Monokaki A5 Notebook

Having this Monokaki A5 notebook arrive in my letterbox a little while ago was indeed a pleasant surprise. Picked up in a Japanese stationery store by a friend during a recent trip overseas, I was the lucky recipient of a notebook I had not come across either in stationery stores or online.

image

Although I knew nothing about the Monokaki range of notebooks (Monokaki meaning “writer” in Japanese), the quality of both paper and overall manufacturing was immediately apparent. Also, given the decorative border around the front cover included pencil, fountain pen and inkwell motifs, I was further encouraged as to the likely merits of the paper stock, and its ability to handle my favourite writing instruments.

Yes, I was a little excited about this one.

Background

Seeing the unfamiliar Monokaki brand name immediately sent me on an internet search for a little more information, an endeavour which also had me thankful for Chrome’s translation button when viewing the manufacturer’s website. There isn’t as much information readily available compared with some of the more common brands, however what I did find was indeed of interest.

UK store Choosing Keeping (online or 128 Columbia Rd, London) provided some background, which included a little dig at another major brand’s claim about being a notebook for novelists:

The one exception being that while other’s marketing campaigns are entirely fabricated, the Monokaki notebook’s paper – Kotobukiya paper – was really created as a bespoke product for Japanese author Fumio Niwa by the company’s present day owner’s grandmother in 1939 and used by countless authors and poets including no less than two Literature Nobel prize winners and one nominee.

I’d encourage you to click-through and read a little more, as the page also includes information on the company, which continues to operate and manufacture the notebooks from the Sakura district in Tokyo. The 1940’s woodblock cover design apparently comes from Japanese manga artist Ryo Takagi, commissioned to create a design of “traditional Japanese atmosphere – to include familiar stationery and writing instruments”. I think you’d agree the design goal was achieved.

On a more practical note, and certainly of great interest to many of us in the pen community:

The manuscript paper was indeed designed with novelists in mind for its excellent performance when used with fountain pens – no bleeding, no feathering

So all in all, things were looking good, with both first impressions and an initial foray into learning a little more about the brand yielding positive results.

For reference, some links (I’d recommend Chrome for opening those in italics and translating the result):

Update, 13 December 2015: I have now updated the information above which incorrectly stated Choosing Keeping were an online store. The store has been in touch to advise they also have a brick and mortar shop specialising in classic stationery and notebooks at 128 Columbia Rd, London as well. Thanks Julia!

Look and Feel

If I consider what actually is my preferred or favourite “look” for a notebook, I don’t believe I really have one to be honest. There are times when an understated black might be what I am after, yet other times it might be something a little more individual or unique. The Monokaki range is itself a little unique in that it probably fits both these descriptions.

I do enjoy a little variety from time to time in what I am carrying, however not at the expense of the writing experience. Considering this, I do have what I’d call a spectrum of tolerance here. By that I mean certain notebooks I’m happy to use even if it means finer nibs and certain inks only, as long as things are not too restrictive. Mind you, that particular subset of nibs, inks and pens must perform without further compromise, otherwise the notebook will be gently set aside and see no further use.

Although I’ve probably begun to drift a little off track, my intended point is to merely highlight the fact there are no real compromises with the Monokaki’s paper — to any of my pens, nibs or inks, as you’ll read about a little further below.

imageimage

I do love the look of this notebook, with its relatively understated, yet very individual cover design. The contrast of the binding tape complements the unique monokaki_traditional_japanborder and designs contained within it. Even the font used on the cover branding, combined with the central symbol and what I believe to be traditional Japanese lettering (part of manufacturer Asakusa Masuya’s logo) add to the overall design aesthetic of the front cover. The back cover is also not forgotten, containing a central symbol, with both corners also demonstrating fairly intricate detailing.

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While I am not entirely certain if some of these symbols carry significant meaning over and above their decorative effect, the overall feeling I have about the character of the design is one of old world Japanese tradition or history. I have no specific basis for that, however that is the feeling I keep coming back to when I look at it, and is something I find quite compelling.

