Tag Archives: computers

Computer Woes

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My Dual G5 Becomes Comatose

My Dual G5 has been acting up for a few months now. It started when the Firewire ports caused system crashes and iPod errors when both were in use. The iPod’s dock is plugged into the rear Firewire port; my iSight camera is normally plugged into the front Firewire port (so I can move it around easily). I had all kinds of problems when they were both plugged in and working at the same time.

Doctor, it hurts when I do this.

Then don’t do it.

So I stopped using them both at the same time, figuring it was a system software problem that would iron itself out in a future update. After all, the sleep/power problem I had on my PowerBook went away when I upgraded from Mac OS X 10.3.8 to 10.4.

Then came the startup problems. The problem: it wouldn’t start up. The power would go through it — I could hear all four fans running in there — but no startup tone, no video, no nothing else. Except a condition I call “hyperventilation.” It’s when the computer’s fans rev up to high speed, as if I’ve just put the computer out in the sun in the parking lot in front of my building on a July afternoon. (I truly believe I could fry an egg out there.) But pulling the power cord and letting it sit for a while usually cleared things up. Which was a good thing, because I had to finish a book before I went away and I needed that computer to get the job done.

When I got back from Howard Mesa for a week in civilization (or Wickenburg’s version of civilization, which misses the mark by a wide margin), I went to my office to take care of some accounting stuff and write an article for Informit. I pushed the computer’s power button. Power but no startup. Fans but no video. And no amount of power cord deprivation could bring it back to life.

I had a problem.

Although there’s a guy in Wickenburg who claims to fix Macs, I’d worked with him a bit on a networking puzzle and the solution he came up with was not workable. And although I was perfectly willing to pay him to come to my office to work on the problem, he insisted on working with me via telephone and e-mail. Which got me thinking: why wasn’t this guy willing to make house calls? Was it because he really didn’t know what he was doing? Or maybe he’s just really ugly and doesn’t like to go out?

Hell, I used to get $80/hour to make consulting house calls. Maybe that’s the problem. No one else in Wickenburg is willing to pay decent money for a decent computer consultant.

Of course, there is a great resource for Macintosh problem solving: the Genius Bar at any Apple Store. So I unplugged all the wires from the G5 and lugged it out to my car. My Jeep is at Howard Mesa, so I’m “stuck” with the Honda S2000. Not a bad thing to be stuck with, but the trunk was too small for the computer. I had to lay a blanket out on the leather seat and set the computer on that. And on the way down to Phoenix, every time I made a turn, I had to hold onto the computer so it wouldn’t fall over and either bash its way through the door or knock me senseless. (Okay, so it isn’t that big or heavy, but it sure seems like it when you’re lugging it down a flight of stairs.)

I went to the Biltmore Apple store. I waited about 30 minutes for a genius. She listened to the symptoms, then plugged it in and tried powering it up. I did the same thing for her as it had done for me: just about nothing.

“Power supply or logic board,” she announced. “Probably logic board.”

I wasn’t too stupid to know that the logic board for a dual processor computer was probably a cost-intensive item. I was right. It would cost about $700, plus labor. Ouch.

I started wondering whether I’d be better off just buying a new computer. The G5 was already a year and a half old (out of warranty, of course). But I usually buy a new desktop machine once every 2 to 3 years. It wasn’t time for a new one. And besides, perhaps I should hold off until Apple starts using those new-fangled Intel chips it plans to use. Just in case that change resulted in a major change to the operating system. I have to write about this stuff, you know. To do it, I have to have a computer that runs the stuff I write about. And I’m not interested in buying a new computer every year.

Instead of leaving it at the Biltmore store, I decided to get a second opinion. One of the Apple Store guys lugged the computer back out to the car and I drove down to Chandler. I was now about 80 miles from home. It was lunch time and I hadn’t eaten. I got a hand truck from the Chandler Apple Store guys and went back out to the car to bring in the patient. There were already 2 G5s sitting there on the counter. I wondered whether there was some kind of epidemic that was affecting G5s.

