When I type at my laptop I often have the feeling that a mischievous imp interferes between my thoughts and my writing. He misplaces punctuation marks, misspells words, lengthens sentences, creates an unpleasant sense of urgency, lessens my concentration, tempts me to write faster, in short, distracts me with his mischief. Strangely enough, this imp doesn’t play his tricks on me when I handwrite.
I have always stared at the part of my laptop under the keyboard as at a curious thing, wondering what marvels are in there and how they work, and I suspect that’s where the mischievous imp hides. Like an evil genie he is, and the laptop case is his lamp, and the power button conjures him…
I love technology but I also hate it. It’s distracting. It’s impersonal. It’s too fast. It’s like the middleman that you dislike – the broker, the librarian, the priest. But you always have to put up with this intermediary because without him you are overwhelmed. It’s hard to give up technology once you got used to it.
“Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.” ― Pablo Picasso
I dream of the day when I can lock my laptop and my modem in a shadowy chest and forget about them. But for me to do that I need to procure a typewriter.
I don’t have the courage to buy a typewriter yet. I’m not yet good enough a writer for such a feat. But later this year, after I finish writing Oliver Colors’ biography maybe I will become good enough. Until then I must tolerate this mischievous imp… (digital) technology.
Do you think you would you be a better writer if you didn’t have a laptop?(I sometimes fear to answer my questions.)