My husband and I were in Turin, Italy for a week. I wanted to go and see the wonderful collection of the Museo Egizio / Egyptian Museum. Also we were celebrating our wedding anniversary and my birthday that same week.
We walked everywhere - and one day when we left the hotel we stayed in, on the other side of the street at a little distance was a store window I could not pass.
I mean - how could you pass a store that sold nothing but beautiful fountain pens?
I had dreamed of owning a beautiful blue fountain pen all my life. For some reason I had never bought one. And there it was - my dream pen, on the lower shelf of the window. I left nose marks on the window and my husband sighed, knowing what that meant.
When we returned hours later, I almost ran to the shop. The lovely lady inside was just taking some cough syrup and hurried to explain that it was not beer she was drinking. We assured her we never suspected such a thing.
She then showed me seven beautiful blue fountain pens, but as it usually is, my heart was set on the one I had seen on the window. And so I got my birthday present, one day early. And yes, it cost an arm and a leg, but I was in love with it and decided it was worth the investment.
I probably won't be writing the next book with the fountain pen as I wanted to do as a little girl, but I did start using it the very next day. On an orange colored note book with hieroglyphs on the cover (bought after spending six and a half hours at the Museo Egizio) I wrote the best thing that had happened to me that day. My good old notebook of the best thing that happened to me on a given day. Something nice to read when life sucks.
I very much believe every writer should own a beautiful fountain pen. Just looking at it makes me want to write!
(And the next time I go to Museo Egizio in Turin, I shall again walk into that store - a friend mentioned there is such a thing as collecting fountain pens...)