I waited a long time. I sat at the bar, using my laptop to check my e-mail and surf the Web. The good thing about Apple Stores is that they’re wireless hot spots. I got a lot done while I waited.

I finally got to speak to the Genius and, unfortunately, he had the same diagnosis. But the Chandler Store guys know me from my appearances there and my book. They were willing to eat the labor cost. All I’d have to do was pay for the logic board.

Why couldn’t I pay for the labor and let them eat the logic board?

Did you know that the logic board for a G5 is blue? I’m so accustomed to seeing green ones. And if you’ve never opened the side of a G5 dual, you owe it to yourself to do so. The darn thing is absolutely beautiful inside. It’s made of shiny aircraft-grade metal (whatever that means) and, when its new and clean, it’s a piece of artwork. “Sexy” is the word one of the Apple guys used. I have to agree. After all, if a car can be considered sexy, why can’t the inside of a computer?

So I left the computer there. Hopefully, it’ll be done this week. I still have letters to write and accounting records to play with. Sales tax payments — ugh!

The only good thing about driving the 80 miles back to Wickenburg is that I had my iPod to listen to in the car. And, of course, I didn’t have to worry about a G5 in the passenger seat falling over on me.

Fifteen Years as a Freelancer

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I realize (belatedly) that my fifteenth anniversary of being my own boss has just gone by.

May 29, 1990. That’s the day I left my last “real job” and began my life as a freelancer.

The job was at Automatic Data Processing (ADP) and I worked in the Corporate Headquarters in Roseland, NJ. I was a senior financial analyst, moved into that position after doing my required 2-year sentence as an internal auditor. I hated being an auditor, despite the fact that I was very good at it. No one likes a job where people are constantly trying to avoid you. Hell, men used to run into the men’s room when they saw me coming, just because they knew I couldn’t follow them there.

I’d been doing the 9 to 5 (well, actually 8 to 4 whenever possible) thing since graduating from college in May 1982. The ADP position was a good one, with benefits, a good paycheck, and a clear upward path in the corporate hierarchy. If I stayed and continued to play the corporate game — pretending, of course, that it wasn’t a game and that I liked it — I’d probably be some kind of vice president by now. I’ve seen the annual report — I still have 282 shares of ADP stock from the employee stock purchase program — and have recognized one or two co-workers in those coveted top-floor office positions.

But that’s not what I wanted. Heck, I didn’t want the corporate thing at all. I never did. I wanted to be a writer since I was a kid. My family pushed me into a career I showed some interest in, just because it would come with a big paycheck. Accounting was (and still is) something I enjoyed, but I wound up as an auditor and got burned out before I could escape. By the time I’d finally achieved the financial analyst position and spent my days crunching numbers with Lotus 1-2-3, I was sick of the whole 9 to 5 joke and tired of playing the games I was expected to play to move up. I wanted out.

My ticket to leave came in the form of a contract to write a 4-1/2 day course for the Institute of Internal Auditors (IIA). Ironic, isn’t it, that auditing got me into the corporate world and auditing got me out. There was a $10,000 paycheck attached to the contract, enough to keep me for a few months. I asked for a leave of absence, was told I couldn’t have it, and resigned. No hard feelings, just get me out of this place.

My mother freaked. How could I give up my career to be a writer? Watch me.

To help make ends meet, I got a job as a per diem computer applications instructor with a New Jersey-based computer company. The rate was $250 per day — not too shabby — and, at times, I would work as many as four days in a week. I averaged about 10 days a month and that really helped to pay the bills. They called me when they needed me, preferring their full-time employees because they were cheaper. They tried about four times to make me an employee and I kept turning them down.

I finished the course, wrote another one based on it, and got another job as an assistant trainer for a Macintosh troubleshooting course. That one had a nicer paycheck — $700 a day for two-day courses — and I got to travel all over the country. One year, in June, I did six courses in six different cities. I remember riding in the Club car of an Amtrack train on my birthday, admiring a rainbow as we approached the Delaware River from Washington, DC to Newark, NJ. Although I was allowed to fly to Washington, I preferred the train and took it whenever I could. It’s far more relaxing and comfortable.

