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Game Changers

AdobeStock_104450030 pngWhen I was maybe nine or ten, one night the talk at the dinner table turned to computers. My dad worked for IBM, and I’d known about computers all my life. What I knew, however, was nothing like what we have today. I can still imagine the big green machines churning out pages and pages of paper, much of it blank. My dad would bring home those blank pages for us kids to draw on.

My mom said she thought the computer had been a game changer for society, and of course, she was right. Then she said something that shocked me. In my lifetime, there would be more great inventions, she told me. Things that would once again change the way society operates. I pondered that for awhile, then said, “Like what?” My parents both laughed, because of course, the point was we didn’t know yet. But it would happen.

It has happened, many times over. But so much of it goes back to the computer. Greater efficiency, more precision. Now, however, I have to wonder if we’ve gone a step too far. AI frightens me. Talk about efficiency and precision. I was curious about the AI writing apps and was alarmed to see how many there are.

Writing defines me. In my About page for this blog, I wrote “I believe in the power of words, written, spoken and unspoken. I believe what we write and what we create unleashes who we are, even to our own surprise.” That’s the magic of creativity.

I’m wary that eventually AI will blend into the framework of our society and we’ll stop asking these questions. I have friends who remember saying similar things about Adobe Photoshop, and for most of us now, it’s just a tool for creativity. Can AI become the same sort of thing? Should it?

I don’t want to lose the connections I’ve made through this blog with other creative people, many of them writers and a few photographers. But if a computer is churning out words that I claim but that don’t belong to me, those connections will be lost. And part of me will be, too.

Image Credits: technology concept ©peshkova–stock.adobe.com; computer room © everettovrk–stock.adobe,com

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Secrets in the Forest

Today when talking to my Mom, she commented that she’d been thinking about her late husband, my stepdad, all day. It bothered her, because what she was remembering were the tens of thousands of dollars he embezzled from the company he and a good friend had founded. She also mentioned tens of thousands of dollars she’d had herself that went missing. It all added up to one thing: she didn’t really know the man.

We all have secrets we take to the grave, and some will be revealed once we’re gone, whether we try to hide them or not. Some are amusing. My former roommate told me about a woman we both knew from church who’d tragically died in a bungled bungee jump. This woman was athletic, with a short, kind of manly haircut. We all thought she was gay, and perhaps she was. But under her bed and deep in her closet her roommate found dozens of romance novels of the bodice-ripping genre.

Other secrets are heart-wrenching. A good friend of mine found clues her brother left for her before he died of cancer, revealing that he was gay. This was a man who was conservative in his faith and his politics, which may have been why he stayed in the closet. He came out to a few gay colleagues, who comforted my friend after her loss. The thing that got to me when was she said she wondered if he’d loved someone and couldn’t–or wouldn’t–do anything about it. That broke my heart.

I have my secrets, but I don’t think any of them are bombshells that would shock friends and family after I’m gone. At least I hope not. I don’t want anybody close to me saying they didn’t really know me, at least, not in a negative way.

I think of secrets as something we keep hidden in the forest of our lives. Some are delightful, some are devious. Only we know the path to many of them. I have no words of wisdom here, only to say, your secrets are safe with me.

Image Credit: © PostReality Media–stock.adobe.com

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A Writer Writes

When I was thirteen, my dad brought home the family’s first typewriter, an IBM correcting Selectric II. I was fascinated, and spent hours writing back-cover blurbs to books that stood no chance of being written. They typically went something like this:

“Brittany is torn between her love for two men–the boy-next-door Jake and the dashing stranger Xavier. Knowing that fully loving one would mean giving up the other makes for an impossible choice…until someone new enters her life and gives her the courage to see things clearly.”

Nothing like a cheap romance. I could never write a book like that today (well, never say never, I suppose), but there was a time in my life when I contemplated writing Harlequin romances to make some money. I’d never read one, but I figured, how hard can it be? Then I read one, and thought, I’d be selling my soul. So much for that writing career.

AdobeStock_529380913I turned to my next writing venture, the one I’d studied for–newspaper reporting. For two years I covered city council meetings for a weekly newspaper. I loved it. I especially loved the fact that my coverage of some controversial issues garnered criticism from some city council members. This was to a point where one city took to having their “real” meetings before the scheduled time, only to put on a show of solidarity for me. They got in big trouble for that one.

I didn’t see a future in journalism, however, and got a series of  jobs in communications. Still, they couldn’t (and still can’t) completely take the journalist out of me. My strength was in media relations, pitching stories to newspapers and television newsrooms. I was, if I do say so myself, pretty good at it.

Today my writing is solely for personal, and not professional, satisfaction. I’m working on a novel, although I struggle with it mightily. I belong to a writer’s group that provides critiques and encouragement for my efforts. So far, the first few chapters are going well. I just don’t really know where the book is going. Hence my struggle.

To all you writers out there (and I know there a many in the blogasphere), I say, keep on writing. Find others who are doing the same and share stories and ideas with each other. You may never make a profit with your writing, but that’s not the point. The point is your soul needs it. And that’s enough to hit those ol’ typewriter, I mean laptop, keys again and again.

Image Credits: Typewriter keys © Miguel A Padriñán–stock.adobe.com; Reporter © Sergio J Lievano–stock.adobe.com.

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Woo-hoo! Happy Birthday, Beth!

Today is my sister Beth’s birthday. I don’t know where she’s living these days, but wherever it is, I hope it feels like home. I also don’t know if she likes cupcakes as much as I do, but I think she’d appreciate the artistic value in those above.

So happy birthday, Beth! Celebrate in style.

Image credit: © Ruth Black–stock.adobe.com

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It’s Gluten-Free Day!

I won’t advocate a gluten-free diet if you don’t need one. However, I do have a friend who has celiac disease and must eat gluten-free food or risk becoming very ill. She suffered with it for years, receiving misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis, until finally her adult daughter called and said, “Guess what? I have celiac disease–and I bet you do, too.”

Celiac disease is an immune reaction to eating gluten, and it affects the lining of the small intestine. It can be hereditary, as is the case with my friend (her grandson has it, too). A strict gluten-free diet is the best treatment. I’m no medical expert, so if you want more information, I suggest doing some online research at reputable sites, like the Mayo Clinic.

Anyway, Madlyn, my friend, sticks to the aforementioned strict gluten-free diet. Every other week I play Scrabble with her and our friend Deb, and Deb and I always bring gluten-free snacks. We’ve developed a deep appreciation for such food. Some of it is downright delicious–I particularly like the Snickerdoodles. Madlyn sometimes bakes something for us, like ginger cookies (yum yum) or pumpkin pie.

Many supermarkets have a gluten-free section, so if you’re ever in the position of having to provide a snack for someone with celiac disease, there should be something available. One of the local grocery stores where I live has a particularly good selection, and I’ve been known to buy cookies there all for myself. For the record, I do not have celiac disease, nor do I adhere to a gluten-free diet. I just like the cookies!

If you don’t have celiac disease, celebrate your good health. If you have it, celebrate the fact that there are so many options out there for good tasting gluten-free food. Whatever you do, just celebrate today!

Image Credit: ©mizina–stock.adobe.com