ESSENTIAL KIT FOR WRITERS
I'm often asked for advice on the best software and other kit for writers. Basically, it's whatever works for you. Seriously. People have written with needles on bars of soap in prison, and on paper bags with stubs of pencil when in extreme poverty, so lack of fancy equipment is no excuse for not writing. But it's a very individual thing, and all I can tell you is what works for me.
I swear by:
1. A computer. No, that's not as daft as it sounds. Not everybody finds typing is for them. I have colleagues who always write drafts longhand. I couldn't manage my output that way, much as I love my fountain pens, but longhand has its virtues, notably making you slow down and think before you commit words to paper. Much the same can be said of a manual typewriter. (Or even a dictaphone.) Try everything first before you plunge automatically into the digital world. For me, the verbal-diarrhoea-mode of a desktop system is a trade-off against time. I'd be a better writer if I went back to the typewriter I was trained on as a reporter, I think, but I'd also never get anything finished in time.
2. A mechanical keyboard. Yes, this is Gucci kit. If you opt to write on a computer and you type fast -- and you type a lot -- don't buy an ordinary membrane (rubber dome) keyboard, which is almost certainly what you'll get 99% of the time. Pony up the dough and buy a mechanical one, the kind that hardcore PC gamers like. I bought a Matias Tactile Pro and its clattering Alp switches transformed my working day. I asked my techno-marvel buddy Sean: I had so many typos most days that I thought I might have had a bloody stroke, and mentioned it to him. "No, you've got a membrane keyboard," he said. "Get a decent one." So I did, and my typo rate plummeted to near zero. Membrane keyboards can't handle really fast typing. I've got a cupboard full of discarded ones to prove it, some much more expensive than the Matias. I've since ditched the Tactile Pro simply because of the high failure rate of the Alp keys -- two keyboards in succession developed faults after two months' use each -- and I'm now using another mighty mechanical beast, the Unicomp Ultra Classic IBM style, a resurrected version of the one with buckling springs that we older folk recall from the 80s and 90s. It's satisfying and solid. I don't think it has n-key rollover like the Matias, but so far I haven't noticed the lack of it. Poncey mind-my-latte wafer-thin hipster keyboards might look nice on your desk, but if you're serious about writing, stop being a big girl's blouse, roll up your sleeves, and get a clunky, clicky keyboard with chest hair. You won't believe the difference. It's a Yorkie Bar versus a Flake.
(Update, April 2016: my third Matias just bit the dust, again with repeating keys and suddenly dead ones, so I’m done with ‘em.)
(Update, February 2017: Amazon now sell a wide range of mechanical gaming keyboards that are perfectly suitable for writers, and they’re a lot cheaper than Matias or Unicomp if you’re on a tight budget. Many of them also have backlit keys, which is nice if you like to work in low light. I haven’t used mine as extensively as the Unicomp, so I can’t comment on the longevity of cheaper brands, but the keys are almost as good as the buckling spring and Alp types. Actually, depending on your personal taste and how heavy-handed you are, you might like dedicated gaming keyboards better. Either way, it’s a good introduction to proper clicky keys.)
3. A big screen. Size counts. It counts even more when you're editing or proofing and need multiple windows open. I use a 27-incher (oo-er missus!) but I could often do with more. Having said that, I can work okay for a while on a 7" tablet, and I can edit PDF galleys way better on a tablet than on a desktop monitor, but that's more about the ergonomics of e-ink annotation than the visibility factor.
4. A dictionary. No, not a spell checker. A dictionary. An actual book of words, be it hard copy or an online subscription. You learn nothing from a spell checker and it makes you lazy and semi-literate -- and that's when it gets the right word, which isn't guaranteed. Do it the old fashioned way. A dictionary enables you to see the word in context and the words related to it, so you take in more info and develop more feel for language. Hard copy dictionaries are cheap, and you can use Merriam Webster or SOED free online. But even their subscription services cost peanuts. You don't want to end up like some of the dolts at the BBC who think "coruscating" means "excoriating." Had they been in the habit of looking up big words before using them, they'd have learned a lot.
