Fountain pen collecting is a hobby that just sort of snuck up on me. Although I used a fountain (cartridge) pen when I was in (Catholic) elementary school, I did not begin using one again until the mid 1980s. After my grandmother passed away we found an early 60s Sheaffer White-Dot Imperial, and I began to use it regularly. Shortly after I moved to South Carolina in 1997, I discovered that I had lost it. I began searching the net in hopes of finding a replacement, and stumbled upon EBAY, the well known online auction site. The first pen I bought was a mint-in-box, red, uninked Parker 45 -- not exactly what I was looking for, but a neat pen nonetheless. I was hooked! Over the years I've collected dozens of pens, primarily Sheaffers and Eversharps, but also some Parkers, Wearevers, and some no-names that just grabbed me because they were so pretty. The links show a few of my favorites.

But why this fixation on such seemingly pedestrian implements that most people scarcely even notice?

As in any fanatical undertaking, those not possessed of the bug have difficulty understanding why someone would want to collect fountain pens. I've often tried to analyze the attraction myself, and will attempt to describe my own feelings on the subject.

For me, the attraction of fountain pens is multifaceted. At the most superficial level, I just think they are more comfortable to write with and more conducive to good penmanship.

More important, though, is their place as an icon of a more thoughtful, more appreciative time. A fountain pen, even an inexpensive one, is not something that you buy by the dozen, and discard as they begin to skip. Granted, there are expensive ball points and rollerballs that would hardly be considered disposable, but still, the business end still gets thrown away each time you change the refill. With a fountain pen, on the other hand, the nib breaks in, becomes smoother with time, and is a lasting friend that you will grow to know better and better for your entire life. You can change ink colors to suite your mood, but the pen remains the same.

There's also something about an old pen that is particularly intriguing to me, particularly one that was well cared for. I know that someone else probably used it until they died, and cared enough for it to keep it in fine shape. I do not know who they were, but in some odd way, it's as if a part of them is kept alive through this thing that they cherished. On the other hand, some pens were clearly received as gifts, placed in a drawer, and never used. The 1954 Sheaffer Snorkel set is a case in point. Sometimes I think about who the people were who bought it, and for whom it was intended -- perhaps a grandmother, like my own, who was difficult to buy gifts for. He or she never used it, but they kept it safe for someone who would.

You see, there's something uniquely human about writing instruments -- other things too that are, or could be, an intimate part of somebody's life. I shave with straight razors for the same reason -- but that's a different fetish.