My desk

In 2011, an unexpected snowstorm in October knocked out power to much of Connecticut, including my home. Because the temperatures were barely below freezing, the snow was heavy and wet, taking down wires and branches across the state. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before the roads were clear so that those of us without power could drive to places that had luxuries like electricity and the ability to flush.

During the week when my house was without power, I routinely packed up my laptop and files each day and worked in the library at the law school. At the end of the workday, though, I returned to a cold, dark house. My fireplace threw very little heat, which meant that I spent my evenings wrapped in sweaters and blankets as I read Jane Austen by candlelight, which seemed fitting.

About midway through the week, I finished Sense and Sensibility. I wanted to write, but I was reluctant to use up my laptop’s battery just in case I was unable to get to the library the next day. Then the realization dawned: Jane Austen hadn’t had a laptop. All she had was a pen and paper and candlelight—and she’d managed to write Sense and Sensibility that way.

If she could do it, so could I.

And so I picked up a story I’d been struggling with, and I wrote the rest of it by hand while the cats slept in front of the inadequate fire.

Sometimes, I can write with nearly anything. Other times, I feel as if I must have precisely the right equipment in order to do what I need to do.

Tonight was one of those other times.

Most of the time, I write on my Surface. Its portability lets me take it out on the porch or settle into a recliner. Its one drawback, though, is that the screen isn’t very big. Especially if I need to have two windows open, reading the half-sized type is just enough extra work to be frustrating.

Several weeks ago, a member of my Buy Nothing group wanted to get rid of a reliable older-model monitor, and I was the lucky recipient. (If there’s anything better than reliable equipment, it’s free reliable equipment.) Even though I’m not technologically gifted, I was able to figure out how to connect it to my also-older-model desktop computer. Having two monitors has been a godsend, especially when my work requires me to consult a transcript while writing a brief, because I can have each open to full-size on separate monitors.

After last night’s writing session when I realized I needed to update the book’s timeline chart, it occurred to me that my two monitors were the answer to my problem. So even though I rarely return to the office after dinner—a boundary-setting practice I put in place long ago—tonight I opened Draft #3 on one monitor while on the other, I opened two documents—the timeline and a chart of what chapter starts on what page. (In addition to making navigation easier, the latter helps me to see when a chapter is disproportionately long or short.)

And so, with large, easy-to-read type, I charted out the first half of the book in about an hour.

I don’t know how Jane Austen kept track of chronology (or characters or story lines) as she handwrote a massive work like Mansfield Park in a chilly house in the English countryside. I imagine most people would agree that her talent dwarfs mine in pretty much every respect, so maybe that’s the explanation. All I know is that the romance of writing an entire book by hand in front of the fire is—at least for me—highly overrated. But give me a reliable computer and two good-sized monitors, and I can do a pretty decent evaluation of a manuscript that might be in better shape than I thought.