I've killed a second keyboard. I killed one with Blackbringer, and now again with Silksinger and Lips Touch. Well, actually, this one isn't dead, it's just shabby. The last one truly died and stopped spacing, etc. This one just looks like someone with claws has been typing on it. There's a weird satisfaction in offing a keyboard. It means I've been typing a lot. I used to get the same strange satisfaction from an empty tube of oil paint. It meant that I'd squoze out all that paint and done something with it! It's the same here -- I squoze out this keyboard's allotment of words, and I need a new one! Yay! (Especially 'yay' since it was under warranty -- that was never true of paint tubes, and oil paint is expensive!)
I hate being parted with my computer while it is in Mac surgery. Hate it. Even though I have this old computer I am on now. I actually killed this keyboard once too, but I didn't write it to death, I only spilled water on it. There's no glory in that!
So, I shall start my new book with a fresh keyboard. A new writing program too, I think. I'm going to try Scrivener. I keep hearing such good things about it, and I need all the help I can get. I've written the last three books on bare-bones Appleworks out of loathing for Word -- but I always have to translate the manuscripts into Word before sending them off to my editor. I hate Word. Can't understand why it is the program. Bleh.
Speaking of 'bleh,' we're having a heat wave. Yesterday it was 102 in Portland. Guh. Today will be the same, but worse -- because the night didn't cool off as much as usual so there wasn't a whole lot of fresh morning air to start with. Wish we could take off for the coast for a few days, but a certain husband has too many assignments. Pthwt. Blessings, at least, for our one air-conditioning unit -- it keeps the studio decent. It was a hand-me-down from a friend of ours who left Portland for Los Angeles to do movie CG stuff, and has since moved on to Croatia where he has fallen in love. Isn't that lovely? An appliance with a history. My writing room, however, does not have a hand-me-down air-conditioner, history or not. I hope it doesn't get too unbearable today. Sigh. Wish we were at the beach.