Hit Those Keys was named after my first Mac computer, which was named after a series of faithful typewriters.

Somewhat confusingly, for the purposes of this story, they—the typewriters—were all named Aurora D, after the prolific French novelist Aurore Dupin, who wrote under the pen name of George Sand. She wrote 70 novels, 24 plays and over 40,000 letters. “My profession,” she wrote, “is to be free.” Living by her pen was among the freedoms she attained, an achievement to be applauded for any artist, in any age.

Thinking back on it now, it occurs to me that it’s unlikely that young- writer-me would have heard of George Sand, except that the BBC put out a multi-episoded and lavishly-costumed production about her life, Notorious Woman, in 1974. Which I’ll wager is what inspired a rather wonderful song from Ambrosia called Danse with Me, George (Chopin’s Plea), as well as the following poem from me:

To Aurora D.

Aurora D., you’re
a typewriter, keys
smeary from nervous
fingertips.
You squat on my desk
uncovered, insistent,
dominating my day
with your confidence,
your stubbornness.

Aurora Dupin, you’re named
for George Sand, who wrote
thirty pages a night despite
Chopin’s cough, despite being
notorious. Her black trousers
and ruffled shirts remind me
of binders and stacks
of paper, waiting.

Aurora D., your motor
hums even when my thoughts
are black and bristling
as the toothbrush I use
to clean your keys.
You are always ready,
you never question
if words are a necessity.

— ©1983, Lisa (Groom) Firke, in Webster Review. All other rights reserved.

But, I’ve digressed.

For me, the name “Aurora D” embodied a kind of spur to more ambitious creative output. However, my husband always thought the typewriter’s name was “Hit Those Keys,” because I had a sticky label on it like this:

As a spur to creative output, that works too. Hit Those Keys became the name of a succession of faithful Macs, and then of this site, and now is synonymous with my web studio. So you know.