Riding the pencil

The pencil attached itself to the fingers of my right hand and seized control. My hand was riding the pencil, which had an agenda of its own, independent of my editorial mind.

The pencil wrote. And wrote. And wrote. When it was finished, I dropped what remained of it on the desk and went for a walk in the sunshine.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “riding the pencil.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

10 thoughts on “Riding the pencil”

  1. I’ll do my best to explain what happened between Julie and me the summer before everything changed. I had been riding the pencil trying to finish my novel about a Neoceltic socialite who had just convinced Ian McKellan and Cate Blanchett to engage in a psychic threesome with her when Julie showed up at my back door with coffee and Aster, a 70-year old hypnotist with blue hair and a pink halter top.

  2. I certainly hope it wasn’t that crazy “automatic” writing that seized my hand this time. That ghost writing….spirits taking control of my hand and sending messages to their loved ones still in this life. Yes, I used to be a nun but today I am a psychic and these “fits” seem to possess me every once in a while!

  3. It’s so hard to stay current with the language now that I’ve passed 79. Not that it was easier two years ago. A woman in a knit shop, “Tomorrow I’m opening Pencil Test, a new bra shop, right across the street.” Everyone else got it. My daughter laughed when I asked what it meant.

  4. Occasionally, when the head brims over with ideas, sentences, broken phrases, all clamouring to be released from their bony cranial prison, then ‘pencil riding ‘takes over. And my , what a ride it is!! More like a gallop, breathlessly, spanning page upon upon, eager to shed its weight. At the end of it all, it is as Salman Rushdie writes of his grandmothers’ tirade in Midnights’ Children. “The clouds have run out of moisture and there are puddles of rain water everywhere.” Sheer catharsis…….

  5. All the colours of the rainbow were displayed in the box of coloured pencils that my Father had left on his desk. To my five year old mind they were the gateway to my artistic dreams. I tentatively began scrawling a green line then a red line followed by blue all over the walls and doors. Excited delight as I began “riding the pencil”, to colour and express my extreme happiness in being alive in a child’s world of magic.

  6. It’s been a while since I haven’t been riding the pencil, but once I start, I get a great surge of energy that allows the flexing of my brain and my imagination to fly. It feels liberating and cathartic at the same time. I feel that spewing your thoughts on paper or typing them on a computer screen is therapeutic and uplifting.

  7. Riding the pencil is uplifting because writing takes place. Writing and riding the pencil allows creativity to come alive and cruise at the writer’s discretion. The writer, when being creative is on a tactful journey to express profound sentiments and capture attention. Riding the pencil is great; it awakens everyone.

  8. Adalbert Eberstark is a proud owner of an unique Andalusian horse. His horse is strong and elegant and has all the qualities of a pure Andalusian breed but his colour. His head is graphite and his body cremello. Despite being recognized colours of a pure Andalusian breed, they were not supposed to be mixed. Since people started to make fun of his horse during breeders competition he stopped from participating. Despite being a winner Herr Eberstark couldn’t stand people saying he was “riding the pencil” anymore.

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