User:Simsilikesims/Copiloted/Typewriter

The Quirky Charm of Typewriters: A Love Letter to Clackety Keys

Because nothing says "I'm serious about my writing" like a machine older than your grandparents.

Ah, typewriters. Those hulking behemoths of yesteryear that sit on desks like relics from an alternate universe, where writing required brute strength and the patience of a saint. For the uninitiated, a typewriter is essentially a keyboard with commitment issues: press a key, and it leaves an indelible mark on paper. No backspace. No delete. Just the glorious sound of *CLACK CLACK DING*.

A Brief History of Clack

Typewriters were the apex of human ingenuity back in their heyday. Invented in the mid-19th century, they quickly became the must-have gadgets for anyone who wanted to write a letter, pen a novel, or look outrageously intellectual in a coffee shop. Each model came with its own quirks, from the elegant Underwood to the industrial-strength Royal, capable of doubling as a blunt weapon in times of need.

But typewriters weren’t just tools; they were statements. Hemingway hammered away at one, channeling his existential angst into terse sentences. Agatha Christie crafted murderous plots, each keystroke a tiny, sinister step toward her next big twist. And then there was Hunter S. Thompson, who probably used his typewriter as much for writing as he did for fending off imaginary bats.

The Glorious Mechanics

Operating a typewriter is akin to taming a wild beast. First, there’s the ribbon—a spool of ink-drenched fabric that inevitably smears your fingers like you’ve been fingerprinted at a crime scene. Then there’s the platen, a cylindrical roller that holds the paper in place and doubles as a percussion instrument when you angrily bash it after a typo. And let’s not forget the space bar, which on a typewriter is less of a key and more of a lever you could use to row a boat.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the carriage return lever. This majestic appendage requires a dramatic sweep of the arm to reposition the paper. It’s the literary equivalent of a mic drop—every time you hit the end of a line, you feel like shouting, “And that’s how it’s done!”

Why Use a Typewriter in 2025?

In this age of tablets, smartphones, and voice-to-text technology, using a typewriter is a bit like riding a unicycle to work—it makes no practical sense, but it sure gets you noticed. The clackety sound of keys hitting paper is ASMR for the nostalgic soul, and there’s something undeniably satisfying about watching the letters appear with each precise strike. Plus, a typewriter forces you to think before you write. There’s no autocorrect, no Grammarly, no “undo.” If you want to fix a mistake, you either embrace it as “artsy” or break out the correction tape and pray no one notices. Fortunately, almost nobody uses carbon copies for triplicate forms anymore.

The Trials and Tribulations

Of course, typewriters come with their own unique set of challenges. For one, they’re not exactly portable. Lugging a typewriter to the park for an impromptu writing session is a surefire way to herniate a disc. And then there’s the noise—a symphony of clacking keys and bell dings that could wake the dead. If you live in an apartment, expect noise complaints from neighbors who think you’ve opened a blacksmith workshop.

And let’s talk about typos. Accidentally hit the wrong key? Congratulations, you’ve just created a permanent monument to your clumsiness. Some typewriter enthusiasts embrace the imperfections, calling them “part of the charm.” Others quietly rip the paper from the platen, crumple it into a ball, and hurl it across the room like a failed three-point shot.

The Comeback Kid

Despite its drawbacks, the typewriter is experiencing a resurgence. Millennials and Gen Z, fed up with the distractions of modern technology, are rediscovering the joys of analog writing. It’s not uncommon to see a typewriter in a co-working space, surrounded by digital natives sporting ironic mustaches and vintage glasses. For them, typing on a typewriter isn’t just an activity; it’s a lifestyle, complete with sepia-toned Instagram posts and captions like, “Working on my novel. #TypewriterLife.”

Even Hollywood has jumped on the bandwagon. From moody period dramas to quirky indie films, typewriters are making cameo appearances as symbols of authenticity and creative genius. Never mind that most of the actors using them probably don’t know how to load a ribbon or adjust the margins.

Typewriters vs. Computers

Let’s face it: in a head-to-head battle, computers win on sheer functionality. They’re faster, quieter, and come with the lifesaving ability to delete your bad ideas before they see the light of day. But where’s the romance in that? A computer doesn’t care about your creative struggles. It doesn’t reward you with a satisfying *ding* when you reach the end of a line. It doesn’t make you feel like a tortured artist, pouring your soul onto paper one deliberate keystroke at a time.

