The past – so floppy and unsubstantial



As part of that essential decluttering I had planned, I turned up a box full of old floppy discs. I hadn’t actually forgotten about them, but they haven’t crossed my mind for several years. As an archive, they are not very satisfying; I don’t think we have a device in the house that will actually run them, so their contents are locked away. Plus, I know that they only contain early versions of work that is either saved elsewhere or has been edited and rewritten, nothing lost or forgotten. If I were able to read any of it, I would probably cringe over the quality And yet they represent such productive period of my writing that I am struggling to get rid of them along with the rest of the clutter. After all, I still have all the old notebooks that I also used for writing, and I wouldn’t dream of throwing them away. And at the time, these discs were really important to me. The labelling hints at that – multiple back-ups, chapter lists, dates. After all the years of handwritten or typed work, I loved writing on a computer, but I was paranoid about losing work. Writing on a computer was so much more productive than handwritten work, but at the same time, it had the potential for bigger losses, either by human error, or the dreaded loss of a computer by theft or fire. I once even gave my fiancée a back-up disc to keep at his house in case of the worst case scenario! I am much more relaxed about it these days – or should that be complacent? All my work is now stored in the virtual cloud, available through multiple devices, and some of it openly accessible on the internet, thanks to KDP and this website. But how safe is that? There are still worst case scenarios that could extinguish all my words that are so terrifying that I don’t like to think about them. (Have you read The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell? He writes a vision of the future that is both nightmarish and believable.) All I will have left then are the notebooks and the few hard copies I ever printed out. The Most Beloved Boy has never been printed out ever; it could disappear completely, only existing in my head. But I suppose that will be the least of my problems if that ever happens. And the floppy discs will still be useless. All the same, I don’t think I will bin them yet. Maybe they can go back into the loft for another ten years.

Published by mjschofieldauthor

Writer, story teller, author, novelist, wordsmith - the only thing I cannot imagine is not writing.

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