When I first started writing First Admiral in 2006, the world was a wholly different place for the last of the e-dinosaurs like me. Oh, I had only just managed to master the complexities of fixing a laptop into the phone socket and waiting patiently for the correct tone to indicate that I was “…connected...” to the t’interwebs thingy. I also knew that I had to wait – with equal patience – for the slow-creeping little blue bar at the bottom of the screen to tell me that the file was either downloaded or had been sent away into that mythical realm known as "The Server." That was about it.
Yes, those were days of blithe innocence for us e-dinosaurs. Anyone mentioning the word “e-reader” would have drawn mystified stares and suspicions of something highly illegal; possibly related to the drugs scene, with nervous, head-scarved mothers shepherding their frightened children away from that strange person from Outer Space. The word “kindle” would have conjured up images of open fires and snowy Christmas scenes with otherwise sane and respectable people grinning inanely whilst wearing questionable and bright knitwear as they sang something cheerful and syrupy to accompany Perry Como, Andy Williams or Bing Crosby.
Yes, I’m showing my age here!
As for “Social Networks”, well, they were something that happened in your local bar at the weekends... usually under the affluence of incohol (hiccup!)
But, as with all endangered species, the e-dinosaur had to learn; to evolve or perish. The law of the concrete jungle was harsh and unforgiving. Working in a job that required a lot of travelling put this particular e-dinosaur in hotel rooms for three to four nights per week in the far-flung corners of the corporate empire. With rubbish TV, and a hideously expensive mini-bar, the bored (and exhausted) e-dinosaur drew out his trusty new shiny laptop and began to write. He had been good at what was called “Creative Writing” at school, even managing to get some naïve and idealistic adolescent poetry published in the school magazine. But the reality of life, and having to work to provide for a family got in the way of those early literary ambitions.
Now, he had time on his claws and the directive from Head Office to adapt or die! So, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth (plus a good part physical violence and verbal abuse), the e-dinosaur resurrected his old literary lessons as he hammered and pounded the pliant and un-protesting keyboard. Before long, his wild ramblings and lunatic ravings were beginning to take the shape of a coherent story. Yet, he was never quite happy with it, and most frightening of all he was hooked on writing. The old writing bug had bitten the e-dinosaur quite badly.
And, before anyone knew it, the e-dinosaur had become a shambling, wraith-like, shadowy figure stalking the corridors of Head Office, begging, pleading and cajoling the Admin and I.T. staff with questions of "how do you make the machine do this?"
As his level of skill grew, so did his appetite. Prowling the work stations, the e-dinosaur struck fear and terror into the hearts of his colleagues as he sought new information, new experiences, new techniques and further training until one day the e-dinosaur made a momentous and astounding conclusion: Maybe, I should try to write a novel!
The moral of the tale is clear - beware of those e-dinosaurs. They might just be of the large, hungry and carnivorous variety!
To be continued...
By William J. Benning (author of the First Admiral series, published by MQuills in 2012)
Yes, those were days of blithe innocence for us e-dinosaurs. Anyone mentioning the word “e-reader” would have drawn mystified stares and suspicions of something highly illegal; possibly related to the drugs scene, with nervous, head-scarved mothers shepherding their frightened children away from that strange person from Outer Space. The word “kindle” would have conjured up images of open fires and snowy Christmas scenes with otherwise sane and respectable people grinning inanely whilst wearing questionable and bright knitwear as they sang something cheerful and syrupy to accompany Perry Como, Andy Williams or Bing Crosby.
Yes, I’m showing my age here!
As for “Social Networks”, well, they were something that happened in your local bar at the weekends... usually under the affluence of incohol (hiccup!)
But, as with all endangered species, the e-dinosaur had to learn; to evolve or perish. The law of the concrete jungle was harsh and unforgiving. Working in a job that required a lot of travelling put this particular e-dinosaur in hotel rooms for three to four nights per week in the far-flung corners of the corporate empire. With rubbish TV, and a hideously expensive mini-bar, the bored (and exhausted) e-dinosaur drew out his trusty new shiny laptop and began to write. He had been good at what was called “Creative Writing” at school, even managing to get some naïve and idealistic adolescent poetry published in the school magazine. But the reality of life, and having to work to provide for a family got in the way of those early literary ambitions.
Now, he had time on his claws and the directive from Head Office to adapt or die! So, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth (plus a good part physical violence and verbal abuse), the e-dinosaur resurrected his old literary lessons as he hammered and pounded the pliant and un-protesting keyboard. Before long, his wild ramblings and lunatic ravings were beginning to take the shape of a coherent story. Yet, he was never quite happy with it, and most frightening of all he was hooked on writing. The old writing bug had bitten the e-dinosaur quite badly.
And, before anyone knew it, the e-dinosaur had become a shambling, wraith-like, shadowy figure stalking the corridors of Head Office, begging, pleading and cajoling the Admin and I.T. staff with questions of "how do you make the machine do this?"
As his level of skill grew, so did his appetite. Prowling the work stations, the e-dinosaur struck fear and terror into the hearts of his colleagues as he sought new information, new experiences, new techniques and further training until one day the e-dinosaur made a momentous and astounding conclusion: Maybe, I should try to write a novel!
The moral of the tale is clear - beware of those e-dinosaurs. They might just be of the large, hungry and carnivorous variety!
To be continued...
By William J. Benning (author of the First Admiral series, published by MQuills in 2012)
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