I’ve wanted an Edison Pen for quite some time. Not only does Brian Grey have a reputation as an excellent craftsman, but to my eyes his designs are quite beautiful. But I had a good bit of trouble finding the Edison pen that was for me. A couple of years ago I got one of the first seasonal editions of the Nouveau Premiere; and while I liked the pen quite a lot, it smelt of burnt plastic and it never seemed to dissipate (I still don’t know if the smell was specific to that one pen or to that particular material). I was able to recoup almost all of what I paid for it, but I was still left without an Edison.
I used the money from the sale of that pen to commission a custom Extended Mina, but during the long wait I read some online reviews and found a small aspect of the pen that soured it for me (most people don’t seem to care much about the feature, but the pen world is full of people who are OCD about their pens, and I’m no exception) so I converted my custom order into an outright purchase–an Edison Menlo.
I reeeeeeeeeally wanted to like the Menlo, but that one just wasn’t the pen for me. I’m not sure if the pen was defective or if my warm hands just aren’t compatible with eye-dropper or large capacity fill systems. But Brian let me return the pen for a refund/credit, and I was back to trying to find the right pen for me. Ultimately I decided on the Collier, in part because of it’s large size, but also because I liked the shape. After picking my material Brian graciously put me at the front of the design queue, so it wasn’t too long until I had the pen in my hands.
Here are my thoughts on the Edison Collier in Translucent Mint Swirl with a steel 1.1mm stub nib.
Note: for the first 2 sections, which concern the Edison Pen Company and not the pen, I will provide comment but not a score, as only the pen categories are scored.
Design/Ordering Process: Not scored
The website is good, not great. It’s a clunkier experience than most pen sites you’re used to. If you’re ordering a custom pen, that’s fine, because you probably don’t want to build your pen through a series of dropdowns–you want to talk to the guy who’s going to put it on the lathe. But for the person who sees what he wants while scrolling through the inventory, they’d probably want to just drop that in their cart and checkout.
Also, the site is divided up onto different domains, which ads to the clunky feel. It’s definitely nice to able to scroll through all those pictures of current pens, past pens, pen materials, etc, but if you’re deciding what you want that can mean a lot of jumping back and forth between the main site and the picture album site.
However, it’s a huge plus to be able to see all those pen pictures. Without them I never would have landed on this model or this material. None of this was enough of a bother to stop me from ordering a pen, and truthfully I think we’d all rather Brian spend his time making pens instead of working on his website, but if he’s got someone to do his website for him, it could use some updating.
Customer Service: Not scored
If you read the intro above, you’ll know that I had a lot of communication with Brian during the months that I was in the queue for a custom pen, then waiting for my Menlo, then waiting for a repair, then back in the queue. During this time, Brian was always ready to assure me that he wouldn’t be happy until I was happy. And based on the time he spent on my problems, I believe him.
If I had one knock in this area it’s that communication can sometimes take a while. Edison Pens isn’t a one man operation, but it all revolves around Brian making a custom item in a niche market. So when he goes on vacation, production basically stops. When he’s out email doesn’t necessarily stop, but you’re likely to get a personal response that tells you Brian’s on vacation, and you’ll get an answer when he’s back. Likewise, if he’s headed to a pen show you may have to wait a few days as well. I don’t begrudge Brian these breaks, but if you’re going to order from him you’ll need to understand that when you want something from a craftsman you can’t expect factory-like production times.
This is a seriously sexy pen. Part of that stems from the material I picked, and I’ll get to that, but it’s the shape of the pen I like best. This is not a small pen, and many of the oversize pens I’ve used either make the barrel straight, or go a little overboard with giving it some curves. I like the gentle lines of this giant. And yes, the material is awesome. It’s a little frustrating to look at the pictures because I just don’t have the photography skills to show off this material; but my wife hit the nail on the head when she said it looks like the glassy-swirl marbles so many of us has when we were kids. It looks so nice my other pens are getting jealous–I haven’t touched another pen since I first inked this one.
There is part of me that wants to score this an 11, but I respect math too much to do that. Instead I’ll give it a 10 with a bang (that’s an exclamation point for you non-programmer/not grammar nerds). There are essentially two aspects to the construction score–there’s the design and then the execution of the design.
With the Collier, as good the execution of the design is, it’s the design itself that makes this pen so special. The seam at the clip, where the cap meets the finial, is so smooth I can only detect it with my fingernail when carefully looking for it. The finished surfaces are smooth, inside and out, I can see through the pen with no distortion.
But as I said, the design is what makes this pen special. It’s a pretty big pen–bordering on huge. It’s longer than my Homo Sapiens, Cosmos, Al-Star, Van Gogh Maxi, Franklin-Christoph 02, and even my Newton Gibby; and as thick or thicker than all of them. But even with all that size, it has a relatively normal-sized grip, and it’s fairly light (30g overall, 20g without the cap). The curves help give the pen a great balance–a tiny bit front heavy.
One note about the design: The pen does not post. At all. Once upon a time this would have been a deal-breaker for me, but in the last couple of years I’ve completely stopped posting my pens.
