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Friday Flash Fiction – Digital Dialogue

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Branching Out

Andrea: ‘Are you okay in here Mum, tea’s just brewing, do you want the crossword?’

Grandma ‘No, I’m fine, I’ll just have a quick look at my ipad.’

Millie: ‘Do you want a cake Grandma? Grandma, do you want a cake?’

Grandma: ‘What… oh sorry Millie, yes please, look at this sweet puppy…’

Millie: ‘Mummy says we’re not allowed to have screen time when we got visitors.’

Grandma: ‘I’m just showing you how well I’m getting on with my Christmas present.’

Steven: ‘Good heavens what’s that noise?’

Grandma: ‘Just a Typhoon taking off from RAF Northolt.’

Steven: ‘How on earth did you get that?

Grandma: ‘I think I’m their Facebook friend… oh, I’ve got 63 emails, I’d better check in case there’s anything important. … a new post from Wordynerdybird    How To Avoid Blocked Hashtags On Instagram…  I haven’t done Haashtags yet, what does that mean Steve?’

Steve: ‘You don’t need to know that, you’re not on Instagram or Twitter.’

Grandma: ‘Do you think I should be?’

Steve: ‘Noo… no, today we’re just doing Facetime.’

Grandma: ‘How far ahead are they in the USA?’

Andrea: ‘Eight hours behind, they’ll still be in bed.’

Millie: ‘No Mummy, seven now, their clocks went forward this weekend.’

Andrea: ‘Come on, don’t let Grandma’s tea get cold, have you told her how you got on with your project?’

Grandma: ‘Oh oh, there’s an amber weather warning.’

Anthea:  I thought we’d finished with the bad weather.’

Grandma: ‘Storm coming in from the Indian Ocean, ah that’s Western Australia. Lovely cakes, what was your project Millie?’

Steve: ‘Is that the police helicopter, sounds like it’s over our roof.’

Grandma: ‘No, it’s KTNV Channel 13, flying over Las Vegas… car chase, I bet he’s going to get away.’

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Millie: ‘Weather’

Grandma: ‘I can help you with that, I’m on North Yorkshire Snow Updates.’

Millie: ‘But Grandma, you live in East Sussex.’

Grandma: ‘But North Yorkshire has better pictures and more weather. I’m on East Sussex Memories, do you want to see that?’

Anthea: ‘Mum, how did you get on all these?’

Grandma: ‘It’s ever so easy, I just press LIKE, I have the whole world at my fingertips. Do you want to see The Great Karoo?’

Millie: ‘Is that an animal?’

Grandma: ‘No, a desert. You should ask Mummy and Daddy to get you an ipad, you learn such a lot. Here we are, New Malden Past, Present and Future, that’s where I grew up. I just need to work out how people get their old black and white photos on here. I’ve found two old school friends.’

Anthea: ‘How many new Facebook Friends have you got, hundreds?’

Grandma: ‘Only 99, but on four continents. Then there are my blogger friends. Let’s look at today’s new posts Koolkosherkitchen and Koolaidmoms. I need to learn more about the USA before we go to visit your cousins.   Smackedpentax, he’s English, takes lovely photographs. Tidalscribe Friday Flash Fiction Digital Dialogue – wonder what that’s all about?’

Anthea: Mother, what are you talking about, I preferred it when you brought your knitting.’

Grandma: ‘I thought you wanted me to branch out.’

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Friday Flash Fiction – SixSixty

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In Good Spirits

I had hoped to get on the computer this evening to follow up my research at the local library, but my husband’s idiot friend Paul was coming round for dinner with some new update, App or whatever they call them. For all I know he could be a computer genius; as I am a technophobe who only knows how to Google I have no way of judging. Both men dispatched the meal quickly, eager to play with the grown up toy. I was only half listening to what Paul was saying with his mouth full.

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‘I’ve really done it this time, what Houdini and Arthur Connan Doyle failed to do; you two are going to be the first to try it out. You both must know some dead people.’

‘What are you talking about Paul?’ I finally asked.

‘Ouija-App, Soulbook, Ethernet; not sure what I’m going to call it yet, that doesn’t matter, the point is it works, it’s true.’

‘What is?’ asked my husband.

‘Haven’t you been listening? I started from the premise that there is nothing out there, only electricity and the radio waves living people have broadcast. Then I formulated the search on the theory that if we did survive after death we would most likely be in a form of electrical energy, after all, don’t our brains work with electrical impulses?’

