Touchless

Wow, abundant typos here. I can see how a swipe-n-slide lifestyle makes one's fingers flabby. Clearly I need more typing practice.

Typed on a noisy, oily, fingerprinted, wonderful Montgomery Ward Signature 513 (Brother), c. 1966

Hello, World!

Typed on a 1957 Underwood Universal (from the post-ENIAC age)



What I didn't mention in the typecast is that this means I'm also dipping my toe into being a mobile-computing-device-owner, although I have yet to desire or need a "smart" phone. What's driving this decision is mainly my desire to edit my novel, and not having any time in which to do it, or access to the home computer (where the draft resides) when I do have the time. Inspired by this photo of an AlphaSmart/tablet hookup and Mr. Speegle's own foray into the tablet-driven revision lifestyle (and emboldened with unspent Christmas cash from my family) I'm dipping my toes in. So it's all for writing, you see, and not solely gadget lust.

That's my story, anyhow. If you could have told 30-years-ago-me that I've be able, in my lifetime, to have Star-Trek like technology in my lap, and program it, I would have scoffed you right out of my room. Not that I would have been able to hear you over the din of the cassette drive, mind you.

Personal Best

Typed on a 1966 Montgomery Ward (Brother) Signature 513

Nada

Typed on a 1956 Smith-Corona Silent-Super with excellent numerals

Ujtupocalypse

Whoops, I guess three weeks have passed since I last poked my nose in here. I think as we age, time no longer travels linearly, but swoops and peaks and dips like a roller-coaster gone out of control. How is it that in the heart of Nano I was making regular updates, and now... not so much?

Holiday plans are taking most of my time, but I'm looking forward to the quiet days as we finish off the old year and usher in the new. No typewriters under the tree this year, but that's all right -- I've had a bountiful year. We're trying as much as possible to scale back a bit: focus less on the "stuff" and keep the focus on the kids (which is far more fun anyway.) Aside from the usual hiding and wrapping, my days have been filled with naps and trying to coax sodoku solutions out of my brain. In all: quiet.

So, how's the end of the world look from your location?

Well Done, Rhino Wrimos

That whumping sound you heard was Wrimos collapsing in a heap after another thirty-day charge of the Typewriter Brigade. No matter what state your wordcount bar was in at the end of the month -- purple victory, blue almost-there, or barely-budged -- or even if you were cheering from the sidelines, it's quite a spectacle and a huge effort for all involved, attempting to squeeze an overlarge creative project into an already over-squoze life. (I'm still getting past the "invent new words" stage.) Like Scrooge, I wake up blinking in the sunlight -- or winter rains -- and marvel that the spirits of Nano got it all done in one month.

Personally, I'm glad to have a Saturday where I'm allowing myself to sleep in. I put the typing table and Beast back in their hibernating spots, and today, I get to shuffle around an end table, an electric piano, and several bins in storage as we attempt to jam an overlarge Christmas tree into our already over-squoze house. I've got a backlog of books to read, a story to review (hello, Mr. Speegle), and normal life to resume. And sometime in about four weeks or so, a mysterious box to open, jammed with the output of an over-caffeinated, under-rested Rhino on the keys.