Yay! Back online

I'm online again at home. Phew.

While offline, I felt a little, er, disconnected. It's really, really odd. I've had the internet long enough that it's now apart of my writing.

It is a simple thing, when writing, to access Google or Yahoo or whatever to find that piece of information you need, or variations of the information. It's all too easy, and I think I'm spoiled; no, I know I'm spoiled. The internet is my own personal wellspring of information. Anything I want to know about, the internet can provide. It has not failed me, nor do I expect it to.

On the downside, there is too much information out there and I am of the personality type easily distracted by interesting stuff, while searching for something specific. I can spend hours looking at pages that have nothing to do with the current WIP. I know I'm not the only writer out here who does the same; writers are curious people who want to know things. Not just for our work, but because the world is a damn interesting place and the internet has brought it that much closer to us.

You don't need to go to China, to Siberia, to Alaska, to Brazil for research (although it would be nice...) you can look up the web pages and all the info you need is there, including stats and photos. As a writer you can imagine the rest: the smells, the light, the feel of the place.

The internet can show you everything from the exotic to the everyday, the naughty and the nice, the simple and complex, the past, present and future, the bland and the disturbing; it's all there at your fingertips, virtually anything you need to know, see or hear, the internet, in all it's evil, compelling glory, can provide.

But. That one blip and it was taken away from me. I felt lost, as if my information sense had been amputated. I like information pouring into my head every day, and for the last thirteen days I haven't had that, or not as much as I'm used to. It's... weird.

For nearly a fortnight, I've had to look up my reference books instead. Yep, look at the spines, pick the right book off the shelf, open to the index and hunt for what I need, then read the appropriate paragraph or chapter. Physical, distracting work, but exactly what I did before the internet came along and lured me away.

It all reminded me how much I love books: the smells, the texture, the new world inside waiting to be discovered, the information written in black on white that has been checked, confirmed and copyrighted.

My reference library is a Grand Dame: sophisticated, well-mannered, patient, educated, quiet. She knows her facts; none of the books would have been published if there was a... *gasp* lie within the pages.

The internet is a tramp: flashy, cheap, accessible, distracting and loose with the truth. Everything must be corroborated via another source, like checking in with the pimp and other customers.

My trouble, of course, is that I'm tempted by both. I'm fortunate to have the choice between the two.

Now that I'm online again, I feel more relaxed. This weekend, I'm determined to get some work done - and I'm belligerent enough to be rude to any mere mortal who presumes to interrupt me. Hah!