The other day, I was telling my kids about my childhood. I mentioned I didn't have a computer.
My son looked at me in amazement. My daughter gave me a pitying look.
"Were you, like, really poor?" she asked gently.
After I stopped laughing I told them, no, I wasn't really poor. We just didn't have that technology - we didn't have Facebook or Twitter or Instagram or Vine or well... heck, we didn't even have a remote control for our television set.
My son, who has a Vulcan mindmeld with Minecraft, was amazed. "What did you ...do?" he finally sputtered.
We had an interesting conversation then - wherein I reminded
the kids about nature and books and sports, and all that exists outside of circuitry.
But the talk started me thinking about technology, and the effect our ever-changing world has on writers. We can think in 140 characters. We can text in shorthand. We know how to add links and photos and videos and easily hyperlink to our sites ... but can we still create a beautiful narrative? Can we write poetically, with emotion?
Can we offer the type of prose that gives readers goosebumps, the kind that brings a lump to their throat, that stays in their memory for days?
It's harder for me, I know that. It takes more concentration, more effort to switch gears, to feel I've succeeded.
I have a few days off. I think I'll spend them buried in a few good books, just to remind me how it's done.