Hello Meltingpot Readers,
For those of you who have been following my blog since way back when or have read my memoir, Kinky Gazpacho, or any other personal essay I’ve penned, then you know I’ve always loved to read and write. Every since I was a little girl, I’ve been writing stories, plays, manifestos, and menus for my imaginary restaurant. Just last night I was telling my kids that I had more than one pen name when I was younger, because I wrote in so many different genres. Seriously.
But when you get down to it, how does a little girl of eight fall in love with the written word so deeply? I mean, I loved my dog and wanted to be a veterinarian when he died prematurely, but that dream only lasted until the fourth grade. Soon after that, Sherlock Holmes and Harriet the Spy became my heroes and I begged
Santa Claus my parents for a detective kit for Christmas. But the writing? The writing was forever. The writing was a permanent love. The writing was always there, inserting itself into whatever new fantasy or frivolity I adopted.
The day my mother bought me an antique Remington typewriter at a yard sale, she changed my life forever. There was some kind of magic that happened when words kissed paper, in lean, crisp, black letters. Ideas that previously only danced in my head, became real and permanent when they landed on a blank page. I was eight years old and I knew I was a writer. I knew because everything that was important to me, every version of myself I could imagine, included me and my Remington, getting it all down on paper.
Dear readers, I just found my faithful Remington. My mother kept him for me all these years, through all of her moves. I just reclaimed him while we were in North Carolina. And it was like reuniting with an old lover. I caressed his keys and tested their strength. Remington didn’t disappoint me. He never has. After all this time in basements and attics, he still works like a charm.
I think I feel a story coming on.
Do any of you have a Remington in your life? Doesn’t have to be a typewriter, but something that symbolizes the path you’ve taken in your life? I’m totally listening.