Hoo boy, was I excited! A computer! One that would sit on my lap while I typed! Yes, I know laptop ownership is nothing new but, to me, it was. And I was stoked!
Okay, to be honest, we're not talking about a powerhouse gaming rig that would bake me a cake on my birthday or anything. In fact, it was slow, couldn't play HD video, and games? Fuggeddaboutit! But, it ran Openoffice Writer, and that's what it was for anyway. It was very portable; I could take it wherever I wanted. And it fit on my lap!
So...
I sat down at my desk, flipped open the lid, pressed the power button, and waited for it to stroll its way through the boot-up process. I grinned like a kid on Christmas when I heard the Windows XP start-up jingle--and I may or may not have clapped and done a little happy dance.
Then, I opened the case that held the first draft of The Path of the Sword.
And my smile fell off my face with such velocity that, when it hit the ground, the impact registered on the Richter scale.
I carefully hefted the stack of paper out. It was nearly six inches thick. I looked from it to the computer and back. There are still tear stains on that first draft.
I was never an expert typist. I'm no hunt-and-peck, single-finger key stabber but I'm not exactly renowned for my blazing speed. It took me a month.
It was gruelling. Not only because there was so much but because my hand-writing was utterly atrocious. My four-year-old daughter does better with a Crayola.
A month of nothing but deciphering the scribbles--one letter at a time, in places--and tap, tap, tap away.
And when I was done, finally done, I didn't do a happy dance. I took two extra-strength Tylenol and fell into my bed.
I wrote The Path of the Sword, Blood of War, and all of Rites of Ascension III that is so far done. That little netbook lasted through everything I could throw at it and it just kept right on going. I wrote several other little bits and pieces on it, too, including the short stories that are here on this blog, a short story that I wrote for a dear friend and that I posted on the Amazon forums. I spent countless hours stumbling around the internet (Stumbleupon is more addictive than nicotine laced crack!), I spent ridiculous amounts of time in front of that little netbook and it kept on going.
The only thing it couldn't survive was old age. That amazing little netbook expired last week. Done. Kaput.
I bought a new notebook PC that is superior to that little netbook in every conceivable way. It's far, far faster with a high end Core i7 processor and a good Geforce GPU; it has a huge memory capacity--8 GB; it has a monster hard drive--750 GB; it has a 15.6" screen. It even has an audio system by Bang & Olufsen!
Yet...
I'm going to miss that netbook. It got me here. Almost five years, almost always on, almost always doing something. It's like your first car, or the home you grew up in. It's silly, but I'm going to miss that little guy.
Thank you, Acer, for the amazing little Aspire1 that made publishing two books and writing most of a third possible.
And, a special thank you to my mother-in-law and my father-in-law (rest in peace, Barry), for gifting it to me. It means more than you can know.
