It is with great excitement that I begin writing the inagural post of my #TypewriterTidbit series. My weapon of choice this fine evening is a 1949 Smith-Corona Sterling that was gifted to meby my soon-to-be father-in-law. Big shoutout and thank you to him for this wonderful new toy.
I have yet to decide exactly how this series is going to go other than all posts will be initially drafted on Alma, my typewriter. I will scan and upload a picture of the original piece to the blog, along with a computer-typed transcript in case the image is – DAMN – typos suck on these things. (Expect a lot in the beginning) As I had been trying to say, I’ll be uploading a computer-typed transcript of the post in case the scanned picture is unclear or too small to read.
Expect this series to be meandering but personal in nature. I am not one for journal writing but there is something romantic about writing with Alma that allows me a certain level of introspection I rarely find in other mediums. For those of you who have experience using a typewriter for no purpose other than to capture a sense of nostalgia that only writers are interested in and others find pointless, you know what I am talking about. It’s a late night session under the lamplight with a cup of black coffee going cold next to you and an unfiltered cigarette between your lips.
Did I mention I am going to be nauseatingly cliche for at least the first three posts? No? Be forewarned.
Now, I expect that most of these will be shorter in length. This is largely due to the fact I have the relative pinkie strength of a newborn babe. Before I wrap up this first one though, I would like to take a moment to reminisce about the first time I ever wrote anything significant on a typewriter.
It was my sophomore year of college. I was still a hopelessly naive, and therefore romantic, young literature major. A night of drinking with buddies had just wrapped up and I just happened to catch a glimpse of Alma peaking out from under the bed I so desperately wanted to pass out in. I am still not sure why I decided then, of all times, to drag her out and brew a full pot of coffee but I did. I had never used a typewriter before. The first few pages were obviously a mess. Eventually though the booze wore off and the coffee settled in and I found a halting rhythm. I landed on the fleeting nature that is inspiration. In that moment I pictured it as a passing house guest unexpectedly arriving one day and leaving on a schedule known only to them. To this day it is still one of the best things I have ever written. Sadly, the lone piece of paper it covered was lost in one of the many moves since then. It is better than way, I think. Sometimes things are simply better as a fond memory.
Hopefully that makes sense to someone. Hopefully many more fond memories will be made during this series. If anyone else out there frequently uses a typewriter please post images in the comments below or tag me in them on Instagram – my handle is @connorgriffinwrites. Please like and follow for more updates on #TypewriterTidbits and all of my other projects.
Until next time, try doing it the old way.
P.S. A big thank you to my fiance for putting up with my ruckus as she tries to study for law school finals. She is seriously the best.