I was taught to write by a bastard who made us use nib pens dipped in inkwells. As a lefty I inevitably smudged my own writing (which is why some of us developed that style of which you speak - I couldn't). He slippered my hand every day for a year. Why I never told my parents (I was 7) I cannot imagine. Why he didn't let me use a pencil I cannot fathom. I could punch him to this day.
Bastard Mr Brown!