A Fair Shake: The Field Notes Bic Clic

A little shorter review this week because there’s a new member of the household who demands our full attention! Meet FLAPJACK! He’s our 9-week old Silky Terrier whose middle name should be Houdini. He scaled his playpen on day two, and is keeping us on our toes. We love him to bits.

NOW, for the review…

My latest package from Field Notes included one of the Field Notes branded Bic Clic pens. As I was about to reflexively toss it into a mug of pens, it dawned on me that I’ve never spent much time writing with one. I give them away, I have them lying around, I stuff them into pen cups, but I don’t write with them. It was about time to give this retractable blast from the past a fair shake.

I spent a day using this pen only— an unheard of feat! (Sometimes I change pens in the middle of a sentence. No lie.)

It turns out, there are a lot of things I like about this pen. It feels comfortable in hand— nice taper, easy to grip. I’m smitten by the retro look and simple Field Notes branding. The clip, with its embossed Bic branding, is perfectly adequate. The knock functions reliably and with a solid sounding “click” (thus the name). The refill FEELS smooth and is not draggy. It’s easy to carry and inexpensive, which means it’s a good candidate for a “take it everywhere” pen. Lose one? Not a big deal.

There is, though, one flaw. And for me, it’s the fatal flaw.

The refill is merely adequate— just as it’s always been. There’s a lot of white space in the line, and the “black” ink is a blah gray. The line is not rich or solid— two things that I demand from my ballpoints. Since discovering the uni-ball Jetstream and the like, that’s pretty much the standard by which I gauge all other ballpoints. The Bic Clic, despite the attributes of its simple and iconic pen body, just doesn’t deliver a memorable writing experience.

Schmidt EasyFlow 9000 refill vs. Bic Clic’s refill

Oh, how I’d love an ink upgrade in these pens!

A good errand pen

I posted a comment on the Field Nuts Facebook page asking if folks regularly use these pens and the answers were plentiful and varied. Some people love them, others don’t. Some use them for work all day long, while others leave them in their car or purse as an “emergency” pen.

Because I do love the Field Notes branding and the pen’s easy-to-throw-in-pocket form factor, I’m going to make a point of using these pens a little more, if only when I’m running errands and might have to jot something down. And maybe I’ll set a few free in the world— in a bookstore or coffee shop. I think that’s what these pens are best at— spreading a little Field Notes love.

Do YOU love and use the Field Notes Bic Clic, or, like me, do they cause you to reach for something better? Do you know of a refill hack that elevates this pen’s writing performance?

Be sure to let me know.

One Strategy to Improve Your Handwriting

Thank you to my friends at JetPens for sponsoring this post. Because of their sponsorship, the calligraphy supplies pictured in this post were free to me. I was not otherwise compensated, and this post reflects my personal experience with the products. 
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I don’t really think too much about my handwriting, though I generally like how it looks. Though some folks have wonderfully consistent handwriting (Hi, Azizah! Hi, Brad!), mine varies depending on the pen, the paper, and my mood. If I’m in a rush, it’s not that great. If I’m taking my time and loving the pen, ink, and paper I’m using, it looks pretty good. It IS, I will admit, MUCH better than it used to be “back in the day.” I’ve received some lovely compliments (always appreciated!) as well as a couple of blog comments asking for handwriting advice, so here are my thoughts.

All through high school and into college, I had handwriting that teetered one way, then tottered another. It was a random mess. I didn’t really think all that much about it until I took an elective Creative Writing class. Victoria, the girl who sat next to me, had beautiful handwriting— a mature, gorgeous script. (She always used rich brown ink, I now recall.) Her poetry was a little “meh,” but I drooled over her handwriting. Mine looked like a fifth-grader had scrawled the lines. I wanted that handwriting. (She could keep her poems.)

So I picked up an inexpensive Sheaffer calligraphy set and a calligraphy workbook and spent hours hunched over practice paper. HOURS. I never DID become a very accomplished calligrapher—school and life eventually got in the way— but after all those hours of practice, a funny thing happened. My random, immature, tilt-a-whirl handwriting became more uniform, tidier, and infinitely more mature. It wasn’t Victoria’s, but it was a much-improved version of my own. Finally, I had handwriting that had a bit of style.

Through the years I’ve informally worked to refine my handwriting further— by writing, writing, writing, and writing. And while it’s true that writing with a fountain pen isn’t going to magically improve your handwriting, I think that if you’re using tools that you love, you’ll practice longer and harder. Anyway, I know that’s true for me. I’ve filled up plenty of Rhodia pads just writing nonsense, forming letters over and over again, writing my name.

At the 2013 DC Pen Show, I took a 3-hour Copperplate workshop with Deborah Basel and re-kindled my love of calligraphy practice. I could sit forever and write one letter over and over and over again— which is basically what Deb had us doing. In the course of those 3-hours, I went from making tentative and scratchy “O’s” to forming letters that looked pretty decent. I eventually relaxed my death grip on the oblique nib holder and let my writing flow. Fun stuff! But alas, the Copperplate textbook I purchased from Deborah has been gathering dust since that show.