Somewhere along the line, I started to write. First some articles for little or no money. Then a few chapters of a book as a ghostwriter. Then half a book as a coauthor. Then a whole book at an author. That first book with just my name on the cover came out in 1992 and I haven’t looked back since.

I did some FileMaker Pro consulting work for a while, too. I built a custom solution for Union Carbide. Not a big deal, but they needed me to update it each year and didn’t balk at $85/hour, so who am I to complain? I also did consulting work for Letraset at the same nice hourly rate. That was good because they were only 15 minutes from my house.

The trick to freelancing successfully is to not put all your eggs in one basket. I never — not once in 15 years — had only one source of income. I’d be training for two companies and writing articles. Or training for one company and writing books and articles. Or consulting and training. You get the idea. There was always more than one client, more than one editor, and more than one project in the works. Before I finished one book, I was negotiating a contract for the next. I remember one day not long after coming to Wickenburg when I signed four book contracts. Four, in one day. That was guaranteed income of $32K within the next six to eight months. And that didn’t count the other income producing tasks I was doing.

For some people, it’s difficult to stop getting a regular paycheck. I don’t recall it ever being difficult for me. I do remember the second year after leaving ADP having a dismal year and only making $19,500. That was a far cry from the $45K/year I pulled in that last year at ADP. But things improved quickly, I got out of that slump, and have since brought in considerably more every year. I’ve been pulling in six digits for the past seven years, a fact I’m rather proud of. I’m certain that I’m earning more now as a freelancer than I would have earned if I’d stayed at ADP to climb that corporate ladder. And I don’t have to wear a business suit or pantyhose to do it.

But no matter how you slice it, it’s not as smooth and easy as a weekly or biweekly paycheck. Advances come four to eight weeks after they’re due, royalties normally come quarterly, consulting clients pay a month after you bill them, magazines pay when they get around to it. You learn to earn first and collect later. You learn to avoid clients who don’t pay promptly, no matter how hard you need the work. If you’re good, you’ll find someone else who will pay on time.

The freelance life is not the easy life. Not only are you constantly on the prowl for paying assignments, but when you get them, you’re working your butt off to get them done on time in a way that’s satisfactory to the client. Anyone who thinks they can succeed as a technical writer — which is what I guess I am — without meeting deadlines and keeping editors happy is sadly mistaken. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of people out there who want the same job and all it takes is one who can do it a little better to get his foot in your editor’s door. I succeeded as a technical writer because I gave my editors what they wanted quicker than anyone else could, with a format and writing style that required very little editing or modification. My editors love me and, when they treat me with the respect I think I’ve earned, I love them right back.

By comparison, the cushy corporate job is the lazy way to earn a living. Show up, do what they tell you, collect a paycheck. No looking for work, selling yourself, and collecting.

Don’t get me wrong — being a freelancer gives me benefits that far outweigh those I’d have in a corporate job. No one is counting my days off. They’re not watching a clock, noting when I arrive late or leave early. I typically take one to two weeks off between books — if not more — just to clear my head. During that time, I goof off, fly, write blog entries, or go on road trips. Or all of the above.

But when I’m working on a project, I’m working long days, working hard in my solitary office. There’s no chat at the water cooler, no long lunches with friends, no personal telephone calls. Just work. I start at 6:30 AM and quit after 4:00 PM. Every weekday and more than a few weekends.

It’s a trade-off, but I don’t mind. I love it and couldn’t think of any other way to earn a living.

