So, I’ve been a little self-conscious about my handwriting lately. It either comes out in tight little all-caps like I’m drafting blueprints or devolves into something more like messy chicken scratch—like I tag billboards. Perhaps like some of us do when our handwriting feels subpar, I started to wonder: Is it my grip?
It All Starts In Kindergarten (Of Course)
Back in kindergarten, my teacher was absolutely determined to teach me the tripod grip—you know, where you rest the pencil on your middle finger and pinch it between your index finger and thumb. It’s supposedly the gold standard of handwriting grips.
But even then, my hand had other plans. I naturally fell into the quadrupod grip, where the pencil rests on your ring finger and you pinch with your thumb, index, and middle fingers. It felt right. It still does! But that didn’t stop my teacher from constantly correcting me—and when that didn’t work, she started sticking these little plastic pencil grips on the end of my pencils to force the tripod position.
They looked like chewed gum, felt like sandpaper, and made writing miserable. But I survived kindergarten. And by first grade, I ditched the plastic lumps and went back to my quadrupod grip in peace. I’ve held my pen that way ever since.
So Why Buy Another Grip?
Lately I’ve been admiring everyone’s beautiful planner layouts, with their cute, neat handwriting and perfect spacing. It's the Pinterest effect. Naturally, I wondered if my printing could be improved—if maybe I could retrain myself into the "Proper, Acceptable Tripod Grip" and unlock some previously inaccessible handwriting magic.
So I bought a pencil grip. Specifically, the Tombow Yo-i Pencil Grip from (of course) JetPens. I stuck it on a good old Ticonderoga pencil, sat down, and instantly hated it.
It was just as awkward, clunky, and uncomfortable as the ones from my childhood. My fingers wanted to do their own thing. The grip wanted them to do something else. It was a match made in hell.
Lede Unearthed: It Didn't Work Out
I gave it the old College Try of several days of handwriting practice, swapping back and forth between writing with the grip and writing without it. The results? Let’s just say that either nothing changed, or it actually got worse.
(I even have photo evidence below: odd-numbered lines are without the grip, even-numbered lines are with. It’s a very underwhelming experiment.)
Here's what I learned: if you want to improve your handwriting, you don't need a gimmick, but practice and patience. Maybe a nicer pen. Maybe smoother paper. But grip? That’s secondary at best.
Furthermore, from what I've read, the quadrupod grip is just as good as the tripod grip, actually! So I may have lost the battle in kindergarten, but I didn't lose the war!
And honestly, my handwriting is far down the list of things I want to improve about myself. I don’t think anyone in my life is begging me to fix it either.
Final Thoughts
The pencil grip was dirt cheap, so I’m not mad about the money. But I wouldn’t buy it again, and I definitely wouldn’t recommend it unless you really enjoy feeling like your kindergarten teacher is still hovering over your shoulder.
As for me? I’ll stick to my quadrupod grip, thank you very much. Chicken scratch and all.




It All Starts In Kindergarten (Of Course)
Back in kindergarten, my teacher was absolutely determined to teach me the tripod grip—you know, where you rest the pencil on your middle finger and pinch it between your index finger and thumb. It’s supposedly the gold standard of handwriting grips.
But even then, my hand had other plans. I naturally fell into the quadrupod grip, where the pencil rests on your ring finger and you pinch with your thumb, index, and middle fingers. It felt right. It still does! But that didn’t stop my teacher from constantly correcting me—and when that didn’t work, she started sticking these little plastic pencil grips on the end of my pencils to force the tripod position.
They looked like chewed gum, felt like sandpaper, and made writing miserable. But I survived kindergarten. And by first grade, I ditched the plastic lumps and went back to my quadrupod grip in peace. I’ve held my pen that way ever since.
So Why Buy Another Grip?
Lately I’ve been admiring everyone’s beautiful planner layouts, with their cute, neat handwriting and perfect spacing. It's the Pinterest effect. Naturally, I wondered if my printing could be improved—if maybe I could retrain myself into the "Proper, Acceptable Tripod Grip" and unlock some previously inaccessible handwriting magic.
So I bought a pencil grip. Specifically, the Tombow Yo-i Pencil Grip from (of course) JetPens. I stuck it on a good old Ticonderoga pencil, sat down, and instantly hated it.
It was just as awkward, clunky, and uncomfortable as the ones from my childhood. My fingers wanted to do their own thing. The grip wanted them to do something else. It was a match made in hell.
Lede Unearthed: It Didn't Work Out
I gave it the old College Try of several days of handwriting practice, swapping back and forth between writing with the grip and writing without it. The results? Let’s just say that either nothing changed, or it actually got worse.
(I even have photo evidence below: odd-numbered lines are without the grip, even-numbered lines are with. It’s a very underwhelming experiment.)
Here's what I learned: if you want to improve your handwriting, you don't need a gimmick, but practice and patience. Maybe a nicer pen. Maybe smoother paper. But grip? That’s secondary at best.
Furthermore, from what I've read, the quadrupod grip is just as good as the tripod grip, actually! So I may have lost the battle in kindergarten, but I didn't lose the war!
And honestly, my handwriting is far down the list of things I want to improve about myself. I don’t think anyone in my life is begging me to fix it either.
Final Thoughts
The pencil grip was dirt cheap, so I’m not mad about the money. But I wouldn’t buy it again, and I definitely wouldn’t recommend it unless you really enjoy feeling like your kindergarten teacher is still hovering over your shoulder.
As for me? I’ll stick to my quadrupod grip, thank you very much. Chicken scratch and all.



