Malcolm Gladwell's piece ("In the Air." The New Yorker May 12, 2008) on innovation uses Bell's and Gray's battle over the telephone patent as an illustration for the concept of multiple innovation or simultaneous discovery. I find it an interesting text, although it remains somewhat limited in its discussion of the process of innovation which it simply seems to reduce to the final product, e.g. the telephone. A more innovative approach in my view is, for instance, Michael E. Gorman's analysis of Bell's and Gray's mental models leading to their respective designs of the telephone (Michael E. Gorman, "Mind in the World: Cognition and Practice in the Invention of the Telephone." Social Studies of Science 27, no. 4 (1997): 583-624.), see post of Feb 13 below.

The transcription of the documents I collected at the Smithsonian Institution's Archives Center has led me to a few first insights regarding Elisha Gray's invention of the telautograph.
A first interesting insight gained from the material collected at the Smithsonian pertains to the business side of an invention. It appears that Elisha Gray filed a first patent application the moment he decided to pursue the development further in 1887. Only in 1888 did his technician L .O. McPherson begin regular experiments and Gray applied for another patent with a revised design. Also in 1888, documents show that he founded "Gray's National Telautograph Company" whose objects were to "promote, establish and maintain the general business of a telegraphic, telephone, and telautographic company […] particularly by means of what is known as the 'Telautograph System,' invented by Prof. Elisha Gray." This was months before they even had a workable machine and years before a marketable product.
The documents beautifully illustrate the arduous process of an inventor and his technician from their initial idea through the grinding series of failed experiments to their first working apparatus. Particularly the early samples show how far Gray and McPherson were from being able to reproduce handwriting. Their attempts in 1888 produced hardly legible angular scribbles at a 45 degree angle from the lines on the paper. The design around this time, then, seems to focus on the paper feeder mechanism. Slowly, by adjusting the paper feeder and pen lifter, the writing becomes first, legible, and by 1890, clearly recognizable in either Gray's or McPherson's hand. I was able to find the drawings and samples to visually illustrate this process of approximation at the Smithsonian.
The very early samples also seem to suggest an interesting reversal between the men's handwriting and the telautograph's reproductions. McPherson's lab diary is written in his quite beautiful handwriting. However, his handwriting appears childish and crude when he struggled to get the apparatus to write legibly. On the other hand, with the advanced telautograph, the written exchanges between Gray in his office and McPherson in the workshop became light-hearted and even humorous. These observations will inform my analysis of the subtle interactions between writer and writing device. For instance, does Gray's handwriting in his letters differ from his handwriting with the telautograph? In other words, does a user adjust his or her handwriting when working with such a technology? This could, ultimately, have legal consequences if we consider (digital) signing technologies and their judicial applications.