I sense that novel of my dreams is in the Remington SL3 — although it writes much faster than I can spell. Still Life with Woodpecker (1980)
To pragmatists, the letter Z is nothing more than a phonetically symbolic glyph, a minor sign easily learned, readily assimilated, and occasionally deployed in the course of a literate life. To cynics, Z is just an S with a stick up its butt. Wild Ducks Flying Backward (2005)