‘You are no scientist, nor a doctor’ laughed my husband.

‘That’s an advantage, my ideas are fresh and unfettered.’

‘So who did you contact?’

‘Somebody I had never heard of… all the better, I could not know anything about him.’

‘No proof that he ever existed.’

‘Yes, he told me where to find his gravestone.’

‘Another computer geek is just having you on, he was their great granddad or they looked him up on the internet.’

‘No reference to him on Wikipedia, a nobody who lived and died and left nothing behind except the epitaph.’

‘Not a very interesting person to chat to on the other side’ I said.

‘On the contrary, he had fantastic ideas when he was alive, but nobody listened to him. He has been waiting for someone like me to get in touch.’

‘Pudding, coffee?’

‘Bring coffee upstairs to the computer, let’s get started.’

I felt the first misgivings. ‘Are you actually serious?’

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‘There he is, my Facebook friend Nathanial.’

Indeed, there was a black and white picture of a Dickensian character.

‘People put old photos on Facebook all the time’ said my husband.

‘But the photos don’t usually write their own comment… look.’

Hello Paul, couldn’t find a better photo than this, I see you have your two cynical friends with you.

Paul tapped at the keyboard, words appeared in the comment box.

‘Give them a chance, this is all new to them.’

A reply came back straight away.

Perhaps they would like to meet the original inhabitants of this house?

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A shiver went down my spine, we lived in an old house, I had been researching its history, but perhaps I could play Paul at his own game.

‘Let me type a comment.’

I tapped in ‘Yes I would, if they tell me their names and when they lived here.’

Words appeared instantly in the comments box.

Benjamin and Martha Helston, married 20th June 1876, took the lease on this house 5th July 1876, were blessed with a son Samuel James 8th September1877 and two daughters…

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‘Stop, this is creepy, have you been looking at my research notes Paul?’

The writing on the screen continued, while I found the paper notes I had taken at the local library just that afternoon.

…and you can see where he marked his height on his tenth birthday –  on the scullery wall where you stripped off that ghastly wallpaper recently.

My husband gasped. ‘Of course SJH, those markings prompted your interest in the history, didn’t they Love, but we haven’t shown Paul yet what we’re doing in that room…’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Virgin Snow and Virgin Boxes

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There was more disruption in our house this past week due to upgrading of the Virgin Box than there was due to the Beast from the East. The new box had been safely delivered before snow. Cyberspouse was waiting for an open ended day to unplug the life support system and replace the old box; Virgin claimed two hours should be allowed, he wanted five hours to be on the safe side, but there is never a good time to detach the umbilical cord to the outside world and the ether we writers need to breathe.

Thursday night brought freezing rain on top of the day’s continuous snow. Friday morning was a white delight, but the beautiful virgin snow was now frozen hard. We were not going to starve if we stayed home, would probably not get scurvy if we relied on baked beans and frozen peas. But with local shops so handy we’re used to daily shopping, more importantly I did not want to miss out on Day 2 Snow Experience and more pictures for Instagram, Facebook and my website. We planned a circular walk to the cliff top and down Grand Avenue to the Grove for coffee and shopping.

It was a foolish mission that could have ended in disaster; impossible to walk on the icy crust of snow, hanging on to garden walls was not an option as they were covered in ice. We weren’t the only ones who made it to the cliff top, just the only ones without dogs or children. It wasn’t as cold as Thursday, the sky was heavy laden, insulating us and I could just about take my gloves off without getting frostbite and operate my smart phone.

Our favourite Ludo Lounge was open and it was packed. With schools closed and parents unable or unwilling to go to work it was like summer holidays, but with ice and slush. A waitress said they had received twenty eight phone calls before 9.30 am checking if they were open; people had their priorities right.

The greengrocers’ was closed, however Sainsburys’ was open with enough veggies for a good stir fry. But something was wrong, there was no milk on the shelves. It hadn’t occurred to us that out in the real world milk tankers would be unable to get to farms or back to dairies, nor would delivery lorries be able to get to supermarkets or corner shops. With only enough milk left for me to have two cups of tea this was a First World Problem of mega proportions, but Cyberspouse takes everything black and we have a Tassimo coffee machine. Worse was yet to come.

