Yesterday I posted on Facebook that I wanted a manual typewriter. That perhaps by using a manual typewriter I could get around to writing that book that my fortune cookie predicted two weeks ago.
This started a discussion of how a now departed grandmother had an Underwood but no one knows where it ended up.
And it led Mom to say that I would give up after the first page.
I still want one. I like typewriters. I like the sound of the keys. I like the ding and swoosh as the bar slides back to begin the next line. And I really love the satisfaction of ripping the paper out once you're done with that page.
I type all the time. I type memos, briefs, emails and blog entries. But to me, they're not permanent. I have a backspace button and delete if I decide I don't like it. I can't tell you how many times in this post alone I've gone back and changed my words.
There is also spell check. Which I depend on entirely too much. I probably have become a worse speller since I started using a word processor.
Which leads me back to the typewriter. I wonder if by using a typewriter, my words would be more thoughtful if I took more time in rolling them around in my head before I put them on paper. Or if my spelling would improve.
Either way, I still want one.
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