Typewriters, on the other hand, demand your full attention. They ask you to slow down, to savor the act of writing. They’re not just machines; they’re partners in crime, accomplices in your quest for literary greatness—or at least a halfway decent grocery list.

The Final Word

So, should you buy a typewriter? That depends. Do you enjoy retro aesthetics, hand cramps, and the constant smell of WD-40? Are you willing to trade convenience for the tactile joy of manual typing? If so, welcome to the club. Just remember: owning a typewriter isn’t just about writing—it’s about making a statement. And that statement is, “I’m quirky, I’m creative, and I haven’t figured out how to use Google Docs.”

In the end, typewriters are more than tools—they’re time machines, transporting us to an era when words were permanent, mistakes were cherished, and every sentence felt like an accomplishment. So go ahead, dust off that old Smith-Corona, load up a fresh sheet of paper, and let the clacking begin. Just don’t forget the correction tape. You’re going to need it.

Notes and footnotes

• This article mainly applies to manual typewriters, which relied on manual fingerstroke force. If you hear someone "typing too hard" on their keyboard, it might be because they learned typing on one of these, around the 1980s or prior. White out ink was required for any and all corrections, making accuracy very important.
  • (If compared to a phone, this would be a rotary phone. )

• Electric/IBM Selectric typewriters: If compared to phones, these typewriters were like the equivalent of touch-tone phones. They no longer required finger strength to operate and it was easier to load the paper straight, but corrections still had to be made manually. Correction tape soon became a thing. Slightly less sloppy on the look of the corrections, but still very visible.

• Electronic typewriters: These would be like the equivalent of a a cordless landline or cell flip-phone if compared to phones. They improved on the electronic typewriter by adding specialized function keys and including built in correction tape. You could still tell if something had been corrected, however.

• Computer keyboards, and printers: Finally, at long last, the age of text-based word processors. Finally, more than one page could be loaded into the machine at once. And soon after, the annoying inaccurate spell check that always replaced everything that was a proper noun. You had to manually add every word you use to the spelling correction dictionary. Hello Clippy! By the way, if you have an old PC computer from the 1990s, if you can find a compatible printer, you can still use it offline as a typewriter. Don't bother hooking it up to the net: pictures took 30 minutes to load with a 56k modem, firewalls were not built in yet, and even back then computer viruses were rampant: one destroyed one of my college papers by crashing the software I was using while I was trying to write it. Thanks for nothing, infectious jerks. Then there was annoying adware like Bonzi Buddy. Bonzi Buddy actually turned EVERYTHING on your computer into adware as it ran in the background and popped up in front of other programs when you wanted it least. At least I was able to uninstall it.
• Adding pictures, tables, and fancy stuff like macros or scripts to documents was something that came down the road later to word processing software. Windows 3.1 would have been dated Windows 1993 if it had been titled by year. That's when AOL mass mailed the market with floppy disks and cds for their internet dial-up service. So did now-obsolete email services like Juno.

• Yup, and I lived through it all, being more than 50 years older than MS Copilot. I remember the hardships, as well as the joys of actually playing active games with other neighborhood kids. Tag, red rover, jump rope, red light-green light, Simon Says to name several. Then there were the classic ball games like softball, flag football, baseball, soccer/Spanish football, volleyball, ping pong, and more. Our parents yelled for us (and then AT us) if we did not come home before the streetlights came on. Plus most of the time that would also mean we were late for dinner. We actually LIKED playing board games together as kids since video games were either 8 bit with MIDI soundtracks or did not exist. This includes Atari console games. Even in the 90s, when I was in college, internet text browsers were common, and search engines were few. Most people used beige or square desktop machines. Everything was located by following links from other pages and bookmarking sites.
  • Even now, for parents I recommend one of the rules my mom had for me: at least one hour outside in the sunshine daily. There is a reason kids then got more exercise than kids now do. (Now if today's office workers would stop eating oversized meals with portions for lumberjacks).

• And yes, when school funding was cut, I DID walk uphill both ways. That is because a hill I had to walk every weekday to school was shaped like a giant skateboard half-pipe. GIANT being the key word here. Some of the boys in my class who had ZERO common sense decided it would be a great idea to go down it ON skateboards, laying on their stomachs. I just watched them, wondering if they were kidding, then shaking my head in disapproval. If asked, I would have NOPEd out.Just ten more years, and I can be finally declared a senior citizen and even take my share of retirement pay. Very few computers are older than I am, and most are no longer in operation.