In 1972, I stumbled upon a Smith-Corona typewriter during a devastating flood that hit Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. The flood was caused by the overflowing of the Susquehanna River, which runs from upstate New York to Chesapeake Bay in Maryland.
I had never been to Wilkes-Barre before, but I joined a cleanup crew and spent long hours working alongside others. We worked tirelessly for weeks, cleaning up debris and restoring the city to its former glory. After a month of hard work, I decided to take home the typewriter that I found buried in the debris.
Over the years, I used the typewriter alongside my computer for writing. It allowed me to focus solely on my writing without distractions like email and social media. There was something unique about typing on paper compared to typing on a computer screen – it felt different and provided a different experience.
As I typed away on my typewriter, I couldn’t help but reflect on the history of these machines and their impact on literature. Famous writers like Herman Mankiewicz used typewriters as their primary writing tool, and their words continue to inspire readers today.
Each time I loaded a fresh sheet of paper into my typewriter, I wondered about how using this machine might affect my writing style compared to using a computer. Would it give me new insights into storytelling? Perhaps.
In any case, owning a typewriter has become one of my most treasured possessions – not just because of its historical significance but also because of what it allows me to do as a writer.
Years later, as I sat down at my desk with my trusty Smith-Corona by my side, I realized that it wasn’t just any old machine – it was an essential tool that had helped me develop my craft and sharpen my skills as a writer.
