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The Smack in the Face of a New Idea
By Nancy Lindquist | March 19, 2007
I can’t control when inspiration strikes. Honestly, I don’t want to. I’ve had odd book ideas in strange places. Most of the stuff I write has a comedic edge to it. I’m happy to tackle tough issues, but most of the time there is at least a smidge of funny in it. Even the sex.
I’ve got a free short out there that’s very serious. If someone buys my work expecting that to be my style they’re in for a surprise. If someone reads my blogs they’ll get it. At least I hope they do.
Yesterday, on the way home from my dad’s, I passed a small airport. Large billboards dotted the highway, advertising the chance to jump out of a perfectly good airplane with a puff of silk to your back. This scrap of fabric may, or may not open, landing you neatly on the ground. My first thought was, “no thanks.” A moment later my next project was born. WHAMMO! I woke up my nine year old and made him listen to the outline. Not to torture him, to cement it in my mind.
Yes, a digital recorder would be a handy thing to own at this point. Since I tend to write in a stream of conscious, I could probably get a lot more done if I transcribed my work. The problem is, which one do I buy, where do I get it and is it going to be too difficult for me to use? If it’s a challenge, it will sit in a drawer and not get used.
I know, as problems go, this isn’t exactly the solution for world hunger. It does matter to me. I have to think long and hard before I embrace a technology. Even one as seemingly simple as a glorified tape recorder. I didn’t get the internet. My ex husband spent a lot of time on a local BBS, a long time ago. I thought he was nuts. Then I tried it. It was a handy little place. When our marriage went irreparably downhill and ended, I met my husband there. We’ve been married thirteen years next month.
I didn’t get e-books. Why would anyone not read a book on paper. Obviously, they’ve changed my life.
Still, I don’t learn my lesson. I want to hang onto to the old and familiar. I blame it on my age. My husband, four years younger, was raised with computers. He thinks like a machine most of the time. It all seems logical and forthright to him. I draw the line at a big-brother-esque chip placed inside my body to track me. It’s bad enough wear one on my shoe when I race. You can also count on the fact that nothing will be implanted in my brain, ever. Other than that, I’m willing to consider small things. The coffee maker is a damn decent invention.
