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Thursday, July 3, 2008

What not to do.... a lesson in why we save files EVERY NIGHT

Where, oh where, has chapter three gone? Where, oh where, could it be? Did I fail to save? Did I delete it away? Where, oh where could it be?

It was a productive morning. Things were clicking along. The world was a bright and sunny place. And then I deleted 1500 words.


The new opening for DoJ chapter three just vanished into the computers ether. Unrecoverable is the word my local computer guru used. I saved the short version, cleared the clipboard, and hadn't pasted yet.

Way to go me.

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth I started a rewrite. My computer froze. Then turned off word with a polite note asking me if I wanted to send microsoft a letter about the problem. No, I don't want to send them an e-mail, I want microsoft to give me my chapter back!

Obviously the stars are not in alignment for this chapter to be written. Forces of either heaven or hell (possibly both) are against this chapter being written. The characters are on strike. And the author is about to be committed by loving relatives who want to know why her head keeps hitting the desk.

This, ladies and any gentlemen who have wandered by, is why I hate editing. This is why I hate mucking about and moving scenes. This is why I won't be meeting my self-appointed deadline. And regular SNAFU's (that's redundant isn't it?) like this are why I will probably get a job as Archchancellor of the Federated Planets before I get published. At least in politics it's *okay* to make documents disappear.


  1. Yikes! Hopefully you remember the good stuff when you go to write it again. Maybe you should take it as a sign to write on paper today. I swear some days electronics conspire to frustrate and work against you.

  2. The electronics are out to get me. They are plotting!

    After much frustration I gave up and maybe I'll try again tonight after kids are in bed.

  3. Aw, poor girlie! That's awful! *hugs*

  4. Yup, I've done that too. I cried like a baby when it happened and ate rocky road ice cream - and drank rootbeer, skipped the gym - to dull the pain. It was tought times, and it was a bleak house.

  5. Oh yes.... very bleak. Every time I go to rewrite I have this crippling fear of my word program and want to cry. It will be done though!