A BLOG ABOUT MY WRITING and THE THOUGHTS THAT DISTRACT ME

Pull Myself Together

So here I am wallowing in self-pity when I really shouldn’t be.  There are worse things.  I know that.  One of the worse things that can happen to a writer is to lose files.  Well, to have unretrievable files, the file title is right there in my face.

I was just feeling more creative than I ever have before.  My story was coming alive.  I was moving from chapter to chapter, delighted with what I have written and edited.  A second draft is what I have been working on.  I was so amazed, I pondered what the muse could have been?

Then there is one file which is one chapter that I keep getting error messages on each time I open it. It’s unretrievable.  I have spent countless hours over the last two days trying to find it.  Going into Windows Explorer and clicking on things I have no idea of.

I have been using Scrivener and I blame it for creating a corrupted file.  Had I been using the plain old Microsoft Word, I wouldn’t have run into this problem.  I like Scrivener and will continue to use it because I like the features, but I will never again trust it to save or back up my work.  I can’t even retrieve what they call back up files.  Where are they?  I don’t know.  I took the curse word out of there.  I’m madder than I’m writing.

To make matters worse, I have become obsessed with saving files now.  Which has made things worse.  Now I have the same files all over the place on two computer hard drives and on two flash drives, and I’ve since typed different things on different ones and don’t remember what I typed on which.  I’ve gotten myself in a mess.  What won’t change is from now on I’m manually saving everything MYSELF on MS Word, and not trusting some back up or ANY OTHER PROGRAM for my work.

AND, when this happened, I said to myself, maybe I should look into using the CLOUD for saving my work, after all.  I had been shunning it because I didn’t trust strangers having access to my personal stuff.  I don’t care what they say about some secure server.

So I spend hours on line reading bout the Cloud, and reading and reading (I still don’t understand the stuff), and going on Amazon thinking I can buy my own personal Cloud.   My misunderstandings led me to wonder whether it was possible to have my own cloud with my own server at home.  I know it’s possible to have my own storage, but to access it from anywhere is what I was looking for.  I never resolved it, because the stuff is so confusing.

Then the next day after spending all that time on Cloud research, I see Jennifer what’s her name on TV because her and other celebrity’s files were breached.  So the Cloud idea is out.  Back to MS Word.  I’ll get a hard drive of some sort. . .

I’m writing this to get it out of my head, so I can move on.
I must rewrite that chapter.  I’ll never be able to bring back what I had written before.  I’ll see what happens.  It won’t be bad.  It’ll either be second rate or better than the first.  I’ll see.

Anyway, I’m going to get sit up out of the cesspool of grundgy waste water I’ve been wallowing in and climb the slimy walls of this pit I fell into.  Hoping I don’t slip back down.  It’ll be a long climb to the top where I see the light, but I’m determine to make it up there and back on level ground.

 

Unedited, no time, and I really don’t care.

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Categorised in: Life Now until the End, Writing

2 Responses »

  1. Losing writing is so frustrating because, like you said, it’ll never come out the same way again. That exact rhythm and the freshness of it… I used MS word and save everything to a flash drive at the end of the session. Then I take the flash drive with me whenever I leave the house. Every so often I will email the entire doc (in whatever stage of completion) to myself. It’s a pain, but it’s better than the alternative.

    Hopefully your new version will be even better.

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Writing Goals

My First Completed EbookNovember 11th, 2013
I will put my first Ebook on Amazon

The Background: Swamp Scene in Avoyelles Parish

The scene is a swamp in Louisiana, my home state. It is also the setting of my beloved story that I will finish one day, even if I have to take it up to Heaven in a folder with a pen. God would say, "you're still carrying around that thing?" I would nod my head and give him a humble blink, my pen and paper in hand. He would then ask, "so how are you going to get it to your audience when you're done?" I would gulp and give him another humble blink. Then I'd look down at my work and a grin would grow on my face . . . (you won't get it until after you read my book, once I do finish it. . .)
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