It is said that handwriting improves the retention of knowledge while typing is best for recording content that constantly changes. The thing about writing is that it requires deliberate practice, because the movement to record each letterform is unique. Variations in kerning and spacing facilitate posterior reading. The size and arrangement of sentences dictate the flow of the text. And the paragraph layoout enables readers to locate themselves in the text, for each paragraph must only present a single main point. Although all of these characteristics are present in typed documents, the easiness to produce them means they demand less cognitive load from us.

There is something magical about slowing down and scribbling on a sheet of paper. Letters form into vords that make up sentences and coalesce into paragraphs. Writing is a dynamic process because past words should be connected to future words. Lines both enable, instigate and limit our creative potential — after all, whitespace is evermore scarce and words are not meant to be split at certain points. Orphan lines are an aberration; yet wrapping up a paragraph with a fully-written line is a stroke of genius. Content sure matters, but so does form. Short sentences are to be intermixed with long sentences, and paragraphs are to be evenly-sized. All else is plain gross.

Good handwriting is a dying art. Our fast-paced modern world spares little time for quiet reflection and even less time for taking thoughtful notes. Those who have not yet succumbed to the keyboard must resist the urge to speed up their writing — hurriedness usually comes along with ugly letterforms and disjointed pieces of information. Sometimes, it is quite hard to decipher our own scribbles, and even more those of others. Seasoned handwriters take pride in designing their texts for the sake of posterity. In doing so, they end up reaping the short-term wonders of writing as well. To them, pencils, pens and papers are less a burden than a world of opportunities.