Those following know I’ve been traveling this week. Behind in Camp challenge on the novel, barely keeping up with the blog challenge. Excuse me if these thoughts seem more rambling than others.



Traveling, like writing and life, requires a goal or destination. In the old days, I would read the road map and my husband would follow my directions and swear a lot when we took a wrong turn.

Now we use the GPS. I type in the address, and he swears and argues with the onboard navigator. We’ve changed her voice a couple of times, but neither of us like her. She is far from perfect, this glorious, prescient seer. For one thing, road construction doesn’t seem to be updated for her in real time, so we end up rerouting a lot. She is very inflexible and strident – demanding that we turn around and go the way she says, even when she’s wrong.

Today we were in a more familiar part of town and got off onto a different road to avoid the construction ahead. She had a hissy fit, telling us first to turn at the next right, and when we didn’t, demanding we take the next left. Of course her goal was to get us to turn around and get onto the clogged, impassable road we’d abandoned.  She is the same way if we pull off the highway for a food or bathroom break. She scolds when we exit and starts in again on us when we come back to the car. Someone needs to add a way to input “stopping for a minute,” so she won’t get so peeved.

Why not turn her off?  No other map. Not sure we could find a roadmap in the house, keep none in the car anymore. If we did, it would probably be as out of date as the one above. We only use her when we are unsure where we are going. Honestly, now that we’ve mastered the machine, we would miss the company. Sometimes when you are in a strange place, it is comforting to have a familiar voice telling you  when and where to turn, like she knows the way home and will get you there safe.

Mainly, I prefer having him cuss the machine instead of me.

Sometimes I wish there were a GPS for writing.




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