I write everything on computer – ideas, letters, books, stories and articles. I love my computer. I think my wife is a bit jealous.
When I started to write, it was still the age of the typewriter. It was okay for rough drafts, but it was pure agony to produce a clean manuscript to send to a magazine or a publisher. Make a one-letter mistake and I had to start over, if I wanted a clean product. Since my hands were rough and often dirty from working in the greenhouse, I had to be extra careful with handling the paper.
Then came my first computer in 1984. It was an IBM model which cost me some four thousand dollars. I had a writing program on a floppy disk. I put it in one drive on the computer and a chuckata, chuckata sound started and continued for a minute or two. Then a floppy for my writing went into the other drive and more chuckata, chuckata.
Finally I was ready to type and see what I was writing on the screen. Wonderful. I could correct my mistakes as I went, or I could go over it later. I was amazed how I could move things around or delete them. I was no longer a typist – I was a writer.
When it was time to print, the dot matrix printer would produce what I had typed, with a noise that doubled the chuckata, chuckata.
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