My Bad Techno-romance

A lot has changed in my life since my book came out. I started substitute teaching. My running time has slowed to something just above a walk. (I continue to call it running because I am breathing hard.) Three years ago, I created a Facebook page-- ostensibly to help create some momentum for the Lancaster Literary Guild web page. In reality, the Facebook page, along with the iPhone I got around the same time, has reshaped my daily life. Whereas previously, I could not even remember to take my cell phone with me-- I now keep a death-grip on the thing. My electronic self and physical self are Siamese Twins. Of course, I had to buy an iPad. My new obsession only larger. For my ADD mind, these devices are both saint and demon. They help me with the tasks I need to plow through, but I believe that they have also rewired my brain so that I have an even greater difficulty focusing and being present. When it comes to details, I am slipping. I had a great memory for details, but now my husband says I am unreliable if we are talking about anything in the last 3 years. I am still allowed to win arguments when the facts in the case date prior to 2009.


More recently, I have begun to see technology as a Hydra monster. As soon as I master one branch of it, nine new offshoots take its place. Helping my son through his college search, planning a family vacation to Europe. I can find any information I want, but ultimately that information leads me down five other paths until I have a hard time finding my way out. Enter into this a new mission to make my author self a force in the digital world. I am overwhelmed. It isn't enough to have Twitter and Facebook and a web page; they must all be linked. I need to create creative, dynamic content. I recently talked (who am I kidding?—we conversed on Facebook inbox.) to an author friend of mine. She said that she spends more time on social media than actual writing. That thought almost sent me to live under my covers. It isn't that I don't like Facebook. I do. I am thinking of having the post office forward my mail there. But the thought that the world of writing has evolved into this computer game where you rack up points for followers and only have so many lives to keep in the game is scary and unappealing.

I finished reading A Moveable Feast by Hemingway. I was reading it because we are getting ready to journey to Paris. When I think about the romance of Paris, it will forever include images of writers sitting in cafes with their cafe crèmes and their notebooks with a few sharp pencils and their own words for company. That is something to long for. This longing for stillness, for knowing our own minds and finding out our own identities under this madness of technology, is a theme in the novel I am writing. If the world keeps spinning the way it is, I think it will wind up in the fantasy section.

Still loving the iPhone

I can go for a walk, stay in contact with the kids, have emergency contact, listen to music and podcasts, text or write myself a note (often a walk will clear my mind and allow me to remember something important that I want to call to mind when I get home), and take photographs of nature and things I observe. Plus I can map my route and see how far I've gone and approximate calories consumed. Now, all of this depends if I am out for true exercise or mental escape. But the iPhone is great tool for me to hone my intent. If I want a hard session, I listen to my iTread workout. If I need to think, I can put in a meditation tape. I can use it to learn with podcasts. And if my walk gives me artistic inspiration I can take pictures or notes. I can even check the weather before I go to make sure I am dressed appropriately.

Market Baskets and iPhone

I have often remarked about my Little House on the Prairie ideal vs. my husband's Star Trek ideal. This year, I relished in giving books and market baskets. His big gift to me and himself were matching iPhones. I am used to getting tech gifts from him. That's fine. Something I wouldn't give myself. I tend to buy Mark more books than he can read. (I was good this year and only got him a subscription to Runner's World.)

Now part of my LHOTP wistfulness is a wish for a simpler time. Self sufficiency, community participation, direct contact with the food chain. I am not a technophobe, but what bothers me about technology is that I constantly have to update my skills--especially after I have managed a degree of proficiency with the old technology so that I can work it with the fluidity of muscle memory instead of brainpower. The other thing that annoys me about gadgetry is that I have to live in a state of dissatisfaction. I can never be happy with what I have; I must be constantly alert for updates, in both software and hardware.


Now I must backtrack a bit. I've been carrying a big purse lately to accommodate my day planner, journal, books, etc. I also tend to carry my market bag with current projects or books. But this past week, I have suffered a bad back. I do long for simplicity, but being confined to a sofa with nothing to do but explore iPhone applications, I am beginning to see that simplicity can come in many forms. If I set myself up right, I could be carrying one tool for use in/as navigation, diet log, calendar, grocery list, wine guide, phone, iTunes, pedometer, knitting patterns, address book, email, flashlight, clock radio, reading books and articles, diary, personal trainer, surfing web, art gallery, meditation timer, and restaurant locator. It's like the Swiss Army knife of life. If it could function as a corkscrew, I could probably be set for life. WOW! Now all of this will take a bit to set up, and a bit longer to be comfortable with it. I am going to be very hard pressed to give up my paper day planner, but I think that bad back will prevail, and I will at least try a paperless version.

For some time, I felt that maybe technology and subsequently my husband were at odds with my values of simplicity, but I think I am beginning to see what gains I can make in my life.

1. Going paperless will save on resources. No more printing maps and directions
2. I won't expend as much energy looking for all my stuff and cursing myself when I forget it.
3. I can further save on space by downloading books--something I am not eager to try, but with dwindling bookshelf space, I must think about.
4. One device to plug in. One power cord to keep track of.
5. In sync with my hubby.

So, I may at times give commentary as to how I am doing, making the iPhone a tool for my life, instead of making my life fit the phone. I've already thought of an application I have yet to see: Produce stand/local food source locator. Can someone get on that? I need to fill my market basket.