Remember the daze we were hooked on fonix? You gotta admit that thoze were the best of timz becuz speling becaam so simplistic. No mor looking throo the dicshunary to lern the proper wa to spel in e givin werd.
Fonix maaks evryda liif e-z-er. Street siins becum a simple thing to reed. Labels on the bak of pakagez, a breez to understand and instrukshuns to most n-e-thing efortles to falow.
Wot I am having truble rapping my head arond is y we dident develep the wondurful proces we cal fonix erlier? It wood hav maad skool work much les of a chore, and liif n general a mor plesent xpereens, and y dident we adopt this program as i-wor regular corikqulum? . . . Sumtims we don’t no wen we hav it maad.
When writing, I’m in control of every situation. If I want someone to die, it is in my hands and my hands alone. If I want someone to live, it is in my hands and my hands alone. I have the final say in the smallest of instances.
When I leave the realm of the particular novel on which I’m working, all bets are off. It’s then I find how little control I have in the world around me.
The small amount of equipment, social media, or internet, that I am competent to use, pales to what is available.
Like most people, I have a smartphone, but in my case the vast majority of technology packed into that tiny package is wasted on its not-so-smart owner.
The computer I use most everyday will perform duties I’ll never manage and most likely never be aware of their existence.
I’m also the proud owner of a smart TV that is way and above smarter than me. I’ve even been unable to properly load Alexa. Sometimes she’ll talk to me and sometimes she won’t. I’m glad my wife is not as temperamental. Oh well, ‘Nuff said.