In the hand, there is a feeling of quality evident in the construction. With time, I’d expect some wear and tear around the corners of the front and back cover if it were going in and out of a bag on a daily basis, however it would more than likely be filled in short order as well if that were the case. That said, I have no real concerns about the overall durability of the cover, if a little care is taken along the way.

imageThe paper is thread-bound and glued in small sections (apparently to assist flatter opening), and externally reinforced with tape along the spine, which not only provides additional support, but I believe enhances the overall external look. Additional stiffening is also provided by a second sheet of card stock inside the front and back cover, providing a kind of double cover for want of a better term. monokaki_dbl_coverThis again adds to the overall sturdy feel of the notebook, providing additional rigidity to the cover.

The pages themselves are lined, with a larger margin at the top of the page. The only additional markings are 10 mm graduations marked along the top and bottom line (which are themselves bold), allowing the accurate addition of a vertical margin if you so desire. monokaki_vert_margAt a guess I’d say this may be present to allow vertical rulings to be created for a grid of 24×18 boxes, similar to the Masuya manuscript paper from the same manufacturer.

I do not find the absence of other possible additions such as page numbering or date fields detracts in any way from either the look or the usefulness of the page. In fact, the simplicity of what is offered fits with its overall character.

Specifications

Courtesy Choosing Keeping:

  • Monokaki Notebook
  • A5 210 x 148 mm
  • Soft flexible washi paper card cover
  • Acid-free smooth light cream paper
  • Plain or ruled (lines 9 mm apart)
  • 160 pages
  • Fountain pen friendly cream paper
  • Thread-stitch bound in small sections for flat opening throughout
  • Sizes available
    • Large, B5 – 257 x 175 mm
    • Medium, A5 – 210 x 148 mm
    • Small, B6 – 182 x 128 mm
  • Price £12.00 ($AUD24.70)

Also available on Rakuten Global Market with a list price of $AUD12.56.

imageA word about the Masuya paper (English page link), which is used in the Monokaki range of notebooks (also referred to as Kotobukiya paper, with both terms used somewhat interchangeably from what I’ve read). Masuya manufacture 2 types of manuscript paper and have a range of 35 different products. Originally cream, the paper also comes in white, created to better reflect the light source — apparently coming about due to one of the previously mentioned “novelists” writing by a single spotlight.

From the site itself (unaltered):

Masuya in Asakusa is a traditional company successing Japanese hand-writing culture. We have various products made of high quality paper many famous writers have chosen. Japanese traditional design, unique touch…

Along with the rather unusual:

Feel Japaneseness through Masuya’s products.

It has been a little difficult to track down more detailed information about the Masuya paper used in the Monokaki line of notebooks, and you will note the absence of a gsm rating in the specifications above. The paper in this notebook is certainly far thinner than a 90 gsm Rhodia or Clairefontaine notebook, and also the 80 gsm softcover Leuchtturm1917 notebook I have been most recently using — by a considerable margin. Given Tomoe River paper weighs in at 52 gsm, then at a guess — and I repeat this is my own guess-timation only, this paper feels like it would be around 60 gsm. I may be way off the mark here, however it is very thin and very light compared to your standard “fountain pen friendly” notebooks — and is certainly closer in properties to Tomoe River than any other paper I have used to date.

Once written upon, the paper has a little of what I’d call that “crinkle”, reminiscent of Tomoe River paper, and does seem to have properties that lend me to think of it in similar ways. At times I feel I have turned one page when I have actually picked up two.

Needless to say, I like it — a lot.

Writing Performance

From my comments above, you probably can see what is coming here.

This paper is pretty amazing — particularly if you enjoy writing with fountain pens, meaning of course it handles pretty much anything else you care to throw at it as well. The exception of course being Sharpie markers and the like, where thin doesn’t always hold up to such an onslaught of saturated ink. For fountain pens though, this is some of the best paper I have written on since, well… since I’ve been concerned with such matters. As much as I loved my Rollbahn and Apica Notebooks of previous reviews, the paper in this one surpasses those.

monkaki_ink

For my paper requirements and preferences, this one is now certainly a favourite. Beyond the obvious shockers of horrendous feathering (my number one hate and deal-breaker), excessive bleed-though (a slightly lesser evil to me), and show through (perfectly acceptable to me for the most part), I’m sure we all have our favourites for various reasons.

monokaki_reverse_pageThe paper in this notebook has what I’d call a moderate amount of show through for darker and more saturated colours you might use. So in all likelihood, many of your fountain pens. Again if we compare it to Tomoe River, it has possibly a little more — but only just, assuming my eyes aren’t deceiving me.

