I am very much a willing victim of what
William Gibson calls the Tamagotchi Gesture.
I shave with straight razors. That means honing and stropping (a lot of stropping), a cupful of lather applied with a brush, and a certain degree of care. And sure, a few bloody wounds in the learning. Shaving now takes me the best part of half an hour. It's as far removed as possible from the world of ten-to-a-bag, blue plastic disposables.
It's also wonderful.
This is the very definition of the Tamagotchi Gesture: They're pointless yet needful, comforting precisely because they require tending.
Cut throat razors focus the mind. Zenfolk talk about being fully present, and nothing does that quite like having a big wedge of unimaginably sharp steel moving across your face. I come away from each shave centered and still, my soul the quiet eye of my usual cyclone of activity.
I think that's the heart of the Tamagotchi Effect. When too many things in one's life are instant and disposable, the overall effect is subtractive. By adding something that requires care and tending and concentration, we are nourished.
I'm writing my current novel longhand. And not just any longhand. After I ran Skatey the Skater Pen over with the car (yes, yes, I know!), I ended up switching to a dip pen.
That's right. A. Dip. Pen. Write a couple words. Dip. Write some more. Dip. Keep that pressure light, or you'll spatter all over the place. At first, it required almost as much concentration to form words as to think up what those words should be. (as much thought to write as to write, as it were)
The odd thing: My output actually *increased*. Something about the concentration in making the words frees the part of my brain that's trying to listen to the story from distraction.
There's no point using a hundred year old steel quill (I have a thousand or so lying around) to write a novel. Ballpoints are cheaper, cleaner and way more convenient. And the laptop is right here. But for me, for this novel, this works.
PS Finished the Tin Roof Blowdown last night. I need to let it settle a bit before I throw in my two cents. Or ten, as that's our smallest coin in New Zealand. Or 6.8 cents, as that's what ten of our cents are worth in America....
