I wrote a complete story today for my NaNoWriMo book of short stories.
I did a quick read through and stuck to my bare minimal correction (as Tilly tells me: I have to write 50,000 words in 30 days, if I correct properly, I won’t finish) and I was happy with the story, particularly the ending.
I saved it. Please read again. I SAVED it. And then my self-hosting, private WordPress thingy-me-jiggy changed the screen and said I had to re-log in.
Being an obedient person, I did exactly that.
It took me straight back to my ‘post writing screen’ where I then discovered the last THIRD of my story had vanished.
Like, into thin air.
I clicked the back arrow. I clicked the forward arrow.
I shouted at the screen.
I banged my hand on the desk.
But it didn’t come back.
I looked at the previous drafts but it’s as if I never typed the last third of the story.
I called the computer competent one, aka my husband, but he’d abandoned me and my one third – he didn’t even pick up the phone.
I tried to pull myself together and remember the lines I’d written but CATASTROPHE: I had to leave the house to pick up the little one from Kindergarten.
All the way there I tried to make bullet points in my head reminding me of each point I’d written.
(In my next life, quite clearly, I’ll be a goldfish, I remember nothing. OK, truthfully, I remember odd things that no one else can like the date that the bacon that’s lazying around in the fridge will go off and the number plate of that abandoned car I spotted 18 years ago, but important stuff, that just flies out of my head.)
I told the little one NOT to talk to me as I recited:
- Mess up random
- But to destroy Christmas
I ran in the door, chucked my coat on the floor, dived upstairs and wrote with my heart pounding.
I love computers. But I hate them. You get me?