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Nov. 3rd, 2024 01:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
evening_tsarHa, little did any of you suspect, I too have been drunkenly writing this night, hacking out derivative retrograde space opera on a manual typewriter.
That's right, a Quiet Tab Deluxe Underwood typewriter, circa 1963. Feeding used paper scraps into the roller like belts of bullets into a Maxim gun, hitting big fat keys attached to big iron arms punching tangible ink letters directly into meat-space paper RATATATRATATATRATATAT.
But it's not death I'm spewing out, but life as new worlds appear on the page. Not the screen, the page.
It's a Godly feeling, never to be recreated on lousy touchscreens.
Now, if I could only figure out how to end the story. . .
(Not too worried for the moment about the potential allegories. Just as well: too blatant allegories make for lousy literature).
That's right, a Quiet Tab Deluxe Underwood typewriter, circa 1963. Feeding used paper scraps into the roller like belts of bullets into a Maxim gun, hitting big fat keys attached to big iron arms punching tangible ink letters directly into meat-space paper RATATATRATATATRATATAT.
But it's not death I'm spewing out, but life as new worlds appear on the page. Not the screen, the page.
It's a Godly feeling, never to be recreated on lousy touchscreens.
Now, if I could only figure out how to end the story. . .
(Not too worried for the moment about the potential allegories. Just as well: too blatant allegories make for lousy literature).
