I have an old Smith Corona typewriter that was my father's. We're talking 1940's old. The "H" doesn't work and some of the letters drop, but it it still makes that noise...
Some of my earliest memories involve that old typewriter. In a modest, 4-bedroom house with 11 kids, my dad never had the luxury of an office or den. He would instead work off one side of my parents' king-sized bed, sitting in an old rocking chair, using a handmade (he was a woodworker by trade) hardwood chessboard as a desktop for handwriting signatures. This was the only reason he would write by hand, because next to the chessboard would always be his old Smith-Corona Silent-Super typewriter. He typed everything; letters, checks, list, memos, you name it. While he clacked away, as long as I stayed quiet and didn't shake the bed while he signed something, I was allowed to play with my matchbox cars on the opposite side of the bed. I've always loved that sound. It makes me think of him, and of carefree days.
Click-clack, click-clack-click, I really miss my dad.
So, every now and then, when I'm feeling lost and the words won't come, I pull out the typewriter just to make the noise for a little while.
Click-clack, click-clack-click, all is right with the world.
What a lovely memory! My mom was a writer (she wrote short stories which she published in Reader's Digest, and scripts for a local TV show), and I fondly remember the click-clack of her typewriter too!