Thief of Time: Ye Olde Internet
Posted by Lisa Lickel on June 3, 2010
Has that question that used to drive me nuts now become passé? You know—the one in social gatherings where you’re the appendage and, when being introduced, asked, “Do you work?” My pat answer eventually became, “Yes, very hard every day. Do you?” That was when I was the Daughter of the King who was also Wife, Mom, Diaper-changer, bottle-washer, chauffeur, cleaning lady, cook, laundry maid, dish-washer, chief purchasing agent, pack-meister for trips, tomato-picker, and errand girl. Two French hens have to be in there somewhere. Probably other stuff I put behind me.
The kids grew up, I took a series of part-time jobs outside our home. Now I work at home. The “And what do you do?” question got a little more interesting. “I’m a writer,” I say. The more informed ask me if I write every day. Well…yes and no, depending on how you look at it. Writing is a business, with a lot of angles to it. Sales & Marketing is the major portion, now that I’ve published. It’s something that, even if I hired out, I’d still have to spend an inordinate amount of time leaving my name all over the place, sort of like marking my territory—which is vast. A whole planet-wide living organism of data input and output accessed through, in my case, and dependent upon, telephone lines. Of which I have precious few in my limbo of neighborhood. I live on the square mile of state highway that’s been purposefully, vengefully, left out of the twenty-first century.
I have dial-up Internet connectivity. My other choices are broad-band and cable. Don’t want no cable TV; no time, little interest, and bundles aren’t as accommodating as they could be. “I just want Internet, I say,” to the young people on the other side of the satellite company, who would curl up and die without texting. “Wha–?” they reply. I’m such a dinosaur.
I think I put my point rather succinctly with an analogy to, um, sort of a kinked hose, except in body function, to most of my friends who want to send me jokes. This is my business. You make me believe I’m getting the contract of my life when I see that 2 MB file coming through. I’ll wait twenty minutes for something like that to download, but not your silly pictures of Sam the Plumber’s crack. Of course, when I try to post my latest book trailer on the new book club site I’ve joined I wait upwards of half an hour and pray the whole time that my connection stays open and up to snuff while the thing’s going up. I resent time lost during the process. It also turns what’s supposed to be a part-time job into a full-time one.
So, what do I do while I’m waiting for my e-mail to come in, while I’m waiting to access this or that site, while I’m waiting to download all the blogs with interesting posts I need to read and respond to? I read the newspaper, I have the Kindle ap open and read a few pages. On good days I have my son’s laptop open and do some editing. I can’t write, though; I’d forget what I was doing elsewhere.
What do you do while you’re waiting? Waiting anywhere, that is? In line, in an office, in the drive-through? Let’s share our best tricks for capturing those moments that otherwise would be a waste. Remember to subscribe and leave a comment with a way to reach you on any post this month in order to qualify for the drawing of either Dan Walsh’s book The Homecoming, or Cynthia Ruchti’s book, They Almost Always Come Home. We’ll pick names on July 1.
Coming up next:
Guests Mary Pace Cox and time management
Casey Herringshaw: Operation Encourage an Author – the right way to promote
Jeannie Campbell and character therapy
Why I colored my hair…was it really the right thing to do?
And don’t forget PROMOTION MONDAY: Cynthia Ruchti on June 7
2 Responses to “Thief of Time: Ye Olde Internet”
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.