Saturday, August 13, 2016
Today I am grateful I learned to properly type. Wow! Wouldn’t my old typewriting teacher love to hear that one? A-S-D-F — J-K-L-Semi Colon and so on and so forth. I don’t have to two-finger it like Himself. I fly on the keyboard!
There was no blog yesterday because life is about choices and I made one that left me with no time to write my own stuff. For one day. I’ll live. So will you. A dear friend submitted a one-act play to a festival and it was selected. Now he is writing as second act, except the first piece is no longer in any of his saved data and it all needs to be together for him to properly edit and make changes. You know the drill, it was originally written maybe six computers and a word processor ago. Like last year, what with the speed of technology.
He will soon be gone for a long time and wants to work on it while away, but due to an untimely stroke many years ago, his finger/hand muscles that once flew over the keyboard don’t play so fast anymore, so I offered to type it into my computer and email it to him. “No, you don’t have to do that. You have your own writing,” he said, over and over, but we both knew I would do it anyway. It’s how we roll.
Yeah, probably a scanner would have been the smart way to go. I thought of that when I was done. And probably Staples could have done that, just like they made us a copy. But then I wouldn’t have been able to digest the piece and see it unfolding on stage. And I wanted to do that, too, because I was away when it was performed a month ago. Some writers HAVE to write in long-hand, in a spiral notebook first, then type it into the computer later. It’s all about process.
But oh how I forgot what a pain in the neck it is to type a play. Italics for stage directions, centering names, dialogue, dashes ——— that somehow became zeroes 0000000000000 when I hit the wrong key. . .geeze, it was a nightmare of quirks.
I am so very grateful that I can properly type. . .and I’m fast to boot! It’s done. It’s saved. It’s emailed to him. Mission accomplished. For both of us. Maybe I’ve been inspired to write another play. Maybe that’s why I had to type it in. Maybe.