Printing From A Famicom Clone Computer

Somewhere in a box (or a flea-market table, or the “mystery electronics” shelf of your local retro shop),
there’s a keyboard-shaped device that looks like a toy PC, boots into a bargain-bin “operating system,”
plays Famicom/NES-style games, andbecause the universe has a sense of humorsometimes includes a
Print option.

If you’ve ever clicked that option and thought, “Print… to what? My hopes and dreams?” you’re in the right place.
This guide explains what a “Famicom clone computer” actually is, why some of them can print, what kind of printers
they tend to like (spoiler: not your modern Wi-Fi laser), and how to approach the project in a way that’s
practical, respectful of the hardware, and still delightfully ridiculous.

What Exactly Is a “Famicom Clone Computer”?

“Famicom clone computer” is a catch-all nickname for a family of low-cost, Famicom-compatible systemsoften sold
outside Japanbuilt around “NES-on-a-chip” style hardware (or similar compatible designs). Unlike a standard
console clone that’s just “plug-and-play,” these models usually add a full keyboard and ship with “educational”
cartridges or built-in menus: typing tutors, simple math games, a basic text editor, sometimes BASIC-like
programming tools, and a handful of bundled games.

They’re not pretending to be a workstation. They’re closer to “toy computer meets 8-bit console,” designed to be
cheap, familiar, and TV-friendly. The keyboard is part learning tool, part marketing, and part invitation for
curious tinkerers to go exploring.

Two Printing Worlds: Nintendo’s Official Path vs. The Clone Path

The official Famicom vibe: BASIC, keyboards, and accessories

In Japan, Nintendo supported a surprisingly “computer-ish” side of the Famicom era: keyboards, BASIC programming,
and data storage add-ons. Family BASIC gave users a cartridge plus a keyboard, and programs were commonly saved
via cassette interfaces in that ecosystem. This was the classic early-home-computing reality: slow, charming, and
extremely proud of printing “HELLO” in a loop like it was a NASA launch.

The clone vibe: “Why is there a DB-25 back here?”

Many keyboard-style Famicom clones shipped with rudimentary word processing software. The funniest part is that
some of those word processors include a Print menu even when the device looks like it has no realistic
way to talk to a printer. That’s where the legend begins: certain keyboard Famiclones really do include a printer
interfacesometimes hiding in plain sight as a classic DB-25 connector, the same general style people associate
with old PC parallel ports.

When you find one of these units, it feels like discovering a secret door in a video game. Except the secret door
leads to office supplies.

How Printing Works on Many Keyboard Famiclones (In Human Terms)

Most of the printable keyboard Famiclones that hobbyists have documented behave like a simplified, old-school
parallel interface rather than a modern “driver-based” printing system. Think “send characters and basic control
signals” rather than “render a PDF.”

Traditional PC-style parallel printing typically pushes data 1 byte (8 bits) at a time and uses handshaking lines
so the printer can say “got it” or “busyhold up.” In the classic world, a host sets the data lines, toggles a
strobe/handshake, and the printer latches the byte. Do that thousands of times, and you get text (and sometimes
very blocky graphics).

A keyboard Famiclone doesn’t usually have a sophisticated print spooler. Instead, the software (word processor or
BASIC environment) “bit-bangs” the port with very simple logic: write a byte, nudge the strobe, wait for the
printer to accept it, repeat. Minimalism is the whole aesthetic.

Why that minimalist approach makes sense

• Cost: These devices were built to hit low price points, so extra hardware tends to be minimal.
• Compatibility: Text printing over a basic parallel-style link is widely supported by older printers.
• Simplicity: A “print this text buffer” feature is dramatically easier than a full graphics pipeline.

What You Can Print (and Why It Looks Like 1987)

The realistic sweet spot is textshort documents, menus, BASIC listings, small forms, or
“type-a-letter-on-a-TV” creations. Some systems may also support crude graphics or “semi-graphics” (block
characters arranged to look like simple images), but don’t expect photo prints unless you enjoy disappointment as
a hobby.

Fun, practical things to try printing

• A short letter or “retro resume” (bonus points for all-caps like it’s 1991).
• A BASIC program listing, complete with line numbers for that authentic classroom energy.
• A one-page “gaming club flyer” made with ASCII borders and questionable spacing choices.
• A “high score certificate” you award yourself. No one can stop you.

Why it’s often slow

The CPU is modest, the software is simple, and the port control can be heavily software-driven. Add in the fact
that many compatible printers are dot-matrix or similar, and you’ve got a perfect storm of “it’s printing…
eventually.” The upside: the sound effects are incredible. Dot-matrix printers don’t print; they perform.

Printer Compatibility: The Reality Check (Before You Buy a Carton of Paper)

Here’s the key idea: these clones generally play nicest with printers that behave like classic parallel/legacy
devices. Modern USB-only printers usually expect a full modern host stack (drivers, rasterization, printer
languages, and sometimes cloud services). Your Famiclone is not trying to negotiate with a cloud service. It is
trying to send letters, one byte at a time, like a determined little mail carrier.

Best-case match

• Older dot-matrix printers or legacy printers that accept straightforward text over a parallel-style interface.
• Printers that can operate in a simple text mode (even if they support fancier features).

Common pitfalls

• USB-only printers: often won’t respond because there’s no parallel-style signaling to latch bytes.
• “Smart” printers expecting modern protocols: may not do anything useful with raw bytes.
• Adapters that aren’t truly bidirectional or low-level: some “converter” cables are designed for PCs with drivers, not for a simple hardware port.

