I don’t know how it happened because I was doing about a hundred things at once: baking banana bread, sending off a story in e-mail, twittering away on Twitter, reading a text message from my son—plus I was counting pages on my next book—a second installment of Boomer Tales. Anyway, I somehow pasted a recently finished story in place of one of my longest stories! I had been writing, polishing, and editing that story for two and a half months!
I had much more adept computer types try to locate the lost tale. But no! Poof—it’s gone. Now I have one of those handy devices, a thumb drive, (or whatever you want to call it), and I said, just the other day, I said, “Self, you better get your lazy butt upstairs, fetch that thumb drive and download these stories. Before something bad happens.” My Mac is a little long in the tooth. I worry. But I didn’t! I didn’t back up my work. What a moron. What an idiot. This was so avoidable.
That’s the thing with computers, one strike of a key and up, up and away. Hit send on that nasty e-mail and it’s off. No second chances here. The recipient could be reading your vile words before you even realize that what you wrote was in anger and you didn’t mean to send it. Really you didn’t. But you can’t take that regretful e-mail back. It’s a done deal. Whoops.
I did find the original version of the story on my thumb drive. My words many incarnations ago. The infant idea, an outline really. So I’m not empty handed. Still, it will never come out the same. Sort of like spaghetti sauce. Every single time I whip up a batch it’s a little different. A friend said that the universe might be trying to tell me something. Maybe the new version will be better. Why can’t the universe shut up and mind it’s own business?
All Rights Reserved. © 2009 by Elizabeth Bradley.