8 is my default score for a Cartridge/Converter system, where the end of the section is smooth, making it easy to wipe off after filling. The converter is the default system for this design. You can pay extra to switch to a bulb filler, or pump system, but I stuck with the converter–I might have paid extra for a piston fill, but that wasn’t offered.
I went with the steel 1.1mm stub. I like this nib, I don’t love it. It’s a little too rounded for my taste–generally I lean toward a slightly rounder stub, rather than crisp, but even for me this one is too rounded. I’m not sure how much control Brian has over that, as he gets his nibs from JoWo. Brian does tune the nibs he sells, and this nib is certainly smooth and wet enough for my taste.
As nice as it is, it’s nothing special, and I’ll be looking to upgrade this nib soon. I might send this one off to a nibmeister for some shaping and a little added flex, or I might try to source a higher quality #6 nib to replace this one. I wonder if Visconti makes any steel #6 nibs.
Gold nibs are available from Edison, but I’m less enamored of gold nibs than the fountain pen population at large.
Test Drive: 9/10
The whole point of a pen is how it writes. Everything else is prologue. Can I write with the damned thing? Can I write for hours? When I clean out my pens and decide to ink up 3 of them, will my heart reach for the Edison Collier?
This pen has been constantly inked since it came in the mail. I’ve filled it will Pilot Iroshizuku Kon-peki, and Caran d’Ache Vibrant Green, two inks I use often and am very familiar with. I’ve burned through at least 15 full pages with each ink, and the thickness combined with the light weight results in remarkably little hand fatigue. I enjoy writing with this pen a lot.
8.8. That’s a bit lower than I expected going in. But if I’m able to source a high-quality replacement nib, or get my nib-guy to work his magic, the score could come all the way up to 9.6.
I have a feeling the Edison Collier will get a lot of use.
Project 2,996 was created back in 2006. So, even though it’s not yet 10 years old, this will be the 10th 9/11 where I have encouraged others to remember these people not by rehashing their very public deaths, but by learning about their lives.
I’ll freely admit when the idea came to me that I didn’t expect it to take off the way it did. In fact, until right before 9/11 I actually had the information contained on a single page of my existing blog. Then on 9/11 so many people visited my website–to see the list and follow the links–that I used up all my allotted traffic before I even woke up. I had trouble getting my site back up because every time my webhost tried to bring it back up a flood of incoming traffic immediately took it back down. Thankfully, some of the other participants put up mirrors of the list. That first year, even though my site was down for more than 12 hours, my webhost logged more than 2 million incoming requests.
However, what shocked me was how many people were willing to sign up to learn about–and write about–someone they never met.
This year–as I always do–I invite you to learn about those killed on 9/11.
Almost everything that I wrote more than fifteen years ago no longer exists. The box containing my old notebooks and any school assignments I’d deemed worth saving disappeared during a cross country move. The world is probably a better place because of this.
A few things do survive—certain papers or stories that for one reason or another were transcribed to computer and managed to survive the steady upgrade of computers over the years. When I read these few survivors I cringe.
It’s not that my writing was bad, it was just…. It was unpolished, adjective-heavy, repetitive, sparse on meaningful description, and plot laden. It was young.
But—and this is important—it was full of ideas, and it was full of excitement.
As an adult, I’m better at taking a random idea—i.e., a writing prompt—and with time and patience working that into something useful. I’m better at revising a raw rough draft and molding it into something polished. But what I’m missing now, what those early books were full of, were ideas that sprung completely from my own head—ideas that I was passionate about developing.
Sure, some of those ideas have hung around. The ones I spent more time trying to tame were repeated enough that they are at least partially committed to memory. But when I think back to the ideas I lost, I find myself wishing that I was able to revisit some of the crazier ideas with the honed skills I have now.
Do you still have the stories, notebooks or ideas you came up with in your past? How far back? Do you find them helpful, or do they just make you cringe?
I’d love to hear your answers in the comments—or pop over to the Today’s Author Forum and talk about it with other writers.
Like many of you, in various English classes through Junior and Senior High I had to keep a journal. For the first 5 minutes of class we each pulled out a cheap spiral notebook and wrote about…whatever. I’m sure the intent, when the assignment was first conceived, was a bit more focused than it was by the time I made my way into the classes. If the intent was to have us write about anything profound, or to make progress toward some useful writing, it was lost on me–especially the years where English was the first or second class of the day.
No, my journals were often filled with musings (feel free to read that as whining) about how difficult it was to come up with something to write about in 5 minutes. My forced creativity occasionally led to my journal being filled with disconnected sentences, and wishes that I had enough time to focus on a fun topic. Nearly every time a teacher graded these I got unfocused comments that were about as close to a teacher calling a student a smartass as they could get away with.
As I’ve gotten older, and continued writing for another 30 years, the process of coming up with something to write about hasn’t gotten any easier. I guess I’ve just always had a problem with unfocused inspiration. Give me a pen and a blank page and my mind starts ticking through possibilities–but instead of whittling them down to a select few, the topics multiply and multiply again until my writing paralysis starts to look like fear, rather than overload.
