Forgive Me For I Have Sinned: A Writer Without Writing

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I haven’t written for a while. And I call myself a writer. My excuses range from pathetic to legitimate.

Wanna hear the pathetic one first? It’s a stupid story reserved for clumsy and technologically disadvantaged people like myself. And it’s not that exciting but there is a moral of the story: be careful. If that sounds ominous, please disregard it: my intended audience for this reprimand is myself.


So what happened was I bought an Internet stick. I had been without Internet for so long that plugging in a stick which 1) worked and 2) had good reception (no easy feat at my house) was very exciting.

Like Mufasa in The Lion King when he carries Simba on high and tells him that everything he sees would be his one day, I lovingly carried my beloved Macbook and Internet stick excitedly pulsating with the blue sign which meant ‘connectivity’ from the kitchen to my study.

Looking back I now realise – yes this was a silly moment – I can see why the accident occurred. Pride, it was pride that came before the fall. Yes, the same thing that got Lucifer booted out with a one way ticket from Paradise.

Pride. I was literally kind of hopping from one room to another, holding the laptop with Internet stick plugged in and carrying it into my room. I was walking fast, too fast and my head was in the clouds. Oh how delightful life is, I remember thinking…

I have both a laptop and the Internet (THE INTERNET!? Have you heard of that!) at the same time. Oh boy, oh boy: you mean I no longer have to buy a Mount Franklin water, a Mccup of tea and likely buy something sweet from McDonalds anymore to soak up their free Internet? You beauty!

And such was my excitement, my surprise at the cohesiveness of my technological life, my marvelling at the present situation which manifested itself into a kind of proud, solitary dance that It happened, It being something which has happened to me a lot before and perhaps has happened to you as well.

I dropped It. The Macbook – and the Internet stick which was lovingly and efficiently inserted in the USB part – slowly dropped from being safe in my hands to the carpet of my study.

No – o – o – o – o – o! I cried out loud or perhaps I didn’t, perhaps that’s just how I felt: words came later as I stared at the unfortunate situation, glazed in disbelief.

My baby! Both my babies! On the floor. Oh what a terrible technological gizmo user I was.

Before calling paramedics I checked pulse. Were they working? Macbook, the heavier of the two, was still fine. Oh faithful, sturdy laptop, I knew you would be fine. Besides, we had already survived pernicious times, that was one of the reasons why I loved it: for its strength.

But the smaller of the two: the Internet stick, it had passed away. Adieu. To God it went. Or to the Land of Failed Gizmos, where the fire is never quenched and its fate may be a rubbish tip or, optimistically, maybe a recycled super duper art piece commenting on the fleeting nature of Humanity and Plastic.

The Internet stick bent: BAM on impact and was never the same. The blue light, so comforting which meant it was ‘receiving signals’ turned red and that was that.

I tried to take it back, I tried to tell the company that the Internet stick shouldn’t have been so flimsy but sigh – it was my fault. I knew it.

“It’s physical damage,” told the uniformed shop staff, a lovely young girl in glasses who inspected the Internet stick with thick acrylic nails and critical hands.

After that, I took a break from the Internet. This leads me, actually to the second reason.


Apart from “the dog ate it” (that famous old excuse reserved for primary school teachers for kids who don’t do their homework) I am all out of excuses. So I’m just going to tell the truth.

For six weeks, the writing of my first novel consumed me. When I work, I work intensely. I want to envelop myself in my work and for this period of time I want to just assimilate my work, to absolutely be immersed in it and just do the best I can.

So – with no Internet and an intention to live in my head and spend time with my fictional characters – I set about my task and stopped being Anna the Blogger for a while.

Now, I’m back. I have a brand new Internet stick which I treat like a newborn baby now and fuss over with much delicacy and concern and I have this blog – and Stories of Geelong – which I am coming back to you.

So please accept my apology for our long distance relationship and I look forward to writing more again soon! If you are reading this, thank you. You are why I write. Anyone who reads this – I don’t know who you are – but I am thankful. You – the reader – are the whole reason I want to write. But that’s another post …

One thought on “Forgive Me For I Have Sinned: A Writer Without Writing

  1. So is internet that hard to get here on the outskirts of civilisation? I thought it was only just my situation… in my insistance that I would only live in something that had some personality, and not a plaster/brick/concrete box without any soul and low ceilings, I failed to check whether my new digs had a phone line. Like what property these days doesn’t have a phone line?! That critical link to the rest of the world, or at least your connection to the internet and your email. But that’s what happened, I’d gone and got all excited about moving into this late 19th century premises, and lo and behold, found no phone line… I sat there scratching my head, musing on how I was going to survive, looking at my MacBook sitting there glowing forlornly in the corner?! I’d moved to Geelong… not only is there a dearth of cafes, bars and restaurants that open on the weekends and into the night, galleries you can wander through, bookstores to get lost in, venues to see some decent music in, but now I don’t even have an unlimited high speed connection to civilisation! What was I going to do?

    I also have joined the stick wielding brigade. It’s satisfyingly fast, but I’m most unhappy about the limit on my monthly download. The price you pay for moving from civilisation to the outskirts of sanity. As a writer I don’t know how you survive here, but your blogs posts are delightful.


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