When I was in elementary school, my mom broke down and bought me a spiffy new Smith Corona electronic typewriter. That thing was fancy as hell, let me tell you. It had this neat digital display and you could see your sentences before they were typed out to make sure you didn’t screw anything up. And if you did screw up, you just hit a button and fixed it as opposed to dealing with those corrector strip thingies that were a pain in the ass. I remember being soooo excited when I got it because I thought I was going to give up the pen for good and write like real writers. Yeah, that didn’t quite work out the way I’d hoped. I discovered very quickly that having a typewriter didn’t instantly grant me the ability to type and I got so frustrated with hunting and pecking that I immediately went back to longhand and only whipped out the typewriter when I had finished a story (or poem or song or whatever).
When I got to high school, I decided to take a typing course (do they still offer those?). And again, I thought I was ready to leave the pen behind forever. And again, I was wrong because I soon found out that I had the dexterity of a slug and damn near failed the class because I just couldn’t get my fingers to cooperate.
Thanks for ruining my GPA, you jerk.
Strangely enough, it wasn’t until well after high school that something in my brain finally clicked and typing became super easy for me. Now I average almost 80 wpm, last time I tested myself. I guess it just took a few extra years for all of those classes to sink in. 😀