Well, dear readers, yesterday we had The Big Scary Moment. The Big Scary Moment was as scary a Big Scary Moment as I have ever had. I began finessing the pages I’d done the previous day, just like always. Just like always I made little changes here and there, added a few things – just the usual stuff. Then I’d written the first new paragraph. I had my hand on the track pad and went to scroll down a little further on the page, when suddenly the entire page had no words on it at all – the words had been replaced by asterisks. I’d show you what they looked like, but I HATE ASTERISKS right now and won’t use the little suckers for some time to come. I went up to edit undo and tried that – it did nothing. I tried again. It did nothing. And again – nothing. I scrolled up and saw that the entire document was now nothing but asterisks. I began to panic. I began to hyperventilate. The last thing I’d printed out had been up to page 300, but there were lots of fixes I’d done for muse Margaret. But I “save” every twenty seconds, but what was saved? Asterisks? I did know that whenever the last Time Machine backup had been I would have that, so I wasn’t completely losing my mind, only partially.
I got the 800 number for Microsoft Office and called it. The damn voice mail system was the worst ever and the more prompts it gave me the angrier I got. Finally, after ten minutes of that crap I got a person on the phone. The first thing I learned is that there are no Microsoft Office support people in the United States. So, one is talking to someone from heaven-knows-where and trying to understand them is quite a chore, especially when you’re hyperventilating. She asked me question after question, none of which had to do with actually asking me what was wrong. I got very testy with her, gave her the information she wanted, and then she switched me over to a tech support person, also hard to understand.
I explained what had happened and said she had to fix the problem. She said when this asterisk thing happens it’s a known issue. I said what do you mean it’s a known issue? Why don’t they fix it if it’s a known issue? I said that I didn’t care what was known or unknown, that I needed to have this problem fixed, that I wasn’t about to lose 369 pages of my writing. She asked if I’d saved a backup and I told her there would be one from an hour ago, which was the last backup that would mean anything. I also told her that if I had to use that, I would lose about forty-five minutes’ worth of work I’d done and that was unacceptable. She explained again that if you got asterisks there was nothing to be done. Of course, by that time, the asterisks had transformed themselves into little squares. And my 369-page document was now 133 pages of little squares. She asked me if I could send her the document so she could see what I was seeing. I went into my document folder and found it – there are little thumbnails in there and on the thumbnail I could see typing rather than little squares. That was the first sign of hope. I e-mailed her the document and she was able to open it and the book was all there. She had me close the document – when I tried to do so it asked me if I wanted to save before closing and she said not to. I closed it, then reopened it and thank the Lord the book was there, all of it except the new paragraph, and I think that was gone because I’d done those three edit undo things.
I was so upset and still shaking so I knew the best thing I could do was leave, eat, pick up packages, and then start again in the afternoon. And that’s what I did. When I came back home to start writing, I’d already made the decision to not go to the DGA to see The Artist. I wrote about twelve pages, took a break and sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on Blu and Ray entitled Dead Ringers, a region B release from France. I rank this film very high in the David Cronenberg output. It’s beautifully directed, and Jeremy Irons should have been up for an Oscar for it and would have been if anybody had actually seen the film. The score by Howard Shore is extraordinary. About halfway through, I paused the film, and came back to the computer and wrote another ten pages. Then I finished the movie. The transfer was excellent.
Then I took a hot shower, after which I wrote some additions, about three pages’ worth. Then I answered e-mails and relaxed, happy to be over The Big Scary Moment, and hoping we never have another like it.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get a good night’s beauty sleep.
Today, I shall hopefully arise by nine, then the musical director of the next Kritzerland show will be by to get music, then I’ll finesse, then I’ll write a few new pages, then I may have a lunch with a friend – if not, I’ll have a lunch by myself – then I’ll hopefully pick up some packages, after which I’ll do some banking, after which I’ll come home and write all afternoon and into the evening.
Tomorrow is more of the same and I’m so in book mode now I don’t have any idea if anything is happening this weekend. I do know we have to cast our final two singers and get everyone their music. I still have three or four songs to choose, too. So, I have to get all that done, without slowing down my book pace, as I have now entered the critical final section of the book, which is going to take all my focus and concentration.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, arise, have a short meeting with a musical director, finesse, write, eat, hopefully pick up packages, bank, write, write, and perhaps write. Today’s topic of discussion: What is the worst scare you’ve ever had on your computer? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to be over The Big Scary Moment and praying we never have another like it, EVER.