Some Blogs Just Write Themselves
"Gabriel, did you want to see my new typewriter?"
Gabriel was busy playing Lego Star Wars on the game cabinet. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He paused his game and followed me to the office.
There she was, sitting on my desk, freshly unboxed: an Olivetti MS 25 Premier Plus manual, portable typewriter. She was my gift to myself this season. I had decided a few weeks ago to use my upcoming, 13-day holiday vacation to write fiction, and the typewriter was key to my plans.
You see, years ago, after I left Amazon.com, Janette and I rented a cabin in the woods for a week. I brought a typewriter with us for writing; Janette worked on writing and art. It was a creative, working week for both of us. After a few days of pure misery and delay, I sat down and started writing. Using a typewriter, I couldn't back up and obssessively edit (as is my style). Instead, I just typed. By the time we left the cabin, I had a short story and good start on a novel-type-thing.
This is what I had in mind when I purchased the new typewriter. Now I was sharing it with Gabriel.
"So this is Daddy's typewriter. Please don't touch."
"I won't."
Gabriel looked on as I inserted a piece of paper. I turned the paper feed twice and pinned my single sheet in place with the paper guide. I reaquainted myself with the unforgiving nature of a manual typewriter. Hit the key. Too light. Extra space. In high school, I trained on a manual and had a manual at home, but I had fallen out of practice. By the end, I had "My son's name is Gabriel. And his sister is Hannah. XShe [ding - manual return] is very cute!"
"What do you think of my typewriter?" I asked.
"That's cool," he began, "but where's your new tie fighter?"
-- Dad
