It's dusk on the east side of Snoqualmie Pass, and my little group,
unfamiliar with this side of the Cascade Mountains, is trying to find a place
for a stargazing picnic. We pulled off Interstate 90 and discovered that our
chosen spot required a Discover trail pass after sunset, something that we
forgot about in our spontaneity. One of our number pokes at his phone. The
screen casts a night light glow inside the care while he calls out navigation
to the driver. He has Google Maps up, and has found a tiny neighborhood park
nearby. We get a chance to eat our sandwiches by starlight after all.
Contrast this to the more recent night of a friend's birthday party. Again,
my group is in an unfamiliar neighborhood, but this one is in the urban
wilderness. It is, in fact, in a part of the city that the birthday girl warned
us was the "Bothell Triangle," a GPS thwarting conjunction of
overlapping city borders not unlike the Bermuda Triangle. We're on foot, trying
to find the party house that is supposed to be a short walk away from the Park
and Ride. However, this time the maps app is failing us utterly. We end up
calling for help, and the host and hostess come to pick us up. Later, I find
out that another guest tried for half an hour to find the house, but her car's navigation
system sent her elsewhere.
In the not-so-distant past, I carried a Thomas Guide map book in my car, at
least ever since getting lost in the neighborhoods of Los Angeles and finding
myself in Echo Park at midnight (not a great combination for a very young woman
alone in her car, circa 1992). Before my acquisition of a smart phone, I
planned ahead and wrote down directions. Along the same lines, I remember when
people were more patient to wait for someone who was late, in the times before
cellular phones.
I like to write about how ordinary people use technology. Whether it's
clockwork and steam engines or smart phones or cryosleep chambers, my
characters are shaped by the technologies of their worlds. Much of the time,
ordinary people -- especially urban denizens -- don't have a whole lot of
choice about using tech. In a race to offer consumers the most to purchase,
industry pushes the newest technology and packages it through marketing as
essential to... life, happiness, and everything.
Technology is perceived as a male dominated industry, but around me I see
that everyone uses tech. Computers are common in city workplaces and
households. In Seattle, it can look like everyone not only has a mobile phone
but a smart phone, there is an assumption of internet access and usage, and
fewer than six degrees separate any one person from someone earning her daily
bread in a technology job. According to a recent article in Forbes, the Seattle
area is top ranked in the country for technology jobs. In my every day I see
women using technology along the entire spectrum. I know women who have their
own servers, and I know women whose highest tech usage is listening to music on
a portable mp3 player.
It's fascinating to me to see how some people embrace technology, and
whether they do it because it excites them (geeks, pretty much anything) or
because it keeps them at the top of a particular social class (hipsters, first
to have iPhones). Then there are others who accept tech consciously, often
grudgingly, and those who accept tech without thinking much about it. Those who grew up in the age of computers are
probably easier about accepting the latest gadget than those of us who remember
ditto purple.
A simple truth of technology is that embodies change. In the context of an
individual, that place of change is the dynamic of story.
The funny thing is, technology and how it affects a person is always more
interesting when it breaks. (Just imagine if one of James Bond's secret weapons
didn't work. What would 007 do?) Since it is supposed to make our lives easier,
it is designed to make us dependent on it. I think we can all relate to that
moment where something in the background becomes the focus of our attention
because of the obstruction it has become.
I've been in many an office setting where the copier breaks, taking our
fax with it, and workday gridlock ensues. I've experienced text messaging fail
often enough to create protocols for that method of communication. How often
has an empty printer cartridge, dead battery, or burned out light bulb been
an obstacle to things running smoothly?
Maybe it's the poor tailor who is first to get a sewing machine, or the
wounded space pirate with the outdated robotic leg. Maybe it's the child who is
replicated, or the thief who is caught because of a phone, or an engineer whose
field of work becomes banned. Any of these are characters whose stories I will
want to tell.
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