I recently noticed that JetPens is carrying Speedball calligraphy products, so using a little sponsorship money, I purchased the Speedball Textbook, a Speedball Oblique Pen Set, and bottle of Higgins Eternal Black Ink. Time to blow the dust off of my practice books and hunker down. The Speedball Textbook’s ninety-six pages cover the history of calligraphy as well a brief overview of several alphabet styles. This is a good book for picking out a style that interests you, then dabbling in it a bit. For in-depth study, you’ll probably need a guide devoted entirely to the alphabet style that speaks to you.

The Speedball Oblique Pen Set comes with a plastic nib holder and six nibs— perfect for getting your Copperplate practice underway. The Eternal Higgins Black Ink is the same ink that I used in the Copperplate workshop. If Deborah Basel uses it, it’s good enough for me. I’m looking forward to carving out some time to slow down with pen and ink and practice sheets to really work on my Copperplate script. Who knows what changes it might bring to my handwriting?

SOOOO…how do you improve your handwriting? The same way you get to Carnegie Hall— practice, practice, practice.

Too fine?! The Pilot Metropolitan/Lizard/Fine nib

I’ve been a fan of the Pilot Metropolitan since its introduction, and have a handful of the medium nibbled versions in Black/Plain, Gold/Dot, Silver/Zig-Zag, White Tiger, and Purple Leopard. (Might’ve gone a LITTLE bit overboard there, but they ARE kind of addictive in a I-must-have-one-of-each kind of way.)

As you’ve undoubtedly read in numerous other reviews, the Pilot Metropolitan really is a phenomenal value. For just $14.50-$15, you get a very solid, superbly performing pen, along with a squeeze converter and one cartridge. It’s the real deal at an amazingly low price. The metal body has a very nice heft (26g overall; 17g body, 9g cap) that is equally pleasant to write with posted or unposted. The snap-cap issues a satisfying “CLICK” when you cap the pen and posts without a hint of wishy-washiness. Rock solid, is what the Metropolitan is. Obviously, I’m a bit of a Metro groupie.

The complete package

SOOOO, when Pilot recently introduced the Metropolitan with a FINE nib, I added the Taupe/Lizard model to a JetPens refill order to boost myself up to the $25 free shipping threshold. The pen arrived last week and I’ve been spending time with it ever since. I decided to forgo the cartridge, and instead filled the converter with Pilot’s Iroshizuku tsukushi (horsetail), which is a good match for the lizard pattern accent band. The lizardish body band is a deep brown that blends well with the taupe body. Others, you may have read, are not exactly head-over heels in love with the animal pattern models, but I think most of them are kind of cool and not too gimmicky looking.

There’s a faction of Metropolitan fans that’s been crying out for a fine-nibbed version of the Metropolitan but I wasn’t one of them. The original models, available only with Pilot’s medium nib— which is equivalent to a western fine— suited me well. But I was curious. Thus the order.

Like every Pilot fountain pen, my Lizard Metropolitan started RIGHT up, without a skip or stutter or hesitation. Pilot pens do not disappoint. The line it put down is supremely sharp and crisp, and felt even finer than the nib on my Kaküno (also fine and also from Pilot). In fact, it felt a little TOO fine, a little too sharp. Not scratchy, but sharp. VERY sharp. Hmmmm.

I’ve been a fine/extra-fine person forever, and only recently branched out into broader nibs, but something in me has changed. I’ve gotten used to the buttery smoothness of those broader nibs and the way that the wetter/thicker line of a medium or broad nib brings out the shading properties of many inks. Writing with such a needle-like nib felt weird. Not bad, just weird.

I kept thinking, “It’s not you, it’s me.” “You’re a really great pen, I’m just not into you.” I did not say these things out loud because that would be weird. But I thought them. (Still weird, isn’t it?!)

BUT…that’s not the end of the story. For the past few days I’ve been using this particular pen when writing in my Field Notes (California State Fair and Night Sky editions) and my opinion took a 180-degree turn. The super-fine nib suits the Field Notes paper perfectly. Whereas a medium or broad nib would be an inky mess on Field Notes paper, with this Metro, there’s little to no feathering and just a TOUCH of bleed-through. And you know what? When I went back to writing on my Rhodia pad, I liked the way it felt on that paper, too. Very precise. Very crisp.

In Field Notes, w/ Iroshizuku tsukushi

Initially, I thought the Metropolitan’s fine nib was TOO fine, but a little time and the right paper changed my mind. It’s probably not a pen I’ll use for letter writing, but for writing out my daily work and home lists, journaling, and jotting down appointments in my homemade Field Notes calendar, it’s just the ticket. It’s also another “candidate” pen for my conference later in the summer (low cost, yet still a great writer).