Last summer, I had the first real job I’d had since 1990. I was a pilot on a 7 on/7 off schedule at the Grand Canyon. I had to be at work at 6:55 AM and I worked until about 6:30 PM. Seven days in a row, with seven days off after that. It didn’t matter how busy we were or how much I was needed. I had to come to work and be there, all day long, even if there wasn’t a damn thing for me to do. Sometimes it drove me batty. I’d much rather sit in a cockpit and fly all day long than sit in a chair in front of a television. Some people liked being paid to sit around and wait. I didn’t. I hated it. But what bothered me the most was having to come to work on a schedule, even if I wasn’t needed. Such a waste of time. I don’t do that as a freelancer. I go to work when there’s work to do. When there isn’t, I don’t.

I suspect that I’ll never be able to work at a “real job” again.

But hell, I’m a freelancer. Who needs a real job?

iTalk

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But you knew that…

I was down at the Biltmore Apple Store today. I did a presentation about Mac OS X 10.4 Tiger in the theater there. It was a small crowd, but half the people there bought books — even though I swear I wasn’t pushing very hard — so I consider it a success. Too bad there hadn’t been 50 people.

Anyway, while I was there, I went through the “fire sale” bin. Evidently, Apple marks down reconditioned merchandise for quick sale. There’s nothing wrong with the stuff and it’s still covered under warranty. So it was worth a look.

About 75% of the stuff in the bins were iPod related. There were reconditioned iPods, including iPod Photos, iPod Shuffles, and iPod Minis. There were all kinds of headphones and earbuds, including a Sony noise canceling set and a Bang and Olufsen pair. There were wetsuits and leather jackets and sweaters for iPods. (Well, not really, but they’re so like those items that they may as well call them that.) Some speakers, too. But the thing that suckered me in was the iTalk. This is a recording device, from Griffin Technology, that attaches to the top of a 3rd or 4th Generation iPod or iPod Photo. (I have the iPod Photo.) You can then use it to record voice notes right on your iPod.

iTalkThe darn thing, which is smaller than a ChapStick, retails for $39.95. It was in the bin marked down to $29.95. So I bought it.

Remember, there is a considerable amount of geek in me and it’s nearly impossible for me to pass up a good deal on a new geeky toy, especially one that can fit in my purse.

I didn’t bring my iPod down to the Biltmore store with me, so I had to wait to get home to try it. It worked just as I expected. You plug it in and your iPod automatically realizes that a recording device is attached. (Apple products are so damn smart.) It brings up a menu that enables you to record a note or cancel. If you record a note, the menu changes so you can pause or save it. If you save it, it’s saved with the current date and time.

What I didn’t realize is that the iTalk is also a speaker. Okay, so it’s tiny and the sound quality pretty much stinks, but it’s certainly good enough to listen to those notes without plugging in your earbuds. And it’ll play music, too, but you’re probably better off listening to an old AM radio with a weak battery. Still, it’s a feature I didn’t know I’d bought.

Evidently, notes I record will automatically be copied from the iPod to iTunes when I Sync. This is A GOOD THING. It would be a pain to be stuck with notes in just one place. I haven’t tried this feature yet because although my PowerBook is home with me (I’m typing on it right now), I don’t sync that iPod with the PowerBook. I sync with my G5 back at the office. So I’ll have to wait until Tuesday to try that out.

In the meantime, I’ll see if I can get Alex the Bird to talk into this thing. I’d like to turn him into a geek, too.

Print From Any Room

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I can’t pass up a deal on a cheap laser printer.

Earlier this week, I was having serious, frustrating problems with my old LaserJet 2100TN printer.

The 2100TN is the third laser printer I’ve owned since jumping into the world of computers back in 1989. The first was an Apple LaserWriter IISC. The SC evidently stood for SCSI, which is how the printer connected to my computer. To my knowledge, it was the only SCSI printer in the world. It was also very expensive — at about $2,000, it was the cheapest laser printer available, with the alternative being dot matrix (inkjet had not yet been invented) — with toner cartridges costing about $110 apiece. Ouch. It wasn’t PostScript-compatible — a big deal in those days — and there were a few tricks you had to know to get it to print good quality text. I learned the tricks and used the printer for years. Then I found myself needing grayscale printing (oh, I didn’t mention that the printer was simple black and white?) and I had to buy a new printer.