Because the paper is so lightweight, although it has a little tooth to a gliding nib, there is no sinking in feeling from toothier, heavier-weighted paper. I’ve also noted in the past how on some heavier paper such as a Clairefontaine notebook, I feel as though the nib skates away from me a little, and what I gain in less resistance, also results in less control. There is none of that here — even with more rapid writing. To me it really is the best of both worlds. As far as feathering goes – what feathering? None of that here.

IMG_5250As far as the shade of paper is concerned, I’m a little picky here. Every time I try a notebook in the off-white/cream/yellowish spectrum, I begin by thinking: gee, this would be fantastic in white. However this is typically followed by filling up the notebook with all manner of ink colours and not thinking another thing of it. As you can see from the writing sample page, all of your colours will vividly show in all their glory.

One point I should make here, is that this is not a flat opening notebook, even through the middle third of the book. I have doubled it back and left it open in attempts to coax it a little flatter through the spine to no avail. While not a deal breaker for me, it is noticeable, and something which does get in the way of the writing experience somewhat. Something to consider in any event.

In summary, the writing experience is as close to a Tomoe River experience as you can get. Why is that relevant? Well, Tomoe River paper is popular and well regarded for a reason. Light weight paper, smooth without the slip, handles pretty much every ink and nib, a little show through yet no bleed or feathering. Sound familiar? Indeed it does, however applies equally well to the Masuya paper in this Monokaki notebook.

Probably the one thing about these types of paper that can sometimes be an issue is ink drying time. By comparison, the Monokaki on average dried a few seconds faster for a given ink — often at around the 15 seconds mark, versus 18-20 seconds for the Tomoe River. So again I found the overall performance quite similar.

Without a doubt this is great paper, and if you are at all able to get your hands on some, I highly recommend trying it out — whether in notebook or manuscript page format.

Conclusion

imageThe Monokaki A5 Notebook is indeed a joy to use, largely due to the writing experience of the Masuya paper itself — and isn’t that pretty much the key to our love of pens and paper? True, I have a little flexibility as far as my specific paper requirements for writing, and this Monokaki Notebook sits very close to the favourite end of that spectrum.

To make it pretty much perfect? There is probably nothing I’d change about the properties of the paper — for fountain pens it is pretty much spot on. I’d perhaps tweak the binding to allow truly flat opening; opt for a truer white in paper shade; and finally, have a local store or online seller stock the range so I can easily replenish my supplies when they dwindle!

This is certainly a great notebook, and with 160 pages to play with, will serve me well for a little while longer — and that can only be a good thing. I often get the impression there is a whole world of Japanese stationery that I am entirely oblivious to — which is also a good thing, for it simply means there will always be more to discover.


A Great Day

As I sit and write this on a quiet Sunday morning, it is two days after Fountain Pen Day, now celebrated since 2012 on the first Friday in November.

A fantastic idea, celebrating a wonderful hobby, interest or obsession — depending on your particular inclination. Perhaps in some ways it is also a timeless representation of days gone by, yet one which endures with a great deal of vigour today.

With so many well-timed and eloquent tributes both by word and photograph appearing in my social media feeds on Friday, why a post two days after the fact? I had the inkling of a post in my mind early in the week when the countdown was on in earnest, various giveaways and reminders teeming through the online pen community. Truth be told, I simply didn’t get my act together and actually write something in time. A quick handwritten post to Twitter or Instagram perhaps? Well, I sort of missed that as well.

To me, that indicates two things. The first that springs to mind is I have the luxury of writing — or not — as I please, given the nature of, and lack of any formal commitments I have with this blog. That very fact is something for which I am often thankful. Probably more important though, and relevant to the topic at hand, is the very nature of the fountain pen itself.

You see, from what I can tell, using (or even the act of buying) a fountain pen is something that clearly brings great joy and excitement to many, many people. And so it might, for I include myself in this group. The online pen communities are such a big part of things, and at times it seems these analogue and digital worlds are so intertwined that one could not exist without the other. In reality of course that is probably more a one way street.

The online world however is the ultimate enhancement to this great hobby of ours, yet the very nature of something like a fountain pen is also quite a personal and at times introspective object. Many of us take time to handwrite correspondence in a time when an email or tweet provides an immediacy not available some years ago. Some of the best discussions I have had involving pens have been through handwritten letters with those who have no social media presence at all. The irony of this — and back to my enhancement point above, is these friendships were initially formed via this very blog, and would almost certainly have never occurred without it (the discovery of course, not the friendship).

