The value of the 'printed' word

The problem with being a writer in the modern world is it’s too easy to rely on technology in the application of the craft. Sure, micro-processors give us the ability to quickly pound out our thoughts for the world’s consideration, then email them or post them online such as on a site like this. Technology applied in this way is a good thing.

But computers will fail and systems and software quickly become obsolete; if we’re not careful about preserving our work while we race to keep up with the latest advances in software and hardware – while we transition – we can lose precious stories we’d set aside for some other day.

This is the case with an essay I wrote in the summer of 2001 which I intended to post today. A few years back, I printed a copy of this essay, titled “Tears for Nadine” and filed it away behind my W2s, insurance papers and passport. It was a wise move. The computer on which I composed this essay has been replaced four times over. I’m fairly confident that if I want to share the story here, I will have to retype it. I promise soon I’ll do this; first, I must locate the photos I took, which complement the theme.

Thus, this morning I’m viewing a body of work reliant on technology alone as highly vulnerable. Even the thoughts assembled here are at risk. After all, what if Blogger disappears from the internet without notice? Will I have backed up the site on a daily basis to insure not losing a single thought? (Not likely!) Certainly, among internet companies, Google appears to be as solid as they come. But Enron was once considered a sound investment. And who expected Rome to fall?

I have a business colleague, who I lovingly referred to as “old school.” He prints every single piece of electronic communication he receives; clearly, my friend doesn’t subscribe to the concept of a “paperless office.” At first I used to think his habit of printing everything was a bit obsessive, but recent hard-drive failures of my own have changed my opinion. Old school is just being prudent.

This morning, I’m grateful that for at least one moment between the summer of 2001 and today, I had acted prudently too. For I printed one copy of “Tears for Nadine” and stuck it in a drawer. Perhaps today I should apply a lesson learned and back up this blog too.