4 Reasons to Create Your First Drafts in Ink
Why you may want to find a favorite pen or dust off grandpa's typewriter.
Quick question:
Which of these do you enjoy more?
a. The craft of writing
b. Having written
There's a good chance that you prefer publishing a work over starting one.
And this is a pity.
Why? Because when we fixate on "having written," we deprive ourselves the joy of the craft.
Don't get me wrong—sight of the end can be a strong motivator when momentum is waning. But what keeps you excited to write when the finish line can only be dreamt?
For many modern writers, whether you're writing a ground-breaker or a memo, this usually means sitting in front of a computer with a blank word document, waiting for inspiration to tingle your fingers.
And when ideas finally cause your digits to dance, there's one key that gets the most love—the delete key.
Just as soon as an idea passes the blood-brain barrier onto the "page", you're presented with the option to erase its existence. While this functionality is useful for refining your ideas, it can also be a knife to the throat of your voice.
But what's the alternative?
Hear me out:
Compose your first drafts in ink on paper.
Whether writing with a pen or pecking at a typewriter, your initial approach of an idea needs to physically exist in this world.
But why?
Reason #1
Writing your ideas in ink gives you quality time with them.
Let's also preface the practice of drafting ideas in ink with the same rule Darth Vader gave Boba Fett—"I want them alive—no disintegrations."
No destruction of thoughts.
No scratch-outs.
No white-outs.
No wadded-up balls of paper on your desk.
Ok, with that out of the way, let's look at the power of rough ideas.
There's no such thing as a completely useless thought worthy of permanent destruction while drafting ideas. Each idea contains at least a joule of potential energy that will propel your writing process. The problem with the ability to backspace these thoughts is that you can no longer build upon them in future drafts—unless, unlike me, your memory is perfect.
However, having to materialize rough ideas gives you quality time with them.
What does this look like in practice?
When writing a piece, I like to draft each line with a pen. As I go, I allow myself to rewrite lines if I feel they can be expressed with greater clarity.
If I think a line is as good as I can compose it in the moment, I'll mark it with a star in the margin.
I'll also mark the versions I’m likely not carrying to the next draft with an X in the margin.
Lines between a ⭐ and an ✖️ receive a ❓.
I allow myself to
strikethroughmistakes—but leave them legible.
In many instances, I find myself star-marking early versions of lines and "X"-marking later versions. Had I been typing these same thoughts on a computer, those earlier (sometimes better) versions would have been forever lost. And ultimately, when it comes time to type up a handwritten draft, I have multiple versions of that line to pick—because I’ve usually slept on it.
Reason #2
Rough ideas construct the mental scaffolding for refined thoughts.
This is somewhat of a continuation of Reason #1 but deserves its own explanation.
If someone got a hold of one of my notebooks, certain pages may lead this person to believe I have serious mental issues. This isn't because of the content of the writing (most of the time, anyway), but rather how often they may see the same line rewritten—just with certain words replaced, shuffled around, or the same ideas written in different ways. And yes, the stars, x-markings, question marks, and strikethroughs would be tricky to decode.
With every pass, the idea is refined. In creating these passes, one builds the scaffolding of their composition.
Much like a visual artist may begin with sketches on scratch paper or a comedian may scribble down the ember of a firey bit on a cocktail napkin, these pages are essential in the process of sculpting ideas into developed thoughts.
Reason #3
Writing drafts in ink creates evidence of productive work.
Even if you still prefer to submit your earliest, roughest ideas into the void of the shining white screen behind a blinking cursor, immediately deleting every substandard thought as you go, it's easy to feel like you've wasted your time. You've likely blown out many cobwebs or even moved mountains between you and realizing your refined message. However, that blank screen and blinking cursor say otherwise.
We need evidence to feel productive. There is no better way to "show your work" to yourself than with ink on a page.
Let's say you only compose and refine one sentence for the day. The next day, you spend hours testing it with your other statements only to find it superfluous. Even if it took six inked-up pages to get there, it will be hard not to feel accomplished. The evidence will be in your favor.
Reason #4
The raw craft of writing feels good.
Whether composing first drafts with a foundation pen, typewriter, or within a Grammarly editor (please don't do that to yourself), the craft of writing is quite satisfying. Few other activities ask the mind to simultaneously engage in creative exploration and problem-solving while encouraging the meditative buzz of a flow state.
So, why keep it analog?
While there's no denying the pros of using digital technology in the writing process, the cons are abundant as well. As discussed, these two main cons are:
1. The virtually endless distractions contained within the machine
2. The ability to immediately disintegrate any materialized thought with the tap of a delete key
The longer you put off the use of digital technology in your writing, the more you delay the influence of the cons of these tools.
Without these cons, you maximize the "good parts" of the craft of writing.
Uninterrupted, judgment-free ideation.
The birdseye view of your mental process—from idea to completed work.
The quality time with your ideas.
You may be thinking, "this sounds immensely inconvenient."
And you're right—analog-developed, physically existing first drafts have many drawbacks.
They aren't easily examined via keyword search.
They aren't safe from fire, flood, or misplacement.
They’re slow to develop and messy to interact with.
But the beauty of this methodology, this practice, is not in its ease, but its simplicity.
And the best things in life aren't necessarily easy, but they are simple.