I knock myself out, writing those Newswithviews columns every week, and it’s extremely frustrating when the column goes missing.
You can get to the NWV home page, but you can’t open my column. Don’t ask me why not: the message I get is sheer gibberish to me, might as well be in cuneiform. I asked Susan to try to open it on her computer, and the same thing happened. So at least I know it’s not because my computer is broken.
I will check from time to time to see if my column ever sees the light of day. Then I can post it here, as I usually do first thing Thursday morning.
Meanwhile, everybody, please let me know if you spot hide or hair of it. Like, anywhere.
I lost a big chunk of this morning because, as I was peacefully, innocently typing the last post some two hours ago, the computer suddenly decided it didn’t want to type anymore. Hit the keys, tap-tap-tap, and nothing happens. The screen did display a warning box of some kind, which flashed on and off in just a second, much too fast for me to read it. Something about “filter keys,” whatever that is.
So I went and did our weekend’s banking and grocery shopping alone while Patty stayed here and fixed the computer. The keyboard was locked, she had to unlock it: shut the computer down, then start it up again, easy as pie.
Michael Crichton had a pet peeve about stupid design in technology, which he mentioned in several of his books. Here, one of my fingers must have touched whatever key locks the keyboard–I have no idea which, and certainly never did it on purpose. The computer keyboard provides all kinds of opportunities for disaster. All it takes is one little slip-up. I once lost five chapters of one of my books because I hit a wrong key somehow, and that whole great big job of work simply disappeared forever. Maybe some Martian has it. I had to do the whole job over again. How wise I was! to decide to type up my books in limited-size chapter sets, and send them to the editor as I finished each one. It could have just as easily been the whole 80,000-word novel. But if I go on about it any more, I’m going to wake up screaming.
Time for a cigar.
Facebook wouldn’t let me share my previous post, “To Be a Writer–Read!”, and I have no idea why. This box kept coming up, saying I had a link that was blocked. The only link I had was to a picture.
What’s this all about?
Well, let me see if I can post this one. *Sigh*
Computer stuff sometimes reduces me to gibbering idiocy.
If you notice that today’s “Joe Collidge” post appears twice, just forget about it. It is the result of a cascade of errors that I can’t begin to recapitulate, let alone explain.
Y’know, it’s rather a frightening feeling, to be messing up a routine task that you thought you knew how to do, sitting there in helpless horror as everything you do to try to correct the problem only makes it worse. It makes you feel stupid.
The WordPress happiness engineer has cleaned up the mess. I hope.
Pardon me while I go off and do a few primal screams.
There is an option available on my editing page, next to “Allow Comments,” that says “Allow Ping-backs and Trackbacks.” Sometimes a perverse spirit tries to tempt me into clicking that. I am deterred by the thought that if I click that option, WordPress will accuse me of “writing code” and something terrible will happen to this blog. All I know about writing code is that I must never do it. Oh, brother–what would happen if I accidentally clicked “Allow Pingbacks and Trackbacks” instead of “Allow Comments”? (He shudders.)
I’ve looked up “pingbacks,” but nothing that I’ve read has given me an understanding of what a pingback is. My wife tried, this morning, to read me an instructional post about pingbacks, but I kept getting hopelessly lost, two sentences into it. “Something terrible will happen if I try it,” I said. Eventually she agreed.
So there are no Ping-backs here, let alone Trackbacks, nor are there ever likely to be any. For all I know, a Ping-back will result in microscopic blue type on a grey background, virtually invisible. Or it might cause the rest of my hair to fall out. Unlike Elfego Baca, this blog does not have nine lives. So I have to be careful with the only one it’s got.