We All Started Somewhere: My First Steps into Fountain Pens
There is a pen sitting somewhere in your family home. Maybe in a kitchen drawer, buried under batteries and rubber bands. Maybe in an old tin on a grandfather's desk, cap still on, waiting. Maybe you've seen it your whole life and never thought of asking what it was.
It's heavier than you expect when you pick it up. The metal is cool. There's something satisfying about the weight of it — the feeling that this object was made to last, not to be thrown away when the ink runs out.
Unscrew the cap. Look at the nib — that small, split piece of gold or steel at the tip. People have been writing with something that looks almost exactly like this for over 150 years. Lewis Waterman carried one. Winston Churchill signed documents with one. Your grandmother wrote letters with one.
And now it's in your hands.
That feeling — part curiosity, part something older that you can't quite name — is exactly why you're here. And it's exactly where every one of us started.
So, let's begin.
My Beginning
It seems just like yesterday when I took my first step into discovering the beauty of writing with a fountain pen. I'd always heard the term — "Fountain Pen," or as we say in Thai, ปากกาหมึกซึม (Pakka Muek Suem) — and whenever I did, I thought the same thing: that's way too fancy for me.
Then a senior of mine changed everything. A simple, elegant FPR — Fountain Pen Revolution — placed in my hands as a gift. No grand occasion. Just a pen, and a quiet suggestion that I try it.

I almost didn't.
"I looked at it for longer than I'd like to admit. It felt like something meant for someone else — someone more serious, more refined. Not me."
But I uncapped it. I pressed the nib to paper. And when the ink actually flowed — smooth, effortless, alive in a way no ballpoint ever felt — I remember thinking: oh... It works... It actually works...!
That surprise. That small, quiet shock of it. That's where my journey began. And if you're reading this, I have a feeling yours is starting right now too.
Troubles as a First Timer
I won't pretend it was all magic from the start. The truth is, I made every mistake a beginner can make — sometimes all in the same afternoon. If any of these sound familiar, know that you are in very good company.
The five rites of passage- Not knowing how to fill it. I stared at the converter for a full five minutes before attempting anything. Does it twist? Does it pull? Do I submerge the whole nib or just the tip? Nobody tells you these things. (We will. Watch this space.)
- Not knowing how to hold it. A fountain pen isn't a ballpoint — you can't grip it at any angle and expect results. The nib needs to meet the paper just right. Too steep and it scratches. Too flat and nothing flows. Finding that sweet spot took me longer than I expected.
- Ink leaking everywhere. On my fingers. On the paper. Somehow on my shirt. If you've experienced your first ink explosion, welcome to the club. It's a messy initiation, but an honest one.
- Choosing the wrong paper. Fountain pen ink and cheap paper are not friends. The ink bleeds, feathers, and soaks through. I ruined more than a few pages before I learned that the paper matters just as much as the pen.
- A scratchy, skipping nib. That smooth flow I felt the first time? It disappeared the moment I tried a different angle on cheap paper. I thought I'd broken it. I hadn't — but it took a while to understand why it was happening.

Every single one of these has a simple explanation. And more importantly, every single one has a simple fix. That's what this blog is here for.
Why It's Worth Every Struggle
Here's what nobody tells you when you first pick up a fountain pen: the learning curve isn't a frustration. It's part of the experience.
Every time you figure something out — the right angle, the right paper, the satisfying click of a converter filling with ink — you understand the pen a little better. And understanding a fountain pen is strangely similar to understanding a craft. You earn it, slowly, and it stays with you.
There's also something that happens to your writing. It slows down — not in a bad way, but in a deliberate way. A fountain pen asks you to be present. You feel the nib on the paper. You notice the ink color shifting in the light. You stop rushing. For a lot of us, that slowdown is the whole point.
"A fountain pen doesn't just change how you write. It changes how you think about writing."
I didn't expect that from a gift pen. I didn't expect any of this. But here I am — building a shop, writing a blog, hunting down rare and beautiful pens from across the world — all because a senior handed me an FPR and said, try this.
So if you're holding your first fountain pen right now, or you're thinking about picking one up, or you just want to understand what all the fuss is about — you're in the right place.
We all started here. And it only gets better from this point.