Today is Thanksgiving, so I wish to take this opportunity to express my gratitude for modern day writing.

 

Aeschylus the Greek playwright, who was (supposedly) killed by a falling turtle when an eagle mistook his bald head for a rock, wrote the Oresteia on paper made from reeds.

I bless Staples and all trees everywhere.

 

The medieval monks copied books by hand. It could take up to a year to make a copy of a book. They were works of art with colors that have never been repeated.

I am grateful for my printer and its ten pages a minute.

 

Shakespeare wrote with a quill pen using an ink pot and a blotter. (I hope he wasn’t left handed. It’s much harder if you‘re left handed.)

I am thankful for my computer.

 

If he wanted to change a line he had to scratch through it.

I bless copy and paste.

 

What if James Joyce wanted to rename a character in Ulysses? It would have taken forever.

I bless find and replace.

 

TE Lawrence left his manuscript of Seven Pillars of Wisdom in the refreshment room at reading station.

I count my blessings every time I save and then email myself a copy of a story.

 

Countless authors trudge countless miles to libraries and archives to research their project.

I love libraries, but I am overwhelming thankful for the internet and its endless possibilities.

 

Writing is a lonely task. You can wait a long time and spend too much on an editor for your work.

Rephraser is a writer's best friend, especially if English is your second language. Just wait and see.

 

 

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