A Writer's Notebook, Day Nine-Hundred-And-Fifteen

I found that a post I wrote a few nights ago was never posted.  I thought I had told the computer to publish it, but it seems that the command was not received, so it did not get posted until I noticed and fixed the error tonight.  I wonder how many times I have done this and if their are other pieces sitting in the electronic ether, pieces I think I have put online already, but which are still waiting for a final command before they can be seen by anyone but me.

I am not sure if this is a problem for most people who post content, and it may well be it is fairly common, but I can imagine it is another of many small examples of things that I find more difficult as a result of my dyslexia.  The visual nature of online interfaces, and of our systems in general, is difficult for me.  I find using a device to move a cursor on the screen to be very frustrating and difficult, as it requires a degree of coordination between a movement in one place with visual input in a completely separate location, and that movement is often not directly correspondent to the motion being done, in some ways.  I often find, when using a mouse, for example, I run out of space on the desk before I can reach the icon I am seeking, or that the direction I think I am moving is not the direction the cursor goes.  Now, this is a more general issue, but when I combine it with the need to memorize various visual layouts and the meaning of multitudes of symbols and menu locations, it becomes overwhelming, and I often forget steps that must be taken.  Even now, I am not certain what it is I did not do before, even though I was able to correct the impact of that oversight.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

Neighborhood Inhabitants There was a fox once, and another time, otters, and now a peacock that we think got lost during one of the storms. She stays down on the other end of the street, though, does not visit us. We have a racoon family that stays in our tree some nights, and there is a baby lizard, a brown basilisk, who we have seen several times. It is not supposed to be here, is invasive and troublesome to the local ecosystem, as are the duck.  I hear there are giant snails now who eat stucco or concrete or something of that sort. I have not seen one, though, I just heard they are here and big as my fist.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

I am still finding it difficult to get back to a more productive work schedule at the moment.  In part, I am sure it is that I gave myself permission to slack off a bit, and it is difficult to walk that back, especially because I am still writing and being productive, even if not to the same degree. I know it would be good to get back to doing more writing, but I also know that I am still meeting my core obligations, even if at a more minimal level.  Really, I just need to make the choice and force myself to stick to it.  To that end, I am planning to at least get back to work on my longer projects again tomorrow, even if I don't increase the poetry output right away.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

I received my acceptance to attend workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival next year and am very excited to be working with Matthew Olzmann, a poet whose work I have admired for some time.  He has a rare capacity for being simultaneously absurd and serious in ways that are hysterical, but with devastating insights underneath.  I feel quite fortunate to have the PBPF, and can say, honestly, that each workshop I have attended there has been incredible.  As a person who has taken many workshops in my life, and who often finds them wanting, I am always astounded at the caliber of the classes at the festival, both in the instruction and in the community of poets I have encountered.  I only wish it could be more than just one week out of the year.
Read more