My first typewriter was a pre-loved Imperial. I was 12 and had wanted a typewriter for years. I tried all I could to persuade an older brother to allow me to use his but could never persuade him to do so.

It wasn't just the fascination of the machine that intrigued me but, more importantly, the reality that my hand-writing was - and remains - an appalling mess. At school I had had to write 'cursive' but could never imitate the beautifully shaped, spaced and horizontal lines of characters of words produced by my teacher.

My writing sloped backwards, forwards, was upright, large, small, above and below the line and on unlined paper, inevitably skewed upwards or downwards and lacking any sense of parallel equivalence with the line above.

I would re-write and re-write attempting to produce something aesthetically reasonable. I couldn't.

I tried a myriad assortment of pencils and pens, both cheap and expensive but all to no avail. The best script I could achieve, I discovered, was with a very fine point drawing pen. However, even vague legibility would disappear after a half page or so, my words becoming an unintelligible scribble.

Eventually, I resorted to writing almost exclusively in upper case. Sadly or unfortunately for me, I was often not allowed to do this. I still believe that it was one of the reasons that I continually failed to pass. examinations. - How could a marker be expected to award marks to something unintelligble, regardless of whether what emanated from my mind to paper was accurate or not?

So for me, the typewriter was a saviour, particularly as I loved to write. Once out of school and earning, I was able to save for and purchase an Olivetti Lettera 32 which was a beautiful portable machine, reliable, relatively light and easy to move around, well made and outstandingly reliable.

I still feel the loss of that typewriter, it being unkindly taken from me by a supposed friend, at a time when I was going through a period of substantial hardship.

Today, of course, (or perhaps not), I am accustomed to computer keyboards and have long since made the transition from expecting to have to provide a carriage return at the end of each line - an action which, it seemed, some software applications had difficulty in deciding whether to let go or not.

The one major advantage I feel today is the ease of erasing mistakes without leaving clear traces to disturb the beauty of clean text on pristine paper. That "gumming up keys by whiting-out words and then impatiently typing over the fresh clot of white-out before it had completely dried." was the one irritant I had with the typewriter. I could not abide the look of correction fluid covered with typescript and so would, inevitably, pull out the paper and start that page again ... yes, incredibly tedious, particularly if the mistake was near the end of the page or if I had made several.

A love-hate relationship with the typewriter might be an appropriate description in my case, then. Regardless, I miss the physical connection I felt with that machine. It was one that I don't obtain from my computer keyboards, as much as I appreciate the benefits of the new devices.

I admire and am constantly fascinated & even awed by the engineering solutions, small & large, that humanity has produced, so perhaps that is the difference for me. I love steam engines with their heavy steel regulators and still marvel at the many giant mobile apparatuses that facilitate mining, transport, agriculture and much more.

I guess that I'm just an old fashioned, hands-on, if there's no effort involved there's no useful outcome, sort of guy. Not saying that's good or right, just what it is.

Sorry. I've raved on for far too long. Your article brought back so many memories & stimulated the recesses of my mind to regurgitate thoughts and feelings I didn't know or had forgotten were there.

That's so good - heh? Isn't it just what the best, often the simplest, of writing does for people?

Thank you.