Fell on the stairs coming up from the train platform yesterday. I smashed the hell out of my right middle finger. I didn't think much of it at the time, but when I woke up this morning, it was pretty stiff and and sore. It's not puffy, though, and I can bend it easily.
But getting up last night, realizing it hurt, and not being able to see what was going on with it, I had this suddnen, terrible fear:
"But how will I type?"
The answer, of course, is two-fingered typing.
But it's funny how worried I was about that. My entire livlihood, from dayjob to writing work, hinges on my abillity to get words down on a keyborad quickly.
I have nightmares about people cutting off my fingers.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
But How Will I Type?
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2 comments so far. What are your thoughts?
You remember the weird-ass language I invented and used in the Otter Sex story at Clarion? I invented that language after typing myself into repetitive stress syndrome one summer. It was like my hands were in mittens all the time -- no fine finger control.
The reason that language has very few words is because I invented it by tapping one key at a time with a pencil held loosely in my entire hand, like a chimpanzee trying to use a screwdriver to open a box and get the banana.
Be kind to your hands. Until the awesome speech recognition software becomes mainstream and easier to use, they're what you're stuck with.
Still, if you're paralyzed in an accident from the neck down, I can see Quadriplegic Kam yelling at her keyboard, "No, dipshit word-spellcheck! EMASCULATE! EMASCULATE! Why the FUCK would I want to write 'a mass collate'? Jesus!" :)
Posted by Patrick
I love you, Patrick.
You really must come to Wiscon.
Posted by Kameron Hurley
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