Wishes

I want a typewriter.

Mmmm....typewriter.

As I said in a recent post, I'm contemplating how to live my life a little more deeply and deliberately.  One aspect I come back to is my love of the written word and my former drive to craft stories of my own.  I haven't completed my notes/thoughts on bettering my life (Hey - I said DELIBERATE alright?  Off my case!) but I do know that part of my problem with the written word is my tendency to waffle and then wander away.

I write a paragraph or two, futz with the words, delete whole sentences, futz some more, and then wander off in search of easier pursuits.  I leave convinced of my inablilty to write when really, it's my inability to commit to anything more academically challenging than a tv game show by the time the work day is over and the baby is in bed.

I have wanted a typewriter for as long as I can remember.  I blame Murder, She Wrote.  When I was probably five years old or so, my mother gave me an old gray-green one that set in it's own case.  It was old, the keys got stuck, and it probably weighed as much as I did.  I loved it!  When we moved to California from Ohio, she made me get rid of it, saying we had a computer now and it wasn't worth the move.  Pfft.

For my 21st birthday my parents purchased an old and dinged up typewriter for me with the intention of refurbishing it.  Sadly, college was in full swing and I didn't take it with me.  About a year and a half later they sold the house and, in the garage sale in preparation of the move, sold the typewriter.  Pfft.  (To be far, this time they asked and I gave permission as I knew it was not going to be refurbished any time soon.)

You may think I'm kidding about my typewriter love but this website is where I fantasy shop.  *drool*

Now that you know the backstory...

Last night I was sitting with my laptop and wishing the battery in it wasn't completely kaput.  I have to charge up about every hour or so.  I was also wishing it wasn't so warm on my leg and it wasn't so distracting.  I had ten windows open, kept clicking into Facebook, and screwing around with a few other things.  I thought about all that internal noise we keep plugging into.  I thought about all the effort to be near a plug, remain connected, deal with glitches.  If I could have something that allowed me to write, forced me to focus, and wouldn't allow me to fiddle with paragraphs, instead helped me to move forward through the pages I would have a useful tool to help build my skills.

What magical machine could do such things?!?

Typewriter!

It wouldn't have to be beautiful like the ones I linked to above.  It would only need to be a workhorse, something to help me build the strength and focus that I seek.

I haven't convinced Craig yet but I'm thinking that a few well chosen things to be sold would get me a decent starter machine and put me on the way toward discipline. (More on discipline in a later post.)

Ahh...to google, perchance to dream.