The Undisciplined Writer’s Dream

My childhood memories are sepia toned: I climbed trees with the boys, downed pixie sticks with birch beer, and wore ridiculous pink high-heeled pumps with my pajamas.  While I still like to pair heels with flannel, I’ve pretty much accepted that I’m getting smarter. 

That was until I read Dave Caolo’s post, “Setting Up a Writing Mac.”  He advises dragging that old computer out from the basement and actually using it again – for writing only.  No web browser for convenient procrastination or iTunes for those distracting dance parties (exactly what I did for the last hour instead of writing this post). 

My first electronic love was a prehistoric typewriter that hummed like a mosquito when I plugged it in.  I would type away for hours, pretending to be famous and pumping out the most pathetic plots possible.  When I moved to Jersey, I graduated to the Mac, biking over to the public library if I needed the Internet or printer.  The computer was bigger than the desk it was on, but it served a purpose, and I still have some of the stories I drafted on that desktop.

What do you think about recycling an old computer?  Would your writing benefit from less distractions?