So how did I celebrate fountain pen day? Well, I picked up one of my favourites and wrote with it. Which one? That doesn’t really matter. What did I write? Looking back it was a couple of quotes, both of which are apt in relation to this post, so those I will share:

None of us can have as many virtues as the fountain pen, or half its cussedness; but we can try.

– Mark Twain

So true, for at times these joyous instruments might be a little high maintenance— yet all of that pales, whether it be when the nib hits paper in the arc of a flourishing tail, or seeing familiar handwriting on the envelope face in your letterbox. So I do not deny it might occasionally be about the perfect Instagram shot, yet at the end of the day it’s really about the pen, and equally so about the people:

Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you’ll look back and realise they were the big things.

– Robert Brault

I hope you had a great Fountain Pen Day on Friday, I know I certainly did.

 

Update, 8 November 2015: I had originally attributed the second quote above to author Kurt Vonnegut, however it was kindly brought to my attention this is incorrect, and was originally written by freelance writer Robert Brault


Pilot Prera Fountain Pen

Much of what I see online through blog posts, forums and social media forms my initial opinion on a pen, however sometimes I wonder why the reality differs to such a great degree upon having it in my hand. There are of course many times where my perception and the reality are entirely congruous, yet this was certainly not the case with the subject of this post — the Pilot Prera fountain pen.

prera_cap_nib

Maybe it was because I haven’t seen a lot of Prera reviews, or perhaps I simply wanted it to be a certain way. In the end, it was simply an erroneous assumption on my part.

What exactly am I talking about here? Well, although pen dimensions are readily available on just about any retail site you care to visit, I had not realised just how small the Prera line of fountain pens are.

The pen you see in this post was passed on to me by a kind reader downsizing his pen collection, after some email correspondence from myself which mentioned I was thinking of buying one. I was therefore lucky enough to add this pen to my collection at no cost. Had I proceeded down the path of purchasing one myself and gone through a more detailed research process, I would have likely ruled it out as a pen for me.

The reason? Well, as I have mentioned in other posts, I prefer to use the majority my fountain pens without the cap posted, and of course a smallish pen likely to render posting a necessity has some convincing to do if I’m going to buy it. To finish up this point and get on with some more details, suffice to say I love this pen, and use it often — posted. Go figure.

Look and Feel

As I’ve mentioned above, the Prera would be classed more so as a “pocket” pen, rather than a “mini” as such, and given its stature, I’d say this is an accurate description. As you’ll see from my post about the Pilot Custom Heritage 92, I do like a pen with blue, silver and transparency in it’s styling.

Given the size of the pen, it’s no surprise the cap and clip are proportionally short. The metal clip is only 40 mm long, which is equivalent in length to the white inner cap sealing the nib, visible through the transparent outer cap. Though not a major issue, it is a pity this prevents the nib being on show through the cap as well.

prera_under_nib

If you are someone who prefers clean simple lines on a pen, the overall appearance of the Prera may not suit entirely, and I think this is a combination both of design — and indirectly — its size. As you can see, the trim, accents and labelling create what is a fairly “busy” looking cap, and with its short stature, may seem a little cluttered for some. The body itself is somewhat less so, however with the cap posted of course you end up with the same look simply on the other end of the pen (a statement straight from the files of the bleeding obvious if ever there was one). I wouldn’t say this bothers me, however for some it might.

The overall aesthetics of the pen in relation to the distribution of accents at each end, metal bands along both cap and body, and transparent demonstrator barrel provide an interesting, yet not over the top look to the Prera. A great looking steel Pilot nib rounds out the pen, complementing the metal clip and banding nicely.

prera_v_sapporoI must admit I do find the sizing and proportions of the Prera to be a just little odd. I have it sitting next to a Sailor Pro Gear Slim (Sapporo) as I write this, and although the two are very similar in size, the truncated finial at the end of the Prera’s cap throws the proportions a little out of balance. With just a couple of mm more after the end of the clip ring similar the Sailor, the entire pen would look a little more — well…balanced.

That said, a good question to ask at this point is why should all pens look the same — a very valid one for of course they shouldn’t. If we all preferred the same style of pens what a boring world it would be.

