You know, there’s days I wish I wrote on a manual typewriter. Then when I’m frustrated with something I could, with a great flourish, rip the page out of the typewriter, crumple it into a ball and toss it in the fireplace. Then my wife could dig it out of the fireplace and claim it’s the best thing I’ve ever written, forcing me to mail it to publishers who’d very quickly write me a check with lots of commas in it. It would be read by millions and then I’d be on Oprah with a great story to tell about The Masterpiece That Very Nearly Met a Fiery Doom. But computers? It’s hard to hit the delete key with a flourish. And of course, there’s also nothing for my wife to rescue from a Fiery Doom. What is she supposed to do, use Norton Utilities? What kind of story would that make? “You see, Oprah, I deleted the file with a great flourish, and then my wife, fearing I might do such a rash thing, used her computer skills to rescue it from my Recycle Bin before I emptied it . . .”
So really, you can see how a computer might be holding me back from being a bestseller. Technology does have its price, you know.