I have been made aware of quite a lot of debate these days about the usefulness of typewriters for drafting and to be honest, it keys (hee, hee, pun intended) right in with my discussion about recognizing the value of mistakes and risk taking as crucial to the writing process, something drafting on a computer cannot capture. My good friend and writer Monda Fason discusses this on her blog, which she has actually posted in typewritten form here.
The above Italian typewriter, photgraphed in the design exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art when the guard wasn’t looking (not supposed to take photos there, apparently) is also in homage to her.
Her friend, the Kentucky Typewriterman also has some eloquent words to say about this on his ebay site, where he sells lovingly refurbished typewriters for much less than it actually costs him to refurbish them. He is also a writer and a writing teacher. Read what he has to say about typwriters and drafting here (keep scrolling once you get there the whole listing, though ended, is worth reading). You’ll also get a look at another lovely example of design.
I have a beautiful, meticulously maintained (not by me) old Underwood in my office. I may have to go see if I can find some ribbon for it now!
Go, search for typewriters at Church thrift stores and flea markets and yard sales or on ebay! Godspeed!
Because I’ve been deeply involved in reading Eric Maisel’s wonderful book, Fearless Creating, I’ve been thinking a lot about mistakes. Failure. Blowing it.
In order to succeed as artists, and in order for our students to succeed, we must feel the freedom to take risks. Taking risks often results in failure. Just creating can be taking a risk, because it inevitably involves these mistakes.
We must give our students and ourselves the freedom to fail.
Working writers already know this. Witness Anne Lamott’s famous “Shitty First Drafts” chapter in Bird by Bird (if you haven’t read this book yet and you’re interested in writing, you simply must). Eric Maisel writes that we must view creating as “a mistake making adventure.” For this reason John Irving says half of his life is revision. Philip Roth offers to hold up his own bad drafts beside anyone else’s just for sheer badness.
What does this mean in our test-driven, product-driven, results-driven society? We simply must make room for teaching our students that mistakes, and failure are the only route to success. The first step may well be freely sharing our own mistakes with them, sharing our own drafts, our own bad writing. Not just the good stuff.
In my own introductory creative writing classes, I do this by not grading my student’s creative work. Yes, I respond to it thoughtfully, carefully, and in writing, talking specifically about strengths and weaknesses. But I don’t grade it. Lots of other work in this class does receive a grade, peer reviews, book reviews, cover critiques, reflective work. Just not the creative stuff. My students love this. It gives them the freedom to try new things. It gives them the freedom to fail.
How do you give your students the freedom to fail?