The HP LaserJet 4MP came next. It was networkable, via AppleShare (using PhoneNet connectors), and I had a real use for that when I began writing and realized I needed a dedicated computer to run the software I wrote about. The 4MP was smaller and cheaper — I think I “only” spent about $1,000 on it. It lasted for years but, after a while, I started producing documents that were just too darn complex for it. To print these documents I had to save them as PostScript files and then download the files to the printer. It took 1-5 minutes to print each page. (Fortunately, simpler documents, like the ones that came from Word, printed the usual way and a normal print rate.) Around this time, my husband needed a decent printer, so I passed it on to him. He’s still using it and it prints fine. (He doesn’t print from PageMaker like I was doing back then.)

I replaced it with the LaserJet 2100TN I have now. This printer has a network card, so I could plug it into my Ethernet network. (I’d used an adapter to get the old 4MP on Ethernet when I abandoned AppleShare.) I didn’t realize how long I’d had it until I called HP for help the other day. My one-year warranty had run out in 2000. Not bad, considering this was the first real problem I’d had with the printer in all those years.

The problem was ghosting. I’d print a document, perhaps one with the Flying M logo on it. When the document came out, the logo would be at the top of the page, right where I’d put it, but it would be repeated 3-3/4 inches further down the page as a pale ghostly image. Of course, it wasn’t just the logo being repeated. It was everything on the page. The result: the page looked downright dirty.

I used HP’s Web site to look up support documents. The problem wasn’t really addressed much. I pressed magic key combinations to use built-in utilities to clean various parts of the printer. I ran print jobs with lower resolution (600 and 300 dpi vs. 1200) and with the HP resolution feature turned on and off. Nothing helped.

Now I use my printer for correspondence as well as to print off the occasional e-mail or PDF. I have nice, watermarked bond paper with my company logo and contact information in raised red lettering at the top of the page. (Evidently raised lettering is losing popularity on a daily basis, as people go for cheaper printed letterheads.) I have matching envelopes and business cards. What good is having all this nice paper for correspondence when the contents of the letter looks like crap?

I was at the end of my rope when I called HP. While on hold, I started browsing HP’s site for a new printer. I learned that they had a trade-in program that would get me $100 back if I sent them my old printer. No problem there; I didn’t want a printer that printed like that. Then I learned that there had been quite a few developments in the world of printing since I’d bought the 2100TN. I could now buy a color laser printer that could automatically print on both sides of a page for less than I’d spent on the 2100TN. Holy cow! Of course, the color cartridges cost more than $100 each and you had to buy four of them. (Ah, consumables!) For less than $500, I could get an excellent black and white printer that did the duplex thing and could attach to my network. I was trying to figure out how one model differed from another when the tech support person answered the phone.

Her name was Lori and she was a Mac person. How nice. We went through some troubleshooting steps that were not on the Web site and, after about 15 minutes, determined that the toner cartridge was to blame. I don’t know why — it had plenty of toner in it — but it had simply gone bad in the middle of its life. I always have a spare toner cartridge on hand — you never know when you’ll need one and it’s not like they sell them here, at the edge of nowhere. I popped it in, printed a test page, and ta-da! The problem was gone.

Best of all, Lori said she’d send me a new toner cartridge. It arrived the next day.

So my 6-year-old printer is working fine again. My call to HP’s technical support had saved me about $500, which is what I would have spent on a replacement printer. And I continue to be sold on HP printer products.

But the idea of a color laser printer had been firmly planted in my brain. I started thinking about getting an inexpensive one that I could use just for color jobs. Heck, it’s not like you’re limited to one printer. My only problem was that I wasn’t prepared to buy a color printer without seeing an example of its output.