Saturday the snow melted, I bookmarked everything appearing on line and the WiFi was switched off; as predicted by me, the new box did not work. The help line was rung, the engineer would come out on Tuesday. No Saturday night Swedish Noir on television, no Facetiming Australia early on Sunday morning and no blogging.

This big First World problem had a First World solution, our smart phones would keep us in touch with the outside world and I could still put pictures on Instagram and Facebook, but phone screens are small. If I was a Borrower it would be fine… The Borrowers, by the English author Mary Norton, published in 1952, features a family of tiny people who live secretly in the walls and floors of an English house and “borrow” from the big people in order to survive. How they would have loved to borrow my Samsung phone to use as an interactive big screen TV.     https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Borrowers

Smart phones are great when you are out or on holiday, people can’t resist checking them at five minute intervals. But with minute writing and the perils of predictive texting it is not the way I like to read, enjoy and comment on blogs and photographs. If anyone has received any strange comments from me I apologise.

I did at least get more of my novel written with no distractions. By the time I got home on Tuesday evening all was restored. I’m blogging again, but my Bookmarked list is longer than ever. Visit my website to see snowy pictures.

https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter-two-coastal-views

 

Multi Media Muddles and Miracles

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When I was four years old my parents got their first television; I thought the people on the screen lived in the cabinet underneath and I was too scared to open the doors. For all I know about computers, it could still be the case that the people who spring to life on Facebook or utube live under my desk, in the black magic box that is called a desk top computer, though it is sitting on the floor.

Even those exalted friends and colleagues who are in computers, do programming or the person who turns up in your office when you call ‘IT’ probably don’t know how the magic really works.

Until it stops working, writers don’t need to know how their computer works; they only need to know how to type and how to use the internet. Indie Authors come via many routes to arrive in the same virtual meeting room, but we have all been told along our journey that we need a media platform.

Ideally this is supposed to be in place before you start your novel, let alone finish it, but many of us would never have got our books written if we had jumped in at the deep end. Instead we learn by osmosis and help from fellow writers; probably once a month discovering some technical short cut that is second nature to everybody else.

My guide to computer technology should not be followed… Never click on any strange symbol in case you wipe out everything you are doing. If something goes wrong, switch off every piece of equipment and announce loudly that you are going downstairs to cook dinner. Then sneak back in when the computer least expects it, turn on and hope for the best.

Anything I have created that appears on line is more by luck than judgment, perhaps even a miracle. When I joined Goodreads my picture insisted on being sideways, it was a long time before I figured out how people put pictures on Facebook and it was only a few weeks ago that I managed to change from a snowflake to a human representation in those little boxes next to LIKE at the foot of Worpress blogs…

But as fast as we establish one base it changes, or our superiors tell us nobody is using that anymore. Hopefully WordPress will be around for a while. I was a latecomer, realising nearly everyone except me was on it. Domains, websites, Amazon Author pages, Facebook pages; whatever you use needs to be fed, nurtured and updated. Nothing looks worse than a website that even the owner has not visited since October 2016. Of course there is no guarantee that anyone will visit your website or blog among the millions out there in the ether. Every day, in cathedrals all round the country, choirs will be singing evensong; even if not a single member of the public turns up the service will go ahead. That is the cathedral’s main purpose. And if a single soul does turn up seeking God, they will be ready for him.

Our websites are unlikely to have such a high calling, but just in case someone finds themselves in our own special domain we want it to look good and grab their interest. My website does not have moving pictures, falling snowflakes or firework displays, but there are topical pictures and enough to read for your coffee break.

Not only is it a miracle that I am on the internet, the internet is a miracle.

https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/

Ringing Round

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When I was in my last year of The Brownies and aiming to get my Golden Hand badge, part of the test was to make a phone call; a far cry from this week’s news of a major revamping of badges with Rainbows, Brownies and Guides encouraged to take part in new challenges involving app design, entrepreneurship, “speaking out”, upcycling or vlogging.

But my little task was still a big challenge for me. We did not have a telephone at home and it was about this time that my friend and I were sent up the road to the phone box with some coins, a set of instructions and a mission; to phone my father at the office. To this day I have no idea what was so urgent that could not wait till he came home from Waterloo with all the other commuters. My friend was sensible and two years older than me, but still we did not achieve our task; the mysteries of Buttons A and B defeated us.

Meanwhile, back at the house of a complete stranger, a respectable middle aged woman, my task was to phone Brown Owl. I was as terrified as anyone going for a driving test or important job interview; I failed, probably the only Brownie in history to have to do a re-sit for her Golden Hand.

