What’s your favorite pen?

What’s my favorite fountain pen? That’s a loaded question, but not nearly as painful as “how many pens do you own?”

Going by appearance alone, picking a favorite is tough. The answer would have to be… these ten pens!

Sorry. It’s easy to get carried away with this sort of thing. I’ll narrow it down to four. Asking any more of me is asking too much.

There. It’s hard to pick when there is so much variety. And while they’re all pleasant to write with, these are favorites on the basis of appearance alone. But—looks aren’t everything. That isn’t why I got into fountain pens in the first place. I was drawn in for practical reasons—health reasons (for those who are new to this blog, read more about that here). The aesthetic side is just a fun bonus that turns it into an actual hobby, and yes, it is easy to get out of hand.

So, what’s my ultimate single favorite? The one that I reach for the most, the one that makes my hand the happiest, the one that I would feel utterly lost without? It’s this one:

What? Not a Sailor, or a Visconti, or a Montblanc? Nope. Just a humble frankenpen. To be precise, it’s an Ebony Jinhao 51A with some frankenpen inclinations—I swapped the Jinhao nib for a Nemosine fine nib, and I also gave it a rose gold Nemosine converter.

In fact, I love this pen so much that I also own a near-identical twin to this pen (it happens to be slightly lighter in color, darn it). Just in case some accident were to occur. You never know.

You know you have an excellent tool when it becomes practically invisible as you use it, to the point that it feels as if it’s a part of you. That’s how it is for me with the Jinhao 51A. It’s super-lightweight and just the right size for my hand. I’m hardly aware of it. There isn’t a thing about this pen that disrupts my work flow: it writes with unfailing smoothness and the subdued coloration helps as bright colors are actually quite distracting to me. (In pens and clothing I lean towards black, muted, or neutral colors—I only enjoy bright colors when it comes to ink—perhaps because then it REALLY calls my attention to what I’m writing?) Better focus means higher work quality, and more comfort means higher productivity.

In short, this pen is a solid win, the “mission accomplished” pen of my search, so to speak.

As for a close second place, that goes to a vintage pen my sister handed down to me.

Unsurprisingly, it isn’t too different from the Jinhao—similar size, slightly lighter in weight, and plain, non-disctracting black. It’s a super wet writer and lays down a medium to broad line. After some work on the nib with micromesh, it is now extremely smooth. My research tells me these pens were often found in places such as Kmart or Walmart in the 80s and 90s. So, definitely not a luxury item, but it is a practical one that still works well. I thoroughly enjoy using it. Because it’s been around a while, it’s a little scuffed-up. But I like that about it—gives it character. (I’m a little beat up myself.) This pen makes me happy.

A great fountain pen need not be a high-end luxury product and it need not be an eye-catching work of art. My Jinhao cost under $10 (more if you factor in the replacement nib). The vintage pen likely went for much less when it was a new item.

Some may think I’m nuts for having as many pens as I have, but it’s my way of having fun. It’s a relaxing hobby for me. We all need a little calm and relaxation in this crazy world for sanity and survival—a sweet respite from the digital domain, a little escape into something that is genuinely private and safe. I think pens and paper fit the bill nicely.