Key Specifications

Courtesy Jet Pens

  • Manufacturer: Pilot
  • Model: Prera
  • Weight: 0.6 ounces (17 grams)
  • Body Material: Acrylic
  • Cap: Snap On
  • Clip: Metal
  • Diameter Grip: 10.6 mm
  • Diameter Max: 12.0 mm
  • Filling Mechanism: Converter, Cartridge – Proprietary Pilot
  • Grip: Plastic
  • Length Capped: 12.0 cm / 4.7 inches
  • Length Posted: 13.4 cm / 5.3 inches
  • Length Uncapped: 10.8 cm / 4.3 inches
  • Nib: Steel

Prices at time of writing:

  • JetPens $US38.00 ($AU52.00)
  • Cult Pens £33.29 ($AU70.00)
  • Engeika $US29.70 ($40.00)
  • similar prices to be found with eBay sellers

Writing performance

I made mention in a recent Wiser Web Wednesday post about the positive aspects of a nib that simply writes perfectly (in that case a review of the Pelikan P200 on the Pelikan’s Perch), and does so each and every time you pick it up. I’ve typically found Pilot nibs are generally part of this group.

prera_writingIt is for this very reason (and the snap on cap), I have found the Prera to be a fantastic day to day office pen1. In a daily writer, I need something reliable (no false starts, skips, ink blobs or leaks), which I can keep capped (to ensure it remains reliable), yet is quick to pick up and use — which pretty well ensures my go-to’s will be caps of the non-threaded variety. As you can imagine, the domain of the Prera, Pilot Metropolitan, and Lamy 2000 (a joyful every day pen if ever there was one). The rotation here also includes an ever-changing roster of gel pens, rollerballs and my trusty P8126 filled Retro 51.

prera_nibI don’t really have a great deal more to say specifically about the medium, steel Pilot nib on this Prera, apart from the fact it is a beautiful writer and performs straight out of the blocks every time. As you’d expect, the medium nib is somewhat finer than those on my European pens, and although quite resistant to flex, there is just enough “give” to make it extremely comfortable to use over longer periods.

There is a very small step down to the section from the barrel, however the absence of threads given the snap-on design of the cap ensures a very smooth grip. Personally I feel the surety of the grip is enhanced by this step, as well as providing a feedback point to align your fingers and thumb. I cannot see this being an issue regardless of your preference or grip style.

Whether or not a pen will work for me posted, is of course about balance rather than overall weight, though a very heavy pen will take its toll over a longer writing session. I’d say I have a fairly broad range of pen weights I find comfortable, with only very, very light or overly heavy pens a problem.

The Prera is well weighted at 0.6oz (17 grams), and reasonably well-balanced when posted — a necessity given its size. A point to note here is a good proportion of the weight is distributed fairly high on the pen with the cap posted, given its metal clip, final, and rings. As a result, the centre of gravity seems a little high, so depending on your particular style of grip and pen alignment, is something to keep in mind. In its favour here though is the short overall length, which places most of the pen down in the hand of the user rather than out the top — the main reason I found the Prera quite a useable pen when posted.

A final note on the size and posting brings us back to the Sailor Sapporo I mentioned earlier — a far better balance for me when posted, despite weighing in at 19.7 grams. Ok — time to move on.

L to R: Pilot Custom Heritage 92; Prera; Sailor Sapporo; Pilot Metropolitan

L to R: Pilot Custom Heritage 92; Prera; Sailor Sapporo; Pilot Metropolitan

A couple of days ago I returned to the Pilot Metropolitan (M Nib) after the cartridge in the Prera ran out, and the change was probably a little telling.

Hands down I find the Metropolitan is a far better pen for me, fitting my preference for use without posting the cap, having a nib essentially the equal of the Prera’s, and of course the price. The Metropolitan can be picked up for less than half the cost of the Prera, and for me, is a better overall pen. So if you are looking for value for money without needing to compromise, I think the Metropolitan is definitely the way to go.

Closing thoughts

My advice if you are thinking about picking up a Prera? Know you will be buying a high quality fountain pen — just know it will be on the small side when comparing to many others in your collection, and if you are a strict non-poster, this pen most likely won’t be for you.

As I’ve mentioned above, for me, and I’d argue for many potential buyers, the Pilot Metropolitan is an equally good pen and offers much better value for money. The two pens could not be more different in size and appearance however, and it is your own particular preferences here that the real choice will be made.