On Wednesday, I had to take Zero-Mike-Lima up to Prescott for its 100-hour inspection. (Can you believe I’ve already flown it 98.7 hours since January 6?) My old 1987 Toyota MR-2 lives up in Prescott, at the airport, so when I dropped off the helicopter, I hopped in the car for a day of shopping.

I arrived in Prescott at 7:15 AM and Zero-Mike-Lima wouldn’t be ready until 3 PM at the earliest. That meant I had to kill eight hours.

Sure, I could have driven home. Wickenburg is only 90 minutes away by car. But why waste three hours of my day driving?

I did a lot of shopping that day. Unfortunately, I had the valet key for the Toyota, so I couldn’t open the tiny rear trunk. (The trunk release had broken years ago.) That meant I had to pile all my purchases up on the passenger seat. The car got fuller and fuller as I made my way around Prescott. Home Depot, Office Max, Michael’s, Linens and Things, Pier One, PetSmart — I was a woman on a mission. The mission was to see all I could see and buy whatever I wanted, provided that it that would fit in the car (and later, in the helicopter).

I’ll discuss the concept of information overload and how it applies to people living on the edge of nowhere in another entry.

I wound up hitting the Best Buy store in Prescott, which is pretty new. They put it on a pad outside the Prescott Gateway mall. It’s isn’t a big store — not like the Fry’s down on Thunderbird near I-17 — but it has a nice selection. I browsed the printers. I saw sample output from a color LaserJet. I was relatively impressed. Fortunately, they didn’t have the networkable model in stock.

I also tried three times to get an oil change for my faithful Toyota. It had been about a year and maybe 2,000 miles since I got the oil changed and it was time. But I soon discovered (and was shown) a huge dent in the car’s oil pan. No one wanted to pull the drain plug because they were afraid they wouldn’t be able to get it back in. They let me look at it from the pit where the oil change guys work. I was just amazed that the pan hadn’t burst. I knew the culprit: me, of course, speeding down the roads at Howard Mesa last summer. Oh well. Looks like I’ll be bringing the MR-2 back to Wickenburg after all. My mechanic, Dan, is the only one I trust with that car.

On the way back to the airport, I hit the Staples store near downtown Prescott. I wanted to buy a notebook. I’m picky about notebooks. They need to be spiral bound with the spiral on top and each page has to be perforated so you can tear it off cleanly if you need to. The cover should be plastic (not cardboard).

Staples had printers, too. And that’s when I saw it: a Brother laser printer for only $119 (after rebate). Holy cow! This was a far cry from my first printer, which had cost 16 times as much. The printer had a USB connection and was both Mac and Windows compatible. My brain made a cosmic leap. This would be an excellent printer for the house.

Unlike many other writers, I don’t work at home. I moved my office out of the house about four years ago and now work out of a condo in downtown Wickenburg. It’s about a five mile drive from my house. Too far to drive if I’ve created a document on my PowerBook and need hard copy. On those occasions, I’d hook up the computer to a phone line and fax the document to the fax machine at the house. Not the best quality, but it did work. Wouldn’t it be nicer to have a laser printer instead?

Of course it would.

I’ll admit it: I’m a laser printer snob. I don’t like inkjet printers. There are two reasons: 1) you usually need special paper to get a good image from an inkjet and 2) the desert environment in which I live is so dry that the inkjets get clogged up if you don’t use the printer every day. (My Epson photo printer has this problem and it requires that I clean the nozzles several times each time I use it. That wastes time and ink.) In addition, the space I wanted to put the printer (on a bookshelf that was already pretty full) had no room for those stupid vertical paper feed trays that inkjet printers seem to like. (Bad enough the fax machine, on the next shelf down, has one.) This Brother printer was very small and would require less than a foot of vertical space.

And the price! Sheesh! It’s a no-brainer.

So that’s how I went into a Staples store for a notebook and emerged with a laser printer. It was the last thing I managed to squeeze into the car. I had to put a few things in the car’s front trunk to make it fit.