A letter in the paper the other day suggested we had forgotten how intrusive the telephone was, how wonderful emails are and how infuriating people are who refuse to use them. I heartily agree, emails were made for me. I have never liked phone calls; they always come at the wrong moment, or the phone stops ringing just as you race in from the garden with muddy hands. Hands free phones are a help, but still interrupt your favourite programme.

I admire people who efficiently get on the phone the moment something breaks down or a letter arrives in the post requiring action; I’m more inclined to write on my list of things to do – phone insurance co. ring boiler repairs.  When it comes to personal calls I procrastinate… they might be cooking/eating their dinner, feeding the baby, making love, watching Eastenders, I’ll call later… later they might be having an early night… I’ll call tomorrow…

Emails can be written any time and the receiver can read them when it suits and not be caught off guard; with time to think of a good excuse not to come to your coffee morning. The other advantage is to message all your friends, club members etc at the same time, but there is always one person in every club or group who does not do email and constantly complains ‘Why can’t you just ring round.’ We should not rush to judge; how many decades passed between the phone being invented and everyone having a telephone in their homes? Even people who are on the internet forget to check their emails and miss important messages.

Technology rolls on rapidly; we don’t use our mobile phones as phones, but to read our emails. Emails themselves are being superseded by What’sApp and Facebook Messenger. How easy it is to message six people at once on the other side of the world and send them photos. On your computer you can follow Facebook and have several message boxes open in the corner of your screen…

And then there’s Skype and FaceTime etc which bring us round full circle to actually talking personally to someone. Ironically ‘Televisionphones’ have been invented, but they are not the screens attached to our immovable house phones that we once imagined. Now we can wander around in our pyjamas showing relatives on the other side of the world what our new house looks like.

But emails are so useful if you wish to avoid eye contact or awkward conversations.

The first story in my latest collection ‘Someone Somewhere’ starts with the words ‘I got an email from him…’ an enigmatic message is the only clue to a lost son…

Into Infinity

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Do you keep a diary or resolve to keep one every New Year? Many years ago I was given a five year diary which lasted at least a decade of good intentions and still has many blank pages, but it does record some major life events; if anyone can ever decipher the tiny writing crammed into the allotted space per day and year.

In more recent years I received a handsome note book blissfully free of dates. I vowed to keep a journal for the purpose of preserving the art of handwriting and recording family history. Released from the obligation of daily jotting I would devote several pages to important events and places and people visited. I haven’t yet recorded Christmas.

But I am onto the third gift journal. Each entry begins with a few neat sentences but quickly deteriorates into a cramped scrawl, especially if I am lounging with my feet up on the sofa. I imagine the diarists of old would need to sit upright at their bureaus to be able to handle their quill and ink.

In the unlikely event of me becoming a famous author posthumously, will my family be tempted to burn these diaries and journals to protect my reputation? If they bother to look at them they will find no scandal (there is none to help in the fame stakes), no salacious details of non writing activities at home. Hopefully my jottings will be a unique personal account of everyday life in the early years of the Twenty First Century.

And which will last longer, the paper books or this Blog? When I needed to look up a previous Goodreads blog about the River Thames I typed in ‘Janet Gogerty Sandscript River Thames’ and up it came, from over three years ago; will it be there forever? Will our WordPress Blogs  float through the ether into eternity or only until the internet is switched off?

Like radio waves going on forever into space will the billions of words on the internet still be out there somewhere when the whole infrastructure collapses and the electricity is switched off for good? Will our Facebook posts and e-mails be accessible to clever alien archaeologists or future earth scientists? If so then, Greetings from 2017 A.D.

Pens, Paper and Preparation

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Holiday preparation for an author? Packing notepads of various sizes and some pens is not enough. I have been busy working my way through reams of scribble for my current novel. I like writing in long hand first, but I can’t actually read my writing, hence the need to quickly transfer from microscrap paper and macrosoft brain to Microsoft Word. Then edit and put on several memory sticks in case a burglar steals my computer, or worse, the whole house blows up while we are away.

In the meantime there is work to do in the ether; refreshing my website so it looks as if I have visited it recently and am not dead, blogs to write…. just in case the various portable electronic gadgets we are taking with us do not connect to the internet. And where are we going? Find out in the next blog.