"We saw two white owls on our walk with Haku," was the first journal entry I wrote with my new Platinum Plaisir fountain pen that my wife gifted me that Christmas afternoon.

From the first glob of ink that oozed out of the nib I was hooked. The base of the pen sat snug between my forefinger and thumb. It made a subtle scratch against the grain of the paper that sent tiny vibrations through my wrist. Each stroke created a schwaa-cka sound as the ink formed the cursive symbols representing my thoughts.

As the flame in the fireplace crackled, I wrote about the rest of my Christmas Day in my Leuchtturm 1917 A5 notebook. I had switched over to the German made journals a year before after testing out the various brands.

I didn't enjoy using cheap notebooks because the ink bled through the pages so badly that I couldn't use both sides. I found the paper in the Japanese brands to be too flimsy for my heavy hand and the texture of the Moleskine notebooks didn't have the starchy crunch I liked when flipping through the pages.

Writing with my new pen in the notebook that I loved was a truly gratifying experience.

Last week I read The Small Stuff by Ian Bogost, a fittingly modest-sized book about embracing the simple pleasures of a gratifying experience. When Bogost uses the term gratifying he is describing the immediate joy felt during a sensory experience.

Unlike satisfaction–the sense of accomplishment felt after overcoming a meaningful challenge–gratification can be enjoyed at any moment by doing things that engage the senses in a delightful way.

What I've learned over the years is the more enjoyable an experience, the more likely I am to return to it over and over again.

For the last few years I've actively looked for ways to make writing more enjoyable in the moment. I've sought out the right pen and notebook to engage my senses; I enjoy the bitter taste of a fresh shot of espresso during my morning writing sessions; I might put on intrumental music in the background and drink a fizzy soda water during my evening sessions.

All of these small sensory factors don't seem like much on their own, but in the aggregate they add up to a gratifying experience that I crave day after day.

Writing no longer feels like the chore that it once did years ago when I would type digital thoughts into my Day One app to hopefully feel the benefits of journaling that all of the self-help gurus promised.

Now I'm happy just to watch ink roll onto a page while I capture a slice of life in writing.

Prompt:

What do you find most gratifying about writing?

How can you enhance the sensory experience of writing to be more gratifying?

Here are some ideas and things to consider:

Sight - Color of notebook; color of ink; spread design; penmanship; thickness of pen tip; aesthetics of the environment you write in.

Sound - Music on or silence; the scratch of a fountain pen versus the smooth rolling of a gel pen; the sounds of nature outdoors; the sounds of the city while sitting at a cafe.

Smell - The fumes of markers; the scent of a candle; the aroma of coffee at your desk.

Touch - the size of notebook; the texture of the pages; the fit of the pen in your hands; a leather cover versus linen; the material of your writing surface; digital versus analog; typewriter versus notebook; the friction of the pen nib catching the page.

Taste - Please don't eat paper.