Posted by Kitty Griffin
It’s raining It’s pouring
The old man is snoring
Bumped his head
And he went to bed
And he couldn’t
Get up in the morning
Sometimes I read about the next new device coming our way and I want to go to bed and pull the covers up over my head. As my husband and I drove down Polish Hill into Pittsburgh’s Strip District, I couldn’t help but think that when my father-in-law was young he made this same trip—in a horse and wagon. And it really wasn’t that long ago. Our group talks about the digital landscape and we wonder how we’ll navigate. How do people who spend their lives thinking of stories fit in to this new world? Is there an app for that? I downloaded (of course) a new song from a Scottish group called, “We were promised jet packs.” It’s true, isn’t it? I really thought that by the time I’d reached this age I’d have a little jet scooter to get around on. All I have is a computer, Kindle, iPod, cell phone…so the transformation has been not in personal transportation, but in communication transportation, words at the speed of byte...oh George Orwell, you saw it all! What was that drug everyone had to take, Soma/Prozac/Zoloft? oh my. Here’s my question to you—ten years from now, do you think there will still be books, hard copy, cover, dust jacket books? As writers, let’s consider the future, our future. What will a writer’s life be like in ten years?
