We’ve had a computer in the family since 1982, namely the BBC Microsystem. There were several models released, and I’m the current custodian of ours: a model B with 32 kilobytes of RAM. It isn’t fitted with a monitor, so it needs to be attached to a TV. Readers might be more familiar with its spiritual successor, the Raspberry Pi.
The Micro hadn’t been switched on for years and some of the internal components had failed in that time, some of them rather spectacularly. Fortunately, there’s a local business called Rude Dog Retros that specialises in fixing devices from this era, and it’s now back in operation.
I’ve enjoyed revisiting the BASIC programming environment and tinkering with the functions, assisted by a PDF version of the original manual and websites run by enthusiasts. At its heart, the machine is a blank canvas with no built‑in software. Instead, it boots up straight to a command-line interface. From there, you’re expected either to start writing your own programs or to load one from the separate cassette deck.
During this time, I’ve pondered the question of whether it could usefully act as a distraction-free word processor. My immediate conclusion is a flat no, unless you’re particularly determined.
Once the novelty of the clicky keys wears off, learning its quirks quickly becomes a necessity. If you make a spelling error in the middle of a line, there’s no mouse to place the cursor at the correct spot. You either need to delete all the text after the error, or overwrite the line later in the program.
The keyboard offers a basic Copy function, which can be invaluable, but it only copies character-by-character from another part of the screen. There isn’t a clipboard for repetitive pasting. But the big advantage of the Micro is how many inputs and outputs it supports, including the surprising ability to interface with a printer.
There was a word processor available, called Wordwise, that could apply – for example – bold and italic, but couldn’t show the corresponding effect on-screen. The user would instead see codes, much like how HTML source code is structured today, until the document was printed.
Within five years, however, this approach was becoming obsolute. Both Microsoft and Apple released competing mouse-driven programs using WYSIWYG principles.
So if you really wish to persist with using the Micro as a distraction-free word processor, it’s possible. Just be prepared to install your own software and recognise the tight limitations around editing and formatting.
At least one company has built its brand around distraction-free writing. The Freewrite looks somewhat like a typewriter, but contains a small e-ink screen. Like the Micro, it’s great for straighforward typing without navigational aids, yet it’s designed to seamlessly back up your text to a cloud service of your choice. The traffic is strictly outbound-only, as there isn’t a browser installed.
I enjoyed using the first version of the Freewrite, which was a chunky beast, and there have been more portable models introduced since. The main barrier is cost; it may be much cheaper to buy a second-hand laptop and install open-source distraction-beating software. A Freewrite user buys as much for the steampunk-style look as the functionaliy.
Back on my kitchen counter, the temporary home of that BBC Microsystem, I’ll keep chewing over the question of whether it might have a practical use in my writing. One aspect is for certain: I’ll be sure to switch it on every few months to assess whether the components are holding up.
Gavin Cameron 