The Pilot Metropolitan— fine pen, fine nib, fine price.

And I am, it turns out, fine with all of that.

And now for something completely different…

My sister and I. Have you ever seen such happy-go-lucky kids?!

I was always a skinny kid— could eat anything and everything and barely gained an ounce. In college, I tried to donate blood but didn’t weigh enough. The lower limit was 110 pounds. I sort of figured I’d always be this way.

I sort of figured wrong.

As the decades passed, my weight crept upwards, mostly due to eating for comfort rather than for fuel. Stressed? Let’s eat. Tired? Let’s eat. Happy? Worried? Sad? Let’s eat. Ice cream filled me up, and ultimately, filled me out. Bad morning at work? Let’s spend the lunch hour reading in my car at McDonald’s. Afterwards, I felt both better and worse. Mostly worse.

In my head, I thought I exercised because I do a lot of running around at work and I walk the dogs every night. Truth is, our two oldest dogs meander more than they walk, so an evening stroll involves a lot of standing still with some bursts of strolling. Let’s just say that my heart isn’t exactly pounding when we get back to the house. But in my head, I thought I exercised.

I knew this path was not a good one— that I didn’t like how I looked and felt— so I’d pledge to do something about it….tomorrow. Except tomorrow kept getting pushed off and the changes never happened. How could I resist the allure of an iced coffee (cream AND sugar) or a glazed donut? I felt powerless. I felt bad. But not bad ENOUGH, apparently, to change.

Why, you may ask, am I posting this on my pen blog? Well…it’s the only active blog I have, AND there is a pen & ink connection to this story.

Back in September 2013, I watched Brian Goulet’s “30 by 30 by 30” video on Ink Nouveau where he discussed the mental and physical transformation that resulted in him dropping 30 pounds well BEFORE his 30th birthday. Everything he said in that video hit home— how he hated how he looked and felt, how he got sick of his own excuses, how he vowed to make a change. His words hit home, but still, I stalled and let the same old excuses loop through my brain.

I didn’t act in September or October or November or December, but Brian’s words lit a tiny flame— a flame that smoldered through the first four months of 2014. (Wouldn’t want to do anything rash, now would we?!)

In April, a small panel of co-workers spoke about their experiences after participating in the Whole Life Challenge. Their honest stories of how the 8-week challenge helped them break bad habits, exercise more, and lose some weight ignited the spark that Brian’s words lit so many months before. I was, finally and officially, sick of myself and my tired excuses. During their talk, I decided to go ALL IN— from spark to inferno in the course of an hour.

Starting on May 3rd, I did just that. I joined a team of 40+ co-workers who are participating in the latest edition of the Whole Life Challenge, which runs until June 28th. We JUST passed the half-way mark and I can’t believe how dramatically things have changed in just four weeks.

• I’m down about 10 pounds and couple of belt notches.
• I’ve lost my desire for foods that were mainstay treats (ice cream! fries! soda!).
• Our shopping cart is 180 degrees different than it used to be. Just veg and meat and fruit and fresh goodness. NO sugar!
• Our dinners are tastier and more varied. We’ve climbed out of a heckuva food rut that relied heavily on pasta, white potatoes, and white rice. I made applesauce (with cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and nutmeg) in my crockpot on Saturday and it’s the best treat ever.
• I’m exercising at least 10 minutes a day (the minimum to earn my daily points)…usually much more…either in the fitness center at work or riding my previously moth-balled bike.
• I HAVE WILLPOWER! (Who knew?)

After just a month, I feel physically (and mentally) lighter. I have more energy. My acid reflux is gone. My headaches are less frequent and less severe. It’s only been four weeks, but I’m 100% sure that that changes I’m making are forever. This feels like a little miracle. Or maybe a big miracle.

Life is funny— you never know where a particular interest will take you. My love of pens and paper and ink has brought so many cool and wonderful people into my life— people I consider friends whether we’ve met in real life or not. We write letters, share pictures and stories, and bits of our lives. We entertain and inspire. We comfort and kid. We offer sympathy and understanding and advice. We can also, I’m finding out, change each other’s lives.

I’m writing here to offer Brian Goulet my gratitude for putting his story of struggle, denial, and ultimately, success out there. Even though it took MONTHS for me to take action, his video planted a seed that showed me what’s possible when you commit yourself to making a change, when you flip off the switch of denial and flip ON the switch of accountability and action.

I also thank the other members of my team for sharing their triumphs and struggles as we move through these eight weeks together, as well as the founders of the Whole Life Challenge, Andy and Michael, for giving me the rules, tools, competitive fun, and team support to help me FINALLY help myself.

I feel repaired, restored, and very, very grateful.

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Edited to add: The next Whole Life Challenge starts September 13th. I’d be happy to form a team with anyone who’s interested. We COULD call ourselves “Ink Well.” (haha!)