My Little Writer

I haven’t any time to typecast today. However, my ten-year-old daughter, who I’ve mentioned before, loves to read and write. Recently, she sat in my studio and wrote some poems on her typewriter (she leaves her typewriter in my studio so she can hang out with her pop and be creative). So here’s a page of little poems she hammered out rather quickly and presented to me (sans any editing; well, she didn’t know I was going to post this).

This is what my daughter does about 75% of the day.

I shot this picture of her while taking a family stroll out at a lake.

Guns Don’t Kill. Typewriters Kill.

James Caan, about to sap his captor.

I’d make some type of joke about a splitting headache, but it wouldn’t be very funny, so I’ll refrain.

The damsel in distress finds a case in a dump and opens it to reveal a typewriter.

The grateful damsel presents Law with the typewriter as a gift.

Typing the story of his experience as a repo man.

The film begins with Jude Law at the typewriter, so we can assume the narration throughout the film corresponds to what he’s typing.

When Law and his new girlfriend see another repo man coming to get them, they run. What’s interesting is that the first thing the girl grabs before they leave is not a purse, or a weapon, or her favorite Duran Duran album; instead, she saves the typewriter, taking it with her. This proves to be a prescient decision, because it’s the only item within reach for Law to drop on the repo man’s head as he is about to shoot her with a taser.

Because I can… Since I began this post with a picture of James Caan about to clobber Cathy Bates with a Royal 10, I figure I should include some film-stills from the film, “Misery”,  featuring the typewriter.

My first encounter with a Royal 10. Now I own one, though I have no plans to drop it on anyone’s head.

Ouch! You never want to get sapped with a typewriter.

Remember that scene in the film where Bates calls the Hollywood cliffhanger a ‘cheater’, because there’s no way the hero could have escaped his predicament? Well, this film does some cheating as well, because there’s no way Bates could have gotten up after the clobberin’ she received from that typewriter. No way. CHEATERS!

This post was typed on my Corona Four.

A Thousand Words

I haven’t time to typecast today, so I thought I’d just share some photography of mine. Here’s a particular shot which turned out to my liking. I don’t know why I like it, but I do. I think I just like the look of the lonely, little, tree-topped hill surrounded by those mountains.

More Noir

In the film, the Blue Dahlia is a nightclub. It’s neon sign serves as the film’s opening title.

That’s the VHS box cover on the left, which you can buy online (assuming you still have a VHS player with which to view it). On the right is a foreign format dvd, so it won’t work with American dvd players.

I really liked this film, despite the fact that the mystery of the killer’s identity is revealed rather unbelievably. I won’t give anything more away. Watch it if you get an opportunity.

Typed on a 1936 Underwood Noiseless 77 (which miraculously didn’t skip once while typing this post).


The first (1935) adaptation of Hammett’s story, featuring George Raft

The second (1942) version of the film, which is my personal favorite of the two.

Here we have Ladd discovering the source of the mysterious notes. Does anyone know what kind of typewriter this is? From the chrome tops of the feet, I almost want to say it’s an Olympia, but I’m just guessing.

You can see Ladd’s reflection in the mirror as he spies on Lake.

Caught in the act of typing another anonymous note.

The Everyman’s Library series by Random House has two volumes collecting Hammett’s
work. You can get the volume featuring “The Glass Key” HERE

The original Black Mask magazine in which Hammett’s story first appeared.

Some book editions of the story.