5. An efficient paper note system. I've been through a few, believe me -- loose leaf, clipboards, notebooks, the lot. In the end, I learned to work backwards from the desired result. You need to make notes when ideas strike you. You also need to be able to organise those notes in a way that lets you find and use the information later. I use pen (or pencil) and paper, but the format depends on the location. Nothing is universal for me, so I keep a small clipboard with a pilot's light pen (not a white light -- I won't bore you with why that's preferable) by the bed, because I always have ideas when I'm falling asleep; a Midori Traveler notebook on my desk, because it fits into any bag as well as laying flat on the desk, plus the inserts can customized, and then taken out and filed, any way you like: and 3 x 5 card jotters in the car and in other rooms. I also have a waterproof paper pad in the shower, because that’s where a lot of my best ideas strike me. Having something to hand everywhere is essential because by the time you find a pen and paper, you'll have forgotten what you were thinking. Keeping lots of manual notes means you also need the discipline to file and/ or transcribe them into some kind of system. (See below.) That's not a bad thing to learn in itself.
(Update, January 2018: in the time since I wrote the para above, I’ve also used a Hobonichi Techo Cousin, a Hobonichi Weeks, assorted Kokuyo exercise books, and an Atoma loose-leaf system. I’ve even used Exacompta FAF pads, the tear-off desk pads whose paper is held in place by brass screws and prevented from skidding around the desk by rubber feet so that you can rip off a sheet with a Gallic flourish. In the end, whatever paper I scribble notes on now ends up in a manila file and is transcribed to DEVONthink (see below) at the end of the week.This seems to be the best compromise for me.)
6. Software. I swear by Scrivener. I bloody love it. I want to be buried with it. It’s at its best in Mac, the Windows version is almost as fully featured, and there’s an old Linux version available on the user forum that’s been kept alive by enthusiasts. (You can open any Scriv folder on another platform.) Scrivener is more for pro writers and people who have to produce big, complex docs, and it requires a bit of effort to learn all its many wonderful ways, but it repays the effort. If you want to get cracking with it right away rather than spend time on tutorials, though, it’s easy to plunge into its simplest tasks and still feel the benefit. There are similar apps that promise similar things, but I’ve tried them all and returned to Scrivener. It’s as near perfect a writer’s toolbox as you’ll find. And there’s an iOS version that syncs. What more could you ask for?
(Update, February 2017: I’ve also come to love and admire DEVONthink as a companion app to Scrivener. (Caveat: it’s Mac only.) If Scrivener is the all-singing, all-dancing, you-can’t-bend-it writing tool that you can also load with your notes and research, then DEVONthink is the notes and research tool that you can also write in. Like Scriv, DT is as simple or as complex as you want to make it. As you’ve read in point 5, I make notes everywhere, all the time, and with whatever comes to hand, but eventually all those fragments have to be collated in a searchable format. I’d been using NoteBook 4, mainly because of its Multitext function that just logged every word you typed and indexed it without any need to add tags yourself. If I vaguely recalled making a note about armadillos years ago but had no idea where I’d filed it, all I had to do was search Multitext for armadillo and all the instances of the word would pop up with their context, and then a click would take me to the page. Sadly, NoteBook 4 went the way of the dodo when its developer moved on, and rather than commit my years of notes to an unsupported app on borrowed time, I decided to jump ship. I tried every alternative notebook app I could find, many of them elegant but utterly bloody useless for essential stuff like searches and clippings. They were either all fur coat and no knickers, or they were tied to some subscription service. Then I trialled DEVONthink. I’d seen it around but never realised that under its Windows-y, carthorse GUI there was a racehorse app of considerable elegance, speed, and stamina. It was exactly what I needed. It ain’t glam visually, but it does more stuff than I ever thought I needed. I have the Pro version, but the Personal one is more than adequate, and if you’re mega-serious or a company, there’s an Office version with OCR and other bells’n’whistles. All three have an AI component if you feel like using it. (Not the BB variety, in case you Halo fans are getting excited, but maybe that’s for the best.) It also syncs well with its iOS sibling. Embrace it, persist with learning its ways via the incredibly useful tutorials section, and love it.)
7. A change of wall. Never underestimate the power of changing what you look at while you work. A PR colleague referred to it as "staring at a new wall." Such are the complexities of the brain -- you can kickstart it into new pathways simply by changing the other stimuli it's subjected to. That might mean moving your desk, or going somewhere else to write. That in turn might mean switching from a computer to a notebook. But it does work.
Anyway, like I say -- your mileage not only may vary but almost certainly will. Don't be afraid to try out new methods and kit. You'll know what's right for you when you find it.