I didn’t understand this all back then. In fact it took me a long time before I saw the pattern–as soon as a teacher told me what to write, I was off on a tear. Whether they gave me a narrow focus (an essay on a narrow topic) or a broad suggestion (write about aliens), the paralysis was over.
This still holds true for me. When I need to write a story I feel so overwhelmed with all the potential stories I could write that I have trouble settling on one in time to get something on paper. But when someone says, “Write a story using one of these characters as your protagonist,” or “use this song as inspiration for your sci-fi story,” I can pick few key points and I’m off.
Now, a little not-so-secret about me is that I like games. I spent years playing tabletop role-playing games, and even now my friends and I play quite a few party and strategy games. So, make something a game–and more importantly, tie in a set of custom dice–and you’ve got my attention.
So when I came across these boxes in my local game store it wasn’t a difficult decision to fork over $7 to try it out.
The concept here is not difficult. There are nine 6-sided dice, each side with a simple picture. You roll the dice and try to incorporate the nine pictures into something coherent. That’s if you play by the rules. But anyone who’s ever played Dungeons & Dragons–or even Risk–knows that everyone makes up their own rules.
To me nine pictures seems fine for a game, but I’m not trying to see if I can link all the images; I’m just using them as a kickstart. So now, when the blank page has been mocking me for a few minutes I don’t hesitate to whip out my special dicebag, pick 2 – 5 dice at random, and see what comes up.
This little writing tool is no cure-all. It doesn’t help me schedule time to write, it doesn’t help when my subconscious or ego gets in the way. But, when I’m ready to write, and can’t come up with anything, it’s amazingly useful.
And it’s kind of fun, too.
I love Franklin-Christoph pens–and I love the company, too. This is, in part, local pride as we’re both residents of North Carolina’s Research Triangle. However, I also love them because of all the companies I’ve seen, F-C seems to have a flair for experimentation and innovation.
I’ve had several Franklin-Christoph pens over the past couple of years. Most have moved on to other owners as my tastes have changed. One exception to this was the Franklin-Christoph 02 Intrinsic Anderson Pens Special Edition (black body with bright pearlescent blue section and final). But when I saw the F-C 02 Emerald & Ice version I knew I wanted it in my collection. With one notable exception, I’m not the kind of person to have multiples of the same pen, so I sold my Anderson F-C 02, and bought the Emerald & Ice.
I really think this pen is beautiful. And more importantly, the “ice” effect—done by applying some sort of texturing treatment to the interior of the cap and barrel—is something unique to my collection. The Emerald final—made of a slightly pearlescent darkish green material—provided a nice contrast to the Ice body. The pen tapers dramatically from the section, back toward the end, which results in a silhouette that is odd, but not unpleasant.
I think I would have preferred if the section was also the Emerald material. I usually write unposted, and this would have given the pen body just a bit of flair. However, I know from reading reviews of the Smoke & Ice version many people suggested wanting the section to be clear—so it’s really sort of a personal preference.
This is an uncommonly well-made pen. The shape was very well thought out—the taper ensures that the pen is only 3mm longer when posted than when capped. Where the Clear material is untreated—at the ends—the pen is crystal clear. A few reviews have mentioned that the clips feel flimsy, or cheap. I don’t know if I agree, but I also really don’t care about clips, as long as they keep the pen where it should be.
The construction highlight of this pen is the threads that seal the pen to the cap. They are all the way down at the end of the section. Not only are they so forward that you won’t touch the threads unless you hold your pen uncommonly close to the nib. But even if you do, F-C used block threads so there are no sharp ridges.
It’s a C/C. I like C/Cs. The threads are at the very end of the section, so they will get inky; but since they’re block threads they’re just as easy to wipe off as any smooth part of the pen.
It’s also made to work as an eyedropper. In fact, as other reviews have touched on, the “ice” effect seems to be enhanced when using the pen as an eyedropper. But I hate eyedroppers. My hands are always a little warm, and no matter what I do I wind up with globs of ink on the page. So I’ll never get to see this pen in all its glory.
I got the Steel Extra Fine nib. While there’s nothing special about the nib, it came in perfect condition. Smooth, and had obviously been tuned—wet but not too wet. No spring to it—at least not yet. IN the near future this one will be headed off to Art of Art’s Nibs for the Tomahawk treatment.
Test Drive: 9/10
This pen feels great in my hand—which I already knew from my previous experience with the F-C 02. Of all the F-C pens I have tried (02, 19, 25, 27, 29) this is my favorite. They’re all great writers but this one feels the best—it just fits my hand and my writing.
What stops it from being a 10 is that the cap is not particularly secure when posted. After a couple of minutes of writing the cap loosens a little, and while it’s never fallen off it will loosen enough that it will rattle a little, until I either take it off the pen or re-secure it.
The Franklin-Christoph 02 Intrinsic Emerald & Ice. Beautiful, well-built and a great writer, it’s a great everyday pen.