Picture a grown man flat on his stomach across a bed, a white coat over his shirt, scrawling in fat blue crayon on a sheet of cardboard. That was often how James Joyce worked, and none of it was affectation. His eyes were failing, and every part of the setup was a workaround.

The Direct Answer
Joyce usually wrote lying on his stomach in bed, in a white coat, using large blue pencils, all to cope with failing eyesight.
These details come mainly from Richard Ellmann's landmark biography James Joyce and from Frank Budgen, the friend who watched him compose Ulysses.

The Position and the White Coat

The prone posture was practical. Joyce spent years in near-darkness behind his own eyes, so he brought the page as close as he could and worked where the light held steady. The white coat has been reported by biographers as a reflector of sorts, a way to bounce lamplight back onto paper he could barely see. He favored large blue pencils and thick crayon because ordinary graphite vanished against the page. On white cardboard, in blue, the letters were big enough to read back.

I have the words already. What I am seeking is the perfect order of words in the sentence.

James Joyce, as recalled by Frank Budgen in James Joyce and the Making of 'Ulysses'

That line explains the pace better than any story about crayons. Joyce didn't hunt for vocabulary. He rearranged what he already had until the rhythm sat exactly right, sometimes spending a whole day on the order of a single sentence. For the wider picture, see the full James Joyce writing routine.

Why His Eyes Dictated Everything

Joyce's eye trouble started with childhood myopia and grew much worse in his twenties, when a bout diagnosed as iritis set off years of inflammation and a slow slide into glaucoma and cataracts. He submitted to a long run of painful operations and once joked that he held 'the world's amateur record for eye operations.' Bright rooms hurt him. Fine print was hopeless. So the method bent around the disability rather than the other way around.

Even the color made sense. Blue crayon on white cardboard gave him the highest contrast he could manage, and the oversized strokes let him reread a morning's work without reaching for a magnifying glass every time. He composed much of Finnegans Wake this way, in crayon, in bed, often dictating aloud when his sight gave out entirely.


What You Can Steal