I’ve been on the other side of the technology coin. When I was finding myself (and other things) in Eastern Europe, I did not have a cell phone for 100 days. I wrote longhand in a journal-thing. I read 16 books. I even used phonebooths! I remember discussing these feelings of internal and external solitude with the Big Cat:
BC: Remember cell phones?
BC: Cell phones? Remember them?
BC: They were pretty convenient.
KA: I know.
We’d spent so much time with ourselves and without the use of modern technology that we were starting to get nostalgic about it. On some levels, this was great. Internal reflection, peace of mind, and not having to ignore ubiquitous “:-(” messages from my father, once my younger brother taught him how to use the texting feature, were all hella (NorCal shout out!) positives. But then we rented a computer in Prague. And all bets were off.
We attacked the Internets like hungry dogs, each trying to wake up earlier to first get a piece of the world wide web action. The computer became a new, new thing to fight about, and our complete cold-turkey experience without it had done little to quell the internal feelings that us Web 2.0 humans feel: Namely, who has been friending me on Facebook?!?!
So I guess my point is this: as writers, we spend so much time with technology in one way or another (just by the act of sitting at our computer) that–for us, perhaps more than most– actively cutting yourself off from that sort of thing is a hard, hard task. But writers especially need their time away from technology, away from the fast paced world of the ‘Net, and within themselves. It helps us make connections, it helps us figure out what we’re trying to do, and–most importantly– it doesn’t give us an excuse to go on thesuperficial.com and look at pictures of Kim Kardashian grinding with Reggie Bush.
Explain away your own technology-induced or fearing habits in the Comments section (located below!). I hope your weekend was well above-average.
Lord Tariq and Peter Gunz