Again just remember (note to self) — the Prera is on the small side.


 

  1. The paper? At my desk unusually enough are the standard A4 bulk buy Staples legal pads. Miraculously they hold all but the wettest, broadest nibs — and certainly all of the pens listed here. ↩︎

Fountain Pen Nibs: Of Steel and Gold

We’ve all read them, and I’ve certainly written them. Words in praise of the gold fountain pen nib. Certainly not without foundation, however a great writing experience — in my opinion at least, is not the exclusive domain of 14k and beyond.

I should note at the outset what this post is not — in part because of my intention in writing it, and in part because I do not possess the knowledge, nor experience to go deeply into the technical aspects of the subject at hand.

This post is certainly not an in-depth look at nib construction and manufacturing, or the development these aspects as modern pens have evolved. I have also not addressed how things might differ if you prefer very broad, wet nibs as opposed to the medium to fine bunch which make up the majority of my collection. Also, none of the pens I own have had any custom nib work done nor been purchased with specialised nibs (i.e. italic, stub and the like).

No — this post essentially came from a curiosity of mine as to how many of each type of nib I did have, and whether, upon more considered thought, a pattern based on that nib material was evident in the pens preferred writing with.

A little background

If it can be suggested there is a “usual” trajectory in nib experience and acquisition, it would most likely begin with steel in the “low end” or “entry level” pens, and progress along to gold as the user experience, desire, and budget expand a little (or a lot).

Of course there are always outliers or exceptions to the rule. The first fountain pen I bought — a Montblanc Meisterstück Classique, with a 14k nib. It is still my most prized pen possession, for many reasons, most of which are outlined here. Thinking back, that purchase was an exercise in naïvety of the most extreme kind, but boy I’m glad it was made. Anyway, that is another story.

Plenty has been written on the topic of gold versus steel nibs, and for a sound basis of what we talking about in this post, I refer you to a piece by Brian Gray of the Edison Pen Company. Written in 2010, it lays out many of the questions (and answers) that arise when discussion is had around gold and stainless steel nibs.

In the post, Brian outlines the biggest difference between modern stainless steel and gold nibs: flex. If we define flex as a causing line width variation due to spreading of the tines in a nib, gold will generally provide a greater degree of this. Irrespective of flex, I personally find most of my gold nibs to be softer, or possessing more “give” as Brian describes in his post.

As far as the actual tip material on the nib, this is often identical in any event, whether gold or steel is used in the construction. Both have a “tipping” material, often referred to as iridium, which is common for either type of nib for either type of nib, and is what comes into direct contact with the page. Here I’d recommend a little further reading on this in another of Brian’s articles:

Please regard iridium as a synonym for tipping material.  The tip of a pen nib is rarely iridium, and almost never pure iridium.  It is usually plathenium, osmiridium, or a various mixture of metals.  So in the pen industry, understand that iridium is a term used to refer to tipping material, even though there is usually no iridium present.

Aside from the above, most specification pages you might care to look up of the pens you see here will also state the nibs are “rhodium plated” gold or steel — hence the silver appearance of many of the gold nibs, or part thereof. You can probably now see why anything other than a cursory mention of these aspects about nib construction is way beyond both the scope of this post and my knowledge and expertise in such matters.

In summary, if we were to grossly over-generalise things, gold nibs you could say, generally provide more flex, have a little more give (independent of flex), and are usually found on more expensive pens. Clearly they also play a role in the overall aesthetics of a pen — particularly if the gold nib is actually gold in colour as well, remembering not all of them are.

My collection

When the idea struck to take a quick inventory of my own collection, I did so and posted an image to Instagram. I’ve also included images of some of my pens below.

