I love my dad, it goes without saying. I can talk to him about pretty much anything because we’re on the same wave length. We’re both creative, though in different ways. I write, at the moment he does wooden sculptures, unique spinning tops, and paints. Well my stepmum paints, dad can’t find the time. He’s unemployed, but still can’t find the time to do everything he wants. I no longer have a day job and I never seemed to have enough time either. So you see, me and my dad have a lot in common.
I don’t see him very often, not as much as I like, but he picked me and the monster up this morning and we spent the day with him.
Today we got onto the subject of eBooks and paperbacks. Dad doesn’t read very often, he likes audio books and reading magazines about wood turning. My stepmum loves to read, but even if dad’s got an iPad and an majority of books are available as eBooks. She still prefers paperback. There’s something about the weight of a book in your hand, the smell of paper. It’s a quality that an ereader lacks. It’s like I mentioned in my last post. Filling up your bookshelf, a real one, not a virtual one, is an intensely satisfying experience for me.
Dad, on the other hand, talked about how buying normal magazines just take up space. Where do you put them when you’ve finished reading them? It makes sense, downloading them and saving some trees in the process. Which raises another interesting question. How many would we save if we just download magazines and stopped cutting down trees to make them?
One of the ways that a writer connects with the outside world is through social media. There used to be a time, before Facebook and Twitter when writers had to do different things. Mostly they had websites, yes they did exist before Facebook. Ten years ago, before I had a computer or a smart phone, I used to get a majority of my information from books. If I wanted to read something I went a looked for it. I didn’t use Amazon, which I go on regularly now.
I never went out to look for a particular book but I was a regular at the local library. Through my late fees alone, they were able to buy a new computer. I’m not sure if it’s true, but it’s a running joke at my local library. The computer has made me thick and lazy. It’s not all it’s fault. I don’t have to find out everything via the world wide web. I’m intensely curious and using my phone to find out this and that has removed my need to look in a history book. Fiction, on the other hand, I still prefer books. That might be a strange thing for a writer to say, especially since I’m published in eBook format.
eBooks have their uses. It allows a lot more people to be published, be that a good or bad thing I’ll leave up to you to decide. I have a kindle, so I have read eBooks. I’ve discovered a lot of great writers that way. Writers who have started off in the eBook format, especially ones that I like, I usually try and track down something they’ve done in print. I like my bookshelf to be visibly full, you don’t get the same effect with a Kindle. I like reading in the bath. Can’t take a Kindle there, well you could, but I wouldn’t want to risk it.
So what’s the point of my blog post? Maybe we should all take a rest from the computer, go to the library and learn about something the old fashion way, from a book.
Since I had to give up the day job because of a ruptured spinal disk, I’ve become a lot like a hermit. Well as much as a hermit as a mother of a two year can be I guess. I have my life lines. I meet a friend of mine once a week and I take my son to monster, sorry baby groups. Adult conversation is a little thin on the ground. The other half works and when I do see him, I’m usually using my evenings to write.
I’ve managed to seccure a couple of freelance jobs, but I’m still so insolated. I think full time writers need a support group, especially if you use a pen name, let’s call it writers anon. Part of me doesn’t mind, I use my time wisely but in essence I’m just having conversations with myself.
It’s probably why I’ve had this weird feeling of deja vu for the last day and a half. My life has become routine. I get up with my son, we do stuff together until bedtime and then I crack open the netbook and write. I don’t know if that makes me terribly boring or a dedicated mother and writer. What do you think?