Here we go…
I get asked pretty often how I got into this, so… Here’s the answer. :)
I started this journey almost five years ago when a 1950’s Remington Quiet-Riter discovered me in a antique store aptly named “Dead People’s Things”. I’d written my whole life without ever really being aware of it until I wrote a short story about the day I helped my Father bury one of his beloved dogs, Jack, that died suddenly and seemingly for no reason. It was… Good. It wasn’t overly wordy(which I struggle with), and touched a part of peoples hearts that understand the unique love we have for our pets. My Father made a touching post about sweet Jack on social media, and uncharacteristically, I posted the story in the comments. The response was large, touching, and helped me realize I have a small gift with words. A man I knew only by name, but has since become a blood brother, reached out to me to tell me how much my story touched him. He went on to explain that he is the custodian to a magical place in Northern Wisconsin that, in it’s former life, was a Capuchin/Franciscan monestary and retreat for spiritual journeys. It has since, under his guidance and efforts, become a refuge for the arts known as, well… The Refuge.
He offered me a 3 month paid writers residency, and of course, I accepted.
That first trip was nothing short of life-changing for me. I wrote, found a part of myself I’d been searching for my entire life, and met some of the best people I can proudly call my tribe.
But.
Something was missing…
I was writing on a laptop, much like I am right now, and while I got some good pages down, it just didn’t make me FEEL.
When I got back home to Tennessee, that’s when my family and I went to Dead People’s Things on a whim during a warm spring day. The Remington was in it’s case sort of hidden in the back. That’s actually what drew me to it, I didn’t know what the case held, but found it really cool. That first time opening a manual Typewriter case was something I’ve grown to love- the first sight of the machine, the unique smell, almost like an old book, even the sound of the latch disengaging. It was intrigue at first sight.
I got it home, cleaned it as best I could, and found an overpriced ribbon for it on Amazon.
Two paragraphs.
That’s all it took, I was hooked.
That first one grew into three, then five. My wife asked me, “What is this about? Don’t you already have a Typewriter?”. Ha. I knew I loved them, that’s really as far as my thoughts on it went.
I soon became a collector, and realized pretty quickly that if I was going to collect them for use, I was going to need to either:
Find someone that can work on them
Learn to work on them myself
After investigating #1, I found that there are VERY few people still repairing/servicing Typewriters, so #2 was the winner. My background as a “fixer” served me well in the process of learning to be a Typewriter Repairman. Years spent in blue collar jobs that focused on using hand tools, and FIXING versus REPLACING made this a natural fit for me. I’ve since invested a large amount of time, money, and effort to see this through.
It was still just a hobby to a degree, but one that I dreamed of making a career. I got really adept at troubleshooting, cleaning, and repairing, and even lucked into some legit Typewriter repair tools along the way. But everyday life, and work left less and less time for me to devote to Typewriters.
Enter Coronavirus.
The pandemic killed the handyman/painting business I had been doing for the past decade or so, and shut down the catering company I worked part-time as a chef, so after a few weeks of living off my savings and pouting, I made a decision.
What you see here, today, is the fruit of that decision. It has not been easy, nor have I been “lucky”. (Drives me CRAZY when folks say “Oh, how LUCKY for you to be able to do something you love for a living.” Ugh. EyeRollEmoji.jpg )
I’ve made this happen through my love of the machines, support of my family and the wonderful humans in the Typosphere, and mostly;
Sheer will, determination, and NOT letting ANYTHING stop me from making this dream, reality.
So there you have it.
I’m grateful, humbled, and inspired to grow Nashville Typewriter as large as I can. I’ve been able to accomplish things I only fantasized about, excited to see what I can make happen moving forward. I’d LOVE an actual storefront, but that might just look like me investing in the old barn I built a room in to work and embracing the southern gothic aesthetic that has worked so well for me thus far.
Time will tell. Thanks for reading, and for supporting and BELIEVING in me.
Loveyameanit,
Kirk
