Bigly Typers or Shrimp Typers?

The Bigly Typer:


The Shrimp Typer:


Post-Script: They're both good word threshers. One's obviously more portable than the other. For me, the key to entering into that creative zone is being able to focus on the words in my head, my fingers on keys and, to a lesser extent, ink on paper, without excessive fuss or distraction. The Behemoth Olympia SG-3 achieves this by its in-your-face massiveness: it literally blocks your view of distractions in front of you, while elevating the printing position so you're looking forward, not down at the table.

For the shrimp typers, the challenge for me is not getting distracted by the machine's less-than-optimal performance, or erratic behavior. For example, I'd sat at this very same spot in Sweet Cup's loft the day before, with the Hermes Rocket and the same type of coffee drink, and didn't have the same creative flow going. Certainly, we can feel more or less creative one day to the next, but something about the Skyriter's keyboard just felt more natural. I don't even think it had to do with its more ergonomical carriage return lever, either. Funny enough, there were a few skips with the Skyriter that the Rocket didn't have, yet I got along better with the Skyriter.

I noticed midway through the piece that, because of the seating position, my eyes were closer to the machine than at a normal-height desk and chair setup, helping me to focus on the keyboard and helping to reduce distractions; yet I didn't sense that the day before with the Rocket. I guess that's the mystery of creative writing, trying to figure out why one day it works and the next day it doesn't.

These brief moments of inspiration aren't predictable; one has to be prepared to strike (literally!) at a moment's notice; hence the reason to always have a machine set up at home, or in a grab-&-go bag, ready for action.

There's a confidence I have when writing on the SG-3 that I don't often have on these shrimp typers, and it has to do with reliability. Less chance for hick-up or glitch with the big fellow, one less thing to pull my mind away from the inner dialog, that's so fragile to maintain. I have this same confidence on reliable machines like the Smith-Corona Silent-Super, that's pretty much living up to its name.

I think one secret to creative writing with manual typewriters is this issue of reliability. It's not that we must go down the rabbit hole of joining a cult (Hermes, Olympia - pick your poison), but rather that the still small voice inside us remains small and faint, we have to find those nagging distractions and eliminate them. Some machines are just more reliable than others, meaning we have more time to join those fragile chains of thought together. I think you can catch a glimpse of this when you see photos of 20th century writers with their machines. Many authors switched from one machine to the other, finally choosing one brand or model because it just works. It's all too easy to forget this when we are mainly collectors and hobbyists.

More Escapement Excitement

Post-Script: There are too many other adjustments on these machines to cover in a reasonably-sized video; best to get your own Typewriter Repair Bible, if you're interested. I didn't cover the adjustments for the two positions of the escapement dog rocker, which involve bending some arms to set them such that, when engaged with the escapement cog, the teeth of the cog and rocker dog both align properly. There is also advice for adjusting the escapement trip point based on the heaviness of hand, or technique, of the typist. Another good reason to favor these 5- and 6-series machines in your collection: not only do they perform well, but they are perhaps the easiest to service, with the most complete service literature available - and many of these machines also sport the easy-to-remove platen feature, for gaining access to clean the rubber rollers, paper pan and ribbon guides.

Here's the video that covers this adjustment in detail:

Nekkid-Riter Storage Box + More

Post-Script: Typecast via Hermes 3000 Nekkid-Riter. I wrote that last paragraph partly in jest, earlier today after having completed the storage box for the Nekkid-Riter. But later on, I decided to take a look at the electric Coronet Automatic 12. I used an old extension cord to replace its original power cord (that was spliced in two places, badly frayed and with an intermittent open near the plug). Upon powering it on, lo and behold it works! I spent the next hour or two cleaning, degreasing and lubricating. The insides are still not entirely clean, since I only hit the critical areas where debris and residue might affect the machine's operation, rather than spotlessly cleaning every surface.

The carriage rails were grinding, so a thorough cleaning, degreasing and re-oiling has smoothed it out nicely. I spent a lot of time cleaning the type slugs with alcohol, swabs and toothpicks, the result being that, with its new ribbon, it types very nicely. The body and storage case were filthy, so plenty of window cleaner, swabs and paper towels were consumed, but the results are enticing.

I'm not certain I like the chocolate-brown color, but I suppose it's less drab than that of my older Smith-Corona Silent. I was originally thinking about calling it the "Brown Streak," from its speedy operation and color, but my wife, in her wisdom, convinced me that this term might be misconstrued as being somewhat scatological. Yes, it's a fast typer; darned if I can't throw words on paper at a speedy clip. This is certainly an office workhorse machine, but it's rather loud; I can only imagine what an office of these machines sounded like, back in the mid-20th century. I suppose if the room were clouded in cigarette smoke (which they often were), it might dampen the racket. Actually, it's not quite as loud as my brother's Hermes 10 electric (that, you might recall, is on permanent loan to the Guild Cinema).

The rear, hinge-side of the case is badly rusted. It looks like it sat up on end in a wet environment. This is one of the few circumstances where I had no qualms about applying some WD-40, followed by a wire brush and plenty of paper towels. It's better than it was, certainly.

So, am I going to keep it? I suppose ... if someone were to twist my arm ... perhaps. I can imagine if, needing to put some high volume of words down on paper at a speedy clip, and the noise were no objection, having one electric typewriter wouldn't be so bad, especially one having the wide carriage and ergonomics of this series of SCM, and with a standard cloth ribbon. But that's it! No electric collection for me, no sir!

Here's a glamor shot of the new clan member. I still need a name for it, something combining its chocolate appearance with speedy operation. It does have that two-tone espresso/coffee look, so perhaps some caffeine-themed name would be appropriate. Jitters? Hmm ... I'll think more about it.