Even from that simple Instagram photo, it is fairly evident pens with gold nibs are almost as numerous in my collection as their steel counterparts. Of the eight in that image however, six were kindly passed on from another fountain pen enthusiast’s collection. I’ll be honest — there is simply no way I would have as many in my collection without this generosity — purely and simply from a financial point of view. The pens? I love each and every one of them — the Custom Heritage 92 (FM) an absolute standout favourite, along with the Meisterstück Classique, as I mentioned above.

gold_nibs_zoom

We struck gold – from (L): 1&4 Pelikan; 2 Lamy; 3&5 Pilot; 6 Montblanc

The steel nib pens? These were where I began to build my collection after owning that sole Meisterstück for around 16 years. Was I disappointed with the Kaweco Ice Sport, Pelikan M205, Pilot Metropolitan, Lamy Safari or even the Pilot Petit1? Not in the slightest. One of my absolute favourites — the Pilot Kakuno I bought for my son’s birthday a couple of years ago. The steel nib on that thing is absolutely amazing, and it cost me all of $AUD14.95. The reason it isn’t in the image below is my habit of forgetting to raid my son’s stationery drawer when I take pen photos!

steel_zoom

Pen of steel – from (L) 1 Kaweco; 2,4&6 Pelikan; 3&5 Pilot; 7 Lamy.

In conclusion

If you have made it this far, and are still looking for a definitive answer on whether to shell out a few (perhaps quite a few) more dollars for a gold nib on that pen you are considering, I’m probably going to disappoint.

My honest opinion? I would not advise you to spend more money on gold simply for gold’s sake. Will the writing experience be better if you do? Not necessarily, however it will certainly be different. Would I say any of my steel nibs offer a better writing experience than the gold? Probably not. Asking the same question of the gold however — I’d say probably yes — some of my gold nibs do write more smoothly and effortlessly than the steel.

Bear in mind though, if you are talking day-to-day use, posing this question and seeking a somewhat useful answer, relies on so many other factors, a definitive conclusion might be pretty hard to come by. Am I trying to best show off a new ink for an Instagram post, or scrawling a few hundred words of notes in a meeting? Add to this the numerous other situations in which you may find your fountain pen wielding self and you’ll see what I’m talking about.

In wrapping up — did I answer my (selfish I know) original question about whether there is a preference or pattern in the nibs I prefer? Looking back I believe I have — and it is a fairly resounding no. As my collection continues to grow, both steel and gold nibs will be part of any additions. The difference? The almighty dollar will perhaps see the steel side of the ledger increase a little faster.1

So, I certainly have a definitive answer about steel versus gold when reflecting on my collection and preference. Whether or not any of the above has helped you in any way I’d certainly be less certain. That said, if a steel nib pen has a good reputation, and is at a price you are prepared to pay, I’d be fairly certain you won’t be disappointed.

  1. Of course any arguments around quality versus quantity and saving for a more expensive pen are certainly not irrelevant here. ↩︎

Aussie Fountain Pen Friends on Facebook

A couple of months ago, the Fountain Pen Economist Dr Jonathon Deans (Web, Twitter), mentioned in passing how it might be nice if a local discussion group existed for Australian Fountain Pen enthusiasts. More recently on Twitter, he asked the question whether there were any Facebook groups for such people, with my response indicating there were none I was aware of, perhaps with the exception of the one he was about to start — which I said with tongue only half in cheek.

IMG_4823Since then, start it has, with the Fountain Pens Australia group now up and running on Facebook, with Jonathon and fellow fountain pen enthusiast Yagan Kiely (Instagram, Twitter) kicking things off.

Bear in mind that I had not yet taken the plunge into the land of Facebook at the time, having only recently created my profile with the intention of joining the FPA group. A big call, however one I believe will be well worth it. As I write this on a lazy Saturday afternoon, membership numbers have been steadily rising over the course of the day — very pleasing indeed.

What do I hope to get out of being involved in such a group? Much discussion and information sharing around one of my passions — fountain pens. I have seen the power of the internet and social media in disseminating such information through Twitter, Instagram, various pen blogs, and of course avenues such as The Pen Addict podcast.

A Facebook group such as this, with a local focus, is a fantastic opportunity to learn a whole lot more through discussion with like-minded individuals (most of whom are likely to have vastly more experience than myself), yet be sure the content remains highly relevant to the local market. Discussion has already been active in relation to the upcoming Melbourne Pen Show in November.

Although I’ve been writing here for a couple of years now, with a fair portion of content devoted to pens, I do still consider myself a beginner, with much still to learn about fountain pens. I’m fairly sure I’ll be doing more “learning” than “teaching” in such a group, however am very much looking forward to contributing what I can.

So if you are reading this in Australia, are on Facebook (or think it worth joining like myself), and are at all interested in fountain pens, please click this link and set about joining the Fountain Pens Australia group. Be part of what is bound to be a friendly and productive group discussion on a subject myself and many others derive a great amount of joy from.