt pocket the pen is tall enough to stick out another quarter inch or so further, so it shows itself off. On the cap, rather than a nice medaleon as on the Parker Duofold, is just a screened graphic. This, I think, is a bit of letdown. A pen of this caliber should have higher quality embellishments. The clip, while not hinged, is pretty sturdy and grips just as well now as it did 16 years ago. The cap is a screw-on, and while I have occasional problems with my M200′s unscrewing in a pocket the M800 doesn’t. I think it’s the plastic, as it just feels tighter to unscrew.

Mine is in the traditional green striped barrel, and it’s a look that is formal but not over the top. The ink window is nice, and works well enough to get an idea if the pen is full, half full, or less. It takes some careful angling in the light to get a good view, but really it’s not something I’ve needed to see easily.

Like all Pelikans, the pen writes well and is reliable. I can ink it up with any ink I have, leave it in a drawer for a month, pick it up and it will write. On a plane I’ve had no issues, and the only time I end up with ink on my fingers is when I’m refilling it and not being careful. It’s a very usable pen that is easy to live with.

While the M800 is one of my favorite pens, I think I may get an M600 someday because after trying one I think it’s a better fit. Of course, I might just spend the rest of my life trying to decide which pen I like better.

Normally I tend to be a fountain pen guy, but from time to time I go through a ball point phase. What usually triggers it is travel – writing notes on shiny business cards is a great motivator to carry a ball point, as is fretting over ways to carry ink while traveling and worrying what will happen when I take the cap off a fountain pen on an airplane.

So as I was preparing for a trip I discovered my old Parker jotter in my rarely-used portfolio and got intrigued. I put some heat shrink tubing on it to make it a bit thicker and more comfy, and reminded myself that it’s really a pretty useful little pen. The ballpoint refill is pretty good. But I prefer gels to ballpoints, so I decided to see what refills were available. That’s when I discovered that Parker makes a gel refill that is the same form factor as their ball point refill.

To me gel pens are a really good compromise between the all-terrain aspects of a ball pen but the ease of writing of a fountain pen, but more paper-tolerant than a rollerball. The line quality and contrast so much better. If I could get a gel refill for the Fisher AG7 I’d be in heaven, but the Jotter is pretty good in terms of durability without serious investment.

So I went out and got a 2-pack of gel refills for the Jotter to check them out. All I could find was medium, and I was tempted to drive to Daly’s and get a fine but fortunately learned online that they only make a medium. Oh well.

The refill writes pretty roughly straight out of the box, but after a bit of writing it seems to have gotten better. I noticed that while on a plane the pen got very unreliable. The paper was Moleskine notebook paper, and it was clean, but the pen skipped like crazy and was not smooth. I suspect the change in air pressure put too much force on the ball. Regardless, once on the ground the pen wrote reliably.

The drying time is fast enough that I didn’t find my hands tattooed with ink. It also wrote fairly well on a coated business card I received, but it doesn’t write on the really shiny ones. The AG7 writes a bit better on those. Line width is typical for a .7mm, and line quality was pretty consistent. I’m still on the first cartridge, so I hesitate to make too much of the roughness I first experienced. It could be that this cartridge had a defect. The cartridges come with a ball of plastic sealing the point, so I’m curious what affect long periods of disuse will have on them once the seal’s been broken.

The net result is a $10 all-metal clicker style ball pen that writes nearly as well as a Pilot G2, but in a nicer body. At about $6 a pair for the cartridges, versus $3 for G2 refills, they’re twice the price. They’re also available only in .7 where alternatives are typically available in .5 as well, if not also 1.0 and wider. I’m not sure if I will keep putting gels in this pen or just go back to ballpoint cartridges (I have a few extras) when the gels run dry.

Every once in a while, I flip from using fine point pens to broad point, to medium, or back again. Today I got some Pilot G2 Gel pens in size 10. I believe this is supposed to be a 1mm equivelant point size. All I can say is, it’s BROAD.

When I use a broad pen, I write larger. My writing is easier to see and read, and my ideas seem bigger and simpler. Right now I’m trying to figure out some tricky (for me) data base stuff, and writing strange hybrid flow charts on plain white paper is working. It’s working better with a broad point pen.

When I use a fine point pen, I write smaller. My ideas seem more precise. I tend to think more about details, and I write more neatly – I have to, or I can’t read the small writing!

Give it a try – why not change your point size and change your thinking?

Mike Rohde has a great idea – hack the Pilot G2 mini (which is nice and small, to fit better in pockets) to accept a better cartridge that doesn’t bleed through Molekine paper so much. Cool!

The Namiki Grance is no longer sold, which is a real shame because it is a great combination of quality, price and pure usability.

I bought it back in 1997 or so, and it quickly became one of my favorites. It writes very well, with a ink feed that almost never dries out. I swear I can leave this pen full of ink for months, pick it up and if there is any ink left in it, it will write.

