The typewriter beckons me from its banishment in the corner of the coat closet, but I will not be tempted. Its future is to collect dust bunnies, poor thing but I will not be swayed, for I am at last up to date with the modern world and have deemed my new computer a partner in creating a great literary work. Even though I am a newcomer to technology I am confident this machine will help to ensure my success. I have everything at my fingertips, prepared to create a masterpiece.
Fingers poised over the keyboard I am ready to unleash my muse and fill the blank screen with words of genius. The time is now and the conditions are perfect. I am a genuine writer at last, ready to make my mark in literary history. I envision my picture in the newspaper as an “upcoming new writer”. I see myself at book signings as I tour all over the world. My name will be listed among famous authors such as John Steinbeck, Mark Twain, and Pearl S Buck. This creation is going to be the story that launches my career. There will be no rejection slips. I will be renowned as a great author and after I am interviewed on Oprah agents will beg for my attention.
The words flow quickly and I can hardly type fast enough to keep pace with my mind. My beginning paragraph is awesome as I hook my readers in with the first sentence. My voice is clear and strong yet gently entreating. My point of view is consistent as each mesmerizing sentence builds towards the scintillating climax. I pay no attention to the ringing phone. The knock on the door does not distract me and lunchtime passes unnoticed except for the grumble of my stomach. This is what writing is all about, complete devotion to one’s talent. The time flies and before I know it all I have left is the final proofread. I follow submission guidelines to a “T”. Every space, every line is precise on the page. Every word is spelled correctly, every “i” dotted and every “t” crossed. My sentences are fluid, my choice of words perfect with just the right mix of adjectives and adverbs and I have not allowed disagreeing verbs, dangling participles, naughty gerunds or sloppy slang. The syntax is perfect.
The final draft is complete. Perhaps I should do just one last spell-check before printing. I touch my finger to key, and then…... The screen is blank and the realization hits. I have deleted everything! In the haste of my elation, I pressed the wrong key. Too late I remember someone telling me that should save my work periodically as I go along. Hindsight, however clear, does not make this less painful. My masterpiece is gone, like spilled milk that cannot be put back into the glass. Ah well, such is the life of a writer and I must do what I must do. I start again. Perhaps I should dust off the typewriter.