I was watching a Norwegian crime series on Netflix recently. There was a scene where a letter was being inspected by a team of detectives. They were hunting the killer who was the author of the letter. They called in a writing expert to analyse the letter. They desperately needed clues to find him before more people were killed.

It came to light that the expert could tell a lot about the writer by the words they used. Expressions and individual words could help pinpoint how old the writer was likely to be, and even where they may have lived, or how affluent, or not, they were. There was much to be discerned just from this small bit of writing. I found this fascinating.

I was thinking, in Australia, it might be easy to pick which state the killer lived in. There are many words that are unique to states. In Queensland, my home state, we used togs for swimmers, or port for our school bag. You could easily pick an Australian when they used the word thong. Not that I think a criminal might be using those words in a letter. It would be an odd letter if they did.

The science of analysing handwriting is called graphology. While this is not a precise science, it is claimed that experts can estimate someone’s personality or characteristics, and even their emotional state and tendencies to behave in a certain way, just by looking at their handwriting. In terms of a criminal’s handwriting and getting a court conviction, of course, it’s much more useful to find DNA on their pen or pencil!

High school exams are mostly handwritten but it appears soon they won’t be.The art of handwriting seems to be slowly disappearing from the first world. I can understand this to a large extent. I know that decades ago I could handwrite foolscap sheets of words. I would write lots of letters to family and friends. Now I find that even after a few paragraphs my hand starts to wobble and stress under the strain. Suddenly my letters start going wonky. Not only that, but they become bigger or smaller, or even both, as I try and keep the pace sustained. My grip becomes harder and harder. Occasionally, a tiny spasm might occur in my hand, and I’ll make a zig or a zag of ink. The letters start to become more and more rigid as I begin to lose tight control over the muscles driving the fine motor skills in my hand. When I look from the beginning to end of what I have written, you wouldn’t recognise it’s the same person writing. I wonder what the graphologist would say about that? Could I be under the influence or just unpractised?

Handwriting can also be changed by mood. Compare a note you might leave someone who didn’t pick up after their dog at your front gate, to your shopping list or a note to a friend.

The paper you use and, most importantly, what you use to write with, can affect your style of writing. Remember those great big fat pens you could buy that had six or so colours you could use? Or the little skinny, tiny, weeny pens that slid down the side of a notebook you could slip in your pocket? These gave you very little control of your handwriting, so they were only good for a couple of words. The big fat ones, while more manageable, presented their own problems, apart from always wanting to change the colour of some of the words mid-sentence.

I suppose, no matter what, if a criminal was writing a letter, it wouldn’t be long. You’d have to get your point across quickly and make sure you weren’t giving away any clues in the meantime. What paper would you use? Would you tear out a lined page from a workbook? Or would you use nice stationery? I think maybe not. Pen or pencil? Black, blue, red ink? Caps or upper and lower case? There’s a lot to think about when writing, especially if you are hiding something. Maybe that’s why they cut out letters from newspapers.

Thinking back to how the words we use define us, since I saw that episode, I ponder my writing more. Here in this foreword, I can see it is probably obvious what my rough age or generation is. My turn of phrase here and there, my use of the Australian vernacular. There are so many words that have I used in my youth and throughout my life that are unlikely to be in the vocabulary of younger writers.

I like to think I’m an honest writer. I’m sure that makes me a prime target for an expert analysist to figure me out too. I write like I speak and think I am pretty much an open book. That is simply in my DNA. If you were to meet me but couldn’t see me, although you could hear me speak, you would probably say, yes that’s her!

My friends always laugh. If we did commit a crime and we were taken in for questioning, I would be the first person to spill the beans. I am a terrible fibber so I would have trouble misleading anyone analysing my words.

I’m easy to pick for any writing expert. All the same, I’m not telling you my age.

Rowena

A year has passed since I lost Baxter.

Here, no words suffice.

READ MORE

Read the previous month’s Foreword from the Editor