This is my “writerdeck” — a term I just learned, meaning a sort of distraction free writing device. I really enjoyed that article, because it reminded me of the time I spent when I was young installing FreeDOS and Linux on old 386 machines, and how a computer for me was like a little world you could just get lost in. When I was younger I was always looking for that, my Sony Walkman was maybe the first iteration, but I remember dreaming about having my own Gameboy, getting lost in Links Awakening or Ghost Babel — and when I got one, that’s exactly what I did, and probably over-did.

When I first bought a typewriter I wanted something that approximated the speed of typing on a computer. I bought an IBM Selectric. I had seen a video somewhere of Hunter S. Thompson extolling the virtues of a fast typewriter, removing the barriers between you and the page, and I had to have one. It really is like typing on a page full of gun powder, and for the type of writing I was doing at the time, sort of stream of consciousness freewriting, it made sense. It was loud, it hummed while it was on, but it had the ability to magically lift mistakes right off the page and I couldn’t type any faster than the metal word ball could punch out the letters. They are heavy as well, and use a special type of ribbon cartridge. I still think they’re amazing machines.

Now though, I value something that requires a little more effort, and not just because the keys take real finger strength to fling the hammers at the page, but also because I can’t just type at a hundred words a minute. I have to think through my thoughts before I start typing, it slows me down. This might be where our “writerdeck” approaches really are quite similar. Intentionally boiling down the essence of the practice. Removing distractions and finding that creative boost in the restrictions.

The Olivetti Lettera 22, an Italian made machine, I absolutely love the font. It is quite portable and comes with a nice carrying case. I keep a set of folders inside the case along with the typewriter, color coded for the type of writing I’m doing: journaling, fiction/freewriting, and projects like video scripts or blog posts. On the left of each folder is just blank pages to pull from and on the right is completed pages. Sometimes I’ll come back to something I wrote months before and pick it back up, or just enjoy reading through it again.

It’s a marvel of a machine, it has programmable tab stops, good for making lists or simple tables. I have no idea how they achieved that on a completely manual machine. You can change the ribbon color to red at the flip of a switch, and it uses bog standard ribbon you can easily get online from a distributor like Ribbons Unlimited. I also keep a small roll-on whiteout pen in the case, for occasions where I really want to make something clean (mistakes are inevitable) but usually I’ll just x out or dash out my errors.

Really anything can become a little world for you to get lost in, you could collect tens of typewriters and never even write a page, and that might be just what you’re looking for. I collect and use old cameras, less because I care about the images they produce, but more because I’m interested in how they become an extension of myself, how they feel in my hands, their little quirks and interesting design considerations. For writing though, I’m interested in tools that help me get words on the page and for me this works.

I like this idea of a “writerdeck”, I hope it catches on and more people get inspired to write. Sometimes I fear that if we don’t keep creating and sharing real writing that took effort and time and thought, and if people feel that it’s harder and harder and not worth the effort, we’ll only be left with these probabilistic averages that can be readily bought by the token.