Three Modern Approaches (Pick Your Level of Chaos)

1) Use a compatible legacy printer (the “period-correct” route)

If you can access a printer that still accepts classic parallel-style input, this is the simplest path. It also
creates the most authentic result: slightly uneven text, charming mechanical noise, and paper that looks like it
came out of a time capsule.

2) Use a bridging setup (the “translator” route)

Some hobbyists route output through intermediary hardware or computers that can capture the raw-ish parallel data
and translate it into something modern printers understand. This approach can work well, but it depends heavily on
the exact signals your clone outputs and what your bridge can actually interpret.

Think of it as a language problem: the clone speaks “simple handshake and bytes,” while modern printing systems
prefer “formatted page descriptions.” You can absolutely build a translatorjust don’t expect an off-the-shelf
magic dongle to do it flawlessly.

3) Treat the printer port as a general I/O port (the “maker” route)

This is the fun rabbit hole. Because some Famiclone printer ports are largely software-controlled, creative people
have explored the idea of using that port for more than printingbasic device control, experiments with storage,
or other peripherals. Even if your end goal is printing, understanding the port as “8-bit output with a couple of
control lines” can help you troubleshoot like a pro.

Troubleshooting: When the Print Option Does Absolutely Nothing

If you hit Print and your printer responds with the emotional equivalent of a shrug, work through these
common culprits.

1) It’s not actually wired for printing

Some software menus include Print because the same firmware or app suite was reused across multiple modelssome
with printer ports, some without. If your unit has no physical printer connector (or has one that isn’t connected
internally), the menu can be more “aspirational” than functional.

2) Cable confusion

DB-25 and “parallel printer cable” get used loosely in casual conversation, but actual pinouts and handshaking
expectations matter. A cable that physically fits isn’t automatically the right electrical match.

3) Printer mode or settings

Some printers can switch between modes (or can be configured to accept simpler input). If the printer expects a
more complex page description language but you’re sending plain text bytes, the printer may print garbageor
nothing at all.

4) Handshake timing

Old-school parallel-style printing is a dance: data lines, strobe, busy/ack. If the clone’s timing is oddor if
the printer is pickyyou can get stuck. The symptom often looks like: prints one character, then stops… or prints
a few lines, then freezes like it saw a ghost.

Why Printing From a Famicom Clone Computer Is Weirdly Worth It

On paper (pun fully intended), printing from a Famiclone is unnecessary. You could write your text on any device
made after 1995 and print it easily. But that’s not the point.

• It’s a living museum exhibit: you’re experiencing how “computing” felt when memory was tiny and everything was a compromise.
• It’s hands-on education: ports, signaling, and basic I/O become real instead of abstract.
• It’s absurdly fun: the world needs more projects that are both useless and delightful.

Hands-On Experiences: What It’s Like Printing From a Famicom Clone Computer

People who try this for the first time often describe a very specific emotional arc: excitement, confusion,
tinkering, triumph, and then a strange urge to print five more pages just because you can.

The adventure usually starts with the menu. You boot the system, navigate through a surprisingly earnest set of
“applications,” and eventually find the word processor. It’s minimal, often blocky, and sometimes feels like it
was designed by someone who heard a rumor about Microsoft Word in a crowded market. But you type anywaybecause
typing on an 8-bit clone that outputs to a TV has the same charm as writing a novel on a calculator: it’s silly,
but it makes you smile.

Then you see it: Print. You select it and wait for something dramatic. Sometimes you get nothing. Other
times the system pauses as if it’s “searching for printer,” which is a funny concept when you realize there’s no
modern device discovery happening here. The clone is basically saying, “Hello, I am shouting bytes into the void.
If a printer is listening, please clap.”

When the stars aligncompatible printer, correct cable, cooperative timingthe first successful printout feels
shockingly rewarding. It might only be a few lines of text, but watching those characters land on real paper is
like watching a tiny time machine work. Dot-matrix printers amplify the joy because they announce each line with
a mechanical soundtrack. The room fills with the classic buzz-and-chunk rhythm, and suddenly you understand why
old computer labs sounded like a swarm of determined bees.

The print quality also tells a story. Lines may be slightly uneven, spacing can be quirky, and any attempt at
formatting feels like negotiating with the universe. You learn fast that “centering” isn’t a buttonit’s a
lifestyle. Many hobbyists end up embracing the limitations: they add ASCII borders, use all-caps headings, and
turn constraints into design. A one-page “newsletter” becomes a piece of retro art, not a modern document.

Troubleshooting is part of the experience, too. If the printer doesn’t respond, you start thinking like an early
computer user: Is the printer online? Is it out of paper? Is the handshake behaving? Did the clone lock up
because the port is tied into something unexpected? The process is surprisingly educational because it forces you
to stop assuming the system will “just work.” You become the driver. You become the OS. You become the IT support
hotlineexcept the hold music is your own nervous laughter.

And once you get one clean page, the temptation is immediate: print a BASIC listing. Print a fake certificate.
Print a “high score report.” Print a dramatic letter that begins, “DEAR SIR OR MADAM,” for no reason other than
it looks fantastic in pixelated text. The best part is sharing the result. Hand someone a physical printout made
by a Famicom clone computer and watch their brain reboot. It’s a conversation starter, a nostalgia trigger, and a
reminder that technology can be joyful even when it’s wildly impractical.

Conclusion

Printing from a Famicom clone computer sits at the perfect intersection of retro computing, hardware curiosity,
and harmless mischief. If your unit has a real printer interface, you’re holding a weird little bridge between
game-console history and early “home computer” ambitionsone byte at a time.

Keep expectations realistic (text first, fancy later), treat cables and compatibility with respect, and don’t be
surprised if your biggest takeaway is simply this: it’s fun when technology is allowed to be a little strange.
Now go print something delightfully unnecessarypreferably with an ASCII border.