The Guardian has a fantastic slideshow of some famous authors posing with their typewriters. Ah, the literary charm of a typewriter, with its noisy writing process and vintage charm! I'm mad for them and the idea that they were such tools of trade for so many writers I love sends a thrill down my spine.
You type so much quicker than you can think on a computer. On a typewriter, you have to think. Another virtue is simplicity. Typewriters are good at only one thing: putting words on paper. “If I’m on a computer, there’s no way I can concentrate on just writing, said Jon Roth, 23, a journalist who is writing a book on typewriters. “I’ll be checking my e-mail, my Twitter.” When he uses a typewriter, Mr. Roth said: “I can sit down and I know I’m writing. It sounds like I’m writing.” credits
The click of a classic typewriter is the best sound I know. Only the click of my Nikon seconds that. The sound of those old keys jumping up and down would lull me into a trance when I wrote up in the attic of my parents house. My dad had a manual typewriter and a stack of paper there, which I used to write the word I wished and project towards a better future.
Which I had, but I still want to be a writer. I want to write stories for a living. I want to win a Pulitzer and spend the rest of my days putting down my inspiration, so that one day I may be photographed in front of my computer. No cigarette in my hand and no black coffee on my desk, because I don't smoke neither am a coffee addict like so many literary romance. Just because.