The cap is a click-on, instead of twist or threaded which I like. The pen is not very thick, and the nibs run narrow, but if you write fairly small it’s all good. The nib is not very flexible, but it’s very smooth. Construction-wise, Namiki doesn’t disappoint. Solid feel, reasonably tight threads with only a little grittiness when screwing the body together. There’s an O-ring to keep things tight, which is a nice touch. The cap doesn’t noticeably rattle when it’s on, which is often a problem with click-ons. The clip is very tight, and is designed to put a death-grip on a shirt pocket – it’s not going to be so useful when gripping thicker fabrics. The reveal is pretty short – perhaps a quarter of an inch – but enough to reliably grab the pen.

While these are no longer made, they are still showing up on Ebay for $100 or so. At that price, they are a nice pen, very usable, without the fragility you sometimes feel with more expensive pens.

I was in the pen shop a long time ago yearning for something new. I was in a ballpoint frame of mind, as I am now, but I was fixated on the Fisher Space Pen cartridge and was looking for a pen that would hold it.

The pen store guy pulled out a few Parkers, but they weren’t interesting. I looked over the various Fisher models, but wanted something different. Then he handed me this:

The Faber-Castell E-Motion. It’s kind of short, squat pen, like it looks. It’s very pleasant to hold, and to write with. The wood gives it a feel that only wood can, and it will take a Fisher refill – the plain one that the Fisher pens use. I bought it.

It’s reasonably priced ($30 list), and nice enough to use pretty much anywhere.

The Pros:

• Hinged, alligator-style clip, with just enough teeth to grip fabric without marring it.
• Short length, easy to carry.
• Light weight.
• A thicker barrel is easier to hold, requires less grip pressure which ultimately means less fatigue.
• The FC cartridge is quite large, but it also take Fisher cartridges if you need them.
• The reveal (the amount of pen that will stick out of a pocket) is enough to easily grab the pen.
• The clip doesn’t have any play, and feels very solid – it’s stamped metal not solid, but that’s no problem in this pen.
• No parts fall out when changing cartridges – always a good thing.

The Cons:

• It has the dreaded refill click. Every time the pen touches paper, there is a very soft click as the refill rattles in the body. While writing it sounds like a prisoner tapping out a message on the plumbing to his friend down the cell block I’ve thought of getting one of those Morse-code decoders just to see if the clicks actually do tap out some meaningful code. Probably best left alone. Anyway, both the Faber and Fisher refills do the same thing. Check before you buy.
• The cap, which actuates the twist mechanism to reveal the point, has started to skip on mine when you happen to turn it the wrong way. I don’t know how serious this will become, but every time it happens, I’m reminded that this pen is built perhaps a bit more cheaply than it feels.

Still, for $30 it’s a darn nice pen and I enjoy using it. If I was going to take notes for a very long time – like a 3–day conference – I wouldn’t hesitate to bring this pen. The thick barrel would keep my hand from cramping, and the ambient noise would drown out the clicks.

I bought the Lamy 2000(affiliate link) pen because I have their fountain pen, and I really like that pen even if it’s very, very broad point. So, while I was at Daly’s (if you’re ever in Milwaukee, you really need to check them out) picking up some refills, I decided to pick up the Lamy 2000 ballpoint. I might yet pick up the roller ball, when my obsession comes back around to roller balls.

Anyway, so what kind of pen is the Lamy 2000? A pretty good one, even if it’s a bit pricey ($65). It’s been around since 1966, but it has a rather timeless design – I would have guess it came out maybe 5 years ago. The model I have is the fiberglass reinforced plastic version, they also have a “blackwood” (ebony?) version which costs more.

The pros:

• Very light weight – no dragging down any pocket with this pen.
• Cartridge is pretty large capacity.
• The reveal is enough to grab the pen without trouble.
• The barrel diameter is large enough for an easy gasp.
• The surface finish also provides an easy grip.
• The clip is hinge & spring, versus a straight spring clip. Should last a long time.
• The refill doesn’t rattle or wiggle or click while writing – always a good thing.
• There are no springs or other parts that come sliding out of the pen when changing the refill.
• The mechanism doesn’t squeak or rattle, and has a satisfying action to it.
• The mostly plastic body won’t mar or damage pocket-mates.

The cons:

• It’s pretty expensive.
• It’s so lightweight that you’ll never notice it missing from a pocket.
• The clicker, for lack of a better term, looks the same whether the point is in or out – there’s no way to tell if the point’s out while the pen is in a pocket or sleeve.
• The clip doesn’t have the capacity to clip onto thick pocket hems, like on the inside of a winter coat.
• The clip has an annoying amount of side-play. It’s not a factor in actual usage, but a fine instrument, even a writing instrument, should have perfect fit and finish.

When I got this pen I selected the medium refill, but if they have a broad point I think I’d prefer it to the medium, which is a bit narrow. I like the pen, although the materials and weight make it seem more fragile than it really is. I find it very comfortable to write with, and an easy pen to carry. Time will tell how tough it really is.