I hooked it all up the next day. I was very angry to learn that the printer was preowned — someone had bought it, printed 20 pages, and returned it. Staples sold it to me as new. I had a talk with the store manager about that and was assured that they’d take it back for replacement if anything went wrong with it within the next year. He also said I could bring it back the next time I was in Prescott, but the way I see it is that if it works, there’s no reason to bring it back. It just bugs me that I bought an opened box after being assured by the sales guy that it had not been opened.

I connected it via USB to the Airport Extreme base station I have at home in the room we call the library. (It has a futon, a desk, and a lot of books. Oddly enough, not a single book is mine.) Then I installed the driver on the iBook I keep in the library and, within minutes, was printing a sample page. I installed the driver on my PowerBook, in the kitchen, and printed out an outline I’d been working on. The print quality isn’t as good as my 2100TN, but it’s certainly acceptable. Sure beats faxing it to myself.

And I can print from any room in the house. Or even from outside on the patio, where I’m writing and publishing this.

Isn’t technology great?

More About Writing Software

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I can’t believe people can use this kind of stuff.

While on the topic of software for writers (see “Software Isn’t Always the Answer“), a long time ago, I was given a copy of Dramatica Pro, “The Ultimate Writing Partner.” I think I was supposed to try it out and say nice things about it in a column somewhere. But since I couldn’t come up with anything nice to say about it, I didn’t say anything. That was nearly 10 years ago. I don’t mind breaking my silence now.

Dramatica Pro is software designed to help you write. Oddly enough, it comes with three manuals, one of which is a whopping 400 pages long, to explain the software and the writing theory on which it is based. (To be fair, one of them is a book of perforated worksheets, which seems a bit silly to me, since you’re supposed to be doing all your character development, plotting, etc. with the software.) It also comes with a fold-out Table of Story Elements, which presents the database fields and options you fill in while working in the software. For example, in the Universe class, Past and Progress are two types; in the Progress type, Fact, Security, Threat, and Fantasy are variations; in the Security variation, Effect, Result, Process, and Cause are elements. Confused yet? I was (and still am). No wonder there’s a 400-page book to explain this stuff.

I never got any farther than installing the software. I know because I have no recollection of using it beyond a quick peek at its interface. And it isn’t as if I didn’t try. I just pulled the software out of my closet to refresh my memory (before filing it permanently in the circular file) and I found a plane ticket receipt in it. I obviously took this heavy box all the way to Kansas City with me on a business trip back in 1997. Kansas City isn’t exactly a hot spot. I’m sure I had plenty of time to play around with the software after work in my hotel room. Yet I know for a fact that I didn’t use it.

Why do you think that is? Probably because I don’t believe that I need software to help me think. And I don’t think writing should be so complex that you need a piece of software supported by 400+ pages of theory to get the job done. 400+ pages with subheadings like “The Obstacle Character Throughline” — oddly enough, my spelling checker doesn’t recognize the word throughline any better than I do — and “Psychology as Obstacle Character Domain.” Hey people using this software are writing a novel or short story, not a doctoral thesis. Whatever happened to developing characters, formulating plot, and writing? Do you know how much time it must take to use software like this to plan out a novel? Especially after deciphering the theory manual and learning how to use the software? And what struggling writer has $250+ to plunk down on a piece of software that can’t even be used as a word processor?

Does it surprise you that the folks at Writer’s Digest rated this software as “excellent”? (I have my own theories about Writer’s Digest, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good to present them here.)

Guess what? I just did a Google search and found that they’re still making Dramatica Pro. And guess what’s on the home page of the Dramatica Web site? “February Tip: Separating the Story Throughlines.” (I’m starting to get curious about just what a throughline is.)

What’s my point? Damned if I know.

Oh yes. It’s this: all of the classics of literature and fiction were written without the assistance of a piece of writing software based on a complex writing theory. If those authors didn’t need software help, does anyone?

Heck, we have word processors. They had typewriters. Or pens and pencils. Or — dare I say it? — fountain pens. Isn’t that enough of a technological edge for you?

It certainly is for me.