With credit as it is due to
‘s typewriter and apologies to any actual Marines on my flist. Today, this feels very true, and writing it felt more profound than it should.
This is my laptop. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My laptop is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.
My laptop, without me, is useless. Without my laptop, I am useless. I must fire my words true.
I must write above the expectations of editors who are trying to reject me. I must write books before books become obsolete.
My laptop and myself know that what counts in this book is not the number of words we write, how quickly we wrote them, nor the reviews we get. We know that it is the book itself that counts.
My laptop is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a sister. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its programs and its applicatons. I will ever guard it against the ravages of user error and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my heart against damage. I will keep my laptop clean and ready. We will become part of each other.
Before the Muse, I swear this creed. My laptop and myself are the defenders of my work. We are the masters of our art. We are the saviors of my life.
So be it, until the book is done and there is no deadline, but beer!