Sarah, started writing a novel when she was ten. Six years later, she’s still working on it and will continue to do so for another couple of years before she (possibly) considers it to be (almost) complete. As all writers know, great books are not written, they are rewritten.
And they are edited.
And then they are edited again.
And again.
And sometimes those edits are accompanied by tears and muttered frustrations. It’s all a part of the writer’s life. There’s no other life quite like it.
Yesterday, I got a glimpse of the writer’s life from a different perspective. I was in our local Goodwill and happened upon an elderly Underwood typewriter. I looked at it in awe. I circled it and examined it and then tentatively pressed one key. One little ol’ key. It was so hard to push I felt like I needed a nap afterward.
As I stood and stared at that relic from a past writer’s life, I thought about the almost incomprehensible task of using that machine to write a letter. Or a school paper. Or–perish the thought–an entire book. If the writer typed out a paragraph they didn’t like, they were in trouble. If they misspelled a word, they were in trouble again. They had to do all edits with a pen or pencil and then retype the whole manuscript again. And again.
I would have gone Stark. Raving. Mad.
I am so happy that my writerly daughter and her writerly mom reside right here in 2012—the age of the computer. the age of editing.
Throughout Sarah’s six-year, novel-writing adventure, she has edited and formatted. And then reformatted. Again. She has added page numbers. She has experimented with fonts. She has cut and pasted paragraphs. She has looked up word definitions without ever lifting her eyes or her hands from the keyboard.
She has prodigiously and courageously utilized the delete key when she saw that whole chapters weren’t working. (Fair Warning: using the delete key in the ‘Whole Chapter Erasing Application may result in a tear. Or two.) In short, Sarah has spent six years and hundreds of hours becoming best buddies with words and with the exhilarating, frustrating process of writing.
But if she (or I) had been writing 70 years ago? On an Underwood typewriter? I cannot even imagine.
After seeing that typewriter in Goodwill, my hat is off to every single writer of those earlier eras when words were a joy but the capturing of words was an excruciating struggle. My hat is off to every writer who created great art on less than friendly machines.
In short, my hat is off to every single writer from the era of the Underwood.
OK–typed this and it disappeared so I’ll try again. I learned to type on a manual Royal typewriter and used the eraser, correct type, carbon paper, and cut papers up to staple in order to retype a term paper. Some papers could not have corrections and had to be retyped. When I taught typing my students learned on yes–manual Royal typewriters just as I did and I used the same practice work assignments my teacher had used. I did not use an electric typewriter until after college graduation. Jim had a difficult time convincing me to get a computer in the mid 90’s because I loved the typewriter. Now I have a new computer as of Saturday night that Wyatt’s company built for me as mine “died” on Thursday night. With the new computer my old keyboard would not connect but I found one of Jim’s “throw aways” and it works and is wireless. Wyatt was concerned that my printer might not work but he was able to download the drivers. One purchase sometimes leads to others. So glad for a great computer guy who could save for me.
I started teaching myself to type when in 4th grade…on my brother’s NOT electric typewriter…with his instructional book. Junior High I typed many reports even though some teachers preferred long-hand (are any of them left?). When I hit Senior High and took typing, I aced it both years & my friends were at that point learning as I had been in 4th grade. Again, not electric. Business school brought an electric typewriter into my life….it. was.wonderful.
Onward to first “real” job in a Quaity Assurance office….typing their policy & procedures manual (love that white correction tape!)…then to 2nd “real” job in a psych dept & patient records and then to a job with a college where they hooked up a computer right before I left. Not knowing about the differences, I really didn’t care.
I returned to work part-time after the birth of my son and was the secretary for my church. Guess what? A computer and our computer guy changed us over to MS products (and a mouse) as soon as they hit the market. I was a bit concerned about why I would require a mouse in my office…he had to explain. I’ve been an MS “junkie” ever since! Well, and Photoshop!
What I’ve realized over the years, is that the training I put my little determined self through in elementary school (“aaa…fff…sss…ddd…the quick brown fox,” and on and on) made the keyboard my 2nd language as much as reading music is a 2nd language to you, Becky. And it doesn’t matter if it’s an old manual typewriter or a new ergonomic keyboard….it’s all the same, just a different “feel”.
Now manual/electric typewriters are relics….what’s that make me!!!!! 🙂
Guerrina, how fun to read your keyboarding journey; you’ve been around the block a few times! All I have to say is that you are a very diligent person to have done so much self-training and to have learned so much on your own. And I think it’s hilarious that you wondering about a mouse in your office. My, my, has terminology changed over the years!
I AM a secretarial dinosaur – a secretarius, I presume. I learned my skills on a typewriter that sometimes felt like you needed a sledge hammer to get the keys to work. Hence, my arthritic hands. I love computers for many reasons and dictation equipment. I still detest carbon paper and carboned forms (which still exist in the legal community – as insane as that may appear). Oh, the agony of making a typographical error in a document with 4 carbon copies and having the delicately place those little pieces of paper between each carbon sheet and the page and then take that blasted typewriter eraser and pray to the patron saint of secretaries that you did not erase a hole right through the page. Oh, how glorious when the correction is complete – ONLY to find that you had failed to remove one of those little pieces of paper before typing the correct letter or word and, oh the horror of it all, there is a blank space on one of the carbon copies. So, you start over and over and over.
However, there was something nice about the slower pace of correspondence. There was something very exhilerating to take dictation in shorthand for hours on end and then transcribe a well thought out document. You see, the first edits were done many times through the shorthand dictation. My bosses would look at my reaction to some of their statements or opinions (I could make very descriptive faces or shake my head or even say “What are you talking about?”).
Now, I see the same document 100’s of times in a day via e-mail. If I haven’t finished the 14th draft of a document in 10 minutes, it seems I am too slow. Oh, how I miss the days of stamped mail, three days before I would see a document again, the thoughtfulness of edits and changes to a document because of the amount of work it would entail and the combined effort of the first draft that was produced from my shorthand notebook. I do NOT miss carbon paper!
Mary, I remember the erasers, the correction tape, the carbons….I don’t miss any of them! However, like you, I miss the “slower” pace of that time…it was almost more formal!
Mary, you still use CARBON paper?? Oh my. I can’t even imagine. I remember using it ages and ages ago and being so very grateful when it disappeared from my life. You must be an amazingly patient woman to deal with all that.
Your bosses are definitely blessed to have you–you’re not just typist but it sounds like you give great insight to their dictation and letters that they truly value. A good secretary/administrative assistant (and all the other things you do) is a rare treasure for a boss. I hope they truly appreciate you and your variety of skills!
And I loved your “secretarius” line. 🙂