Joining the Cult of Mac

I joined a cult last week. No, really, I did. Though I don’t wear special underwear or drink strange Kool-Aid, I do believe, yes, truly, that I have joined a cult.

I was reading Write. Publish. Repeat. which I had purchased along with David Gaughrahn’s Let’s Get Visible and both of those books mentioned something called Scrivener.

Well, sometimes I’m a sloppy reader, so I thought they were saying Scribid. Every time I went and checked Scribid, I would nod and go, yep, my book is up there, so I can check that off my list.

Finally, after seeing the term Scrivener in Write. Publish. Repeat. about a zillion times, I realized the word was spelled entirely different than Scribid. When I went to check it out, I discovered that it’s some type of writing software that will help you organize your next project, be it a novel or a book of poems.

Well, fooey, I don’t need that! I’ve got Word! I used to have Word Perfect, but my sister bought me a license for Word, so I have been using that. It works fine, even though I’m not in love with it. I type in the words, and make up stuff, and organize my thoughts on 3 X 5 cards. I’m hooked on those, and carry a huge pack in my purse at all times.

As you may or may not know, I’m writing a sequel to Fagin’s Boy, and it’s giving me fits. The sequel is giving me so many fits, that I write in fits and starts, and nothing gets done. I keep changing my mind, forgetting my focus. I had 3 X 5’s plastered all over my wall for Fagin’s Boy, and quite ruined the paint. In a good cause, of course, but I felt exhausted at the thought of trying to plaster the wall again, trying to keep those cards in order, moving them around…so I’ve not been working on the sequel. Like, at all. And since my goal is to make a living writing books, this is a very bad thing. As mentioned in Write. Publish. Repeat. and so many other fine marketing books, the best type of marketing an indie can do for herself is write more books.

Back to Scrivener. I went and checked it out on a website called Literature and Latte. Right away, I’m on board, because coffee and writing, in my mind, go hand in hand.

Then I watched their introductory video, which gives a quick overview of the product and how it can help writers. And wouldn’t you know, the interface includes the ability to create digital 3 X 5 cards that you can move around at will. At will! Without ruining the paint! (The background looks like a corkboard; I’m so in love!)

I thoroughly determined that Scrivener was the answer to all of my problems. But, being me, I did my research first, before I paid out so much as a thin, silvery dime.

And if you know me at all, you know that means I stymied my first impulse to rush out and buy the software, and then went and read every online article about Scrivener that I could get my hands on. The software is only around $45, and it seemed so handy, so perfect for me, that I went to bed each night thinking of how I would use it, how I would use those digital 3 x 5 cards and write up those little scenes that came to me at odd moments, and how I would then, (Gasp!) put them in the story where they fit best.

Have you ever gone to sleep dreaming about how you were going to use software? Well, I never had. My mind was on fire about my story in a way that it had not ever been. I was all ready to buy that software and use it and write the best, most intricate stories!

There was only one snag.

Scrivener was developed for Mac. (You can see where this is going, can’t you.)

Further research showed me that while Scrivener was further developed for PCs, the interface was not half as cool as that for Mac. Writers waxed poetic about Scrivener and further, that they bought a Mac just for writing, based on this software. And I don’t mean one or two writers, I’m talking almost a hundred writers.

So then I went to the Mac store to check it all out, at the very least. I had been warned that I walked inside the store, I would come in contact with the fairy dust that employees sprinkle across the threshold. At which point, the world would become a magical place, and I would be carried off in a cloud of enchantment and delight.

I was scooped up by a young man named Daniel, who had never heard of Scrivener, but who was willing to let me go on about it. We looked at the prices of the iMac, and of the Mac Book, and the Mac Air and the Mac This and the Mac That. My head was spinning. I did a little bitching about the keyboard, which to my eyes, didn’t look as though it was designed for extensive writing sessions. I bitched about the price. I wanted to know about hyper threads and RAM extensions. I asked about reliability and longevity. Then I bitched about the keyboard again.

Daniel asked me what I used at home, and when I mentioned that I used a wireless mouse and keyboard, he said, “Well, you should use what makes you comfortable. Why don’t I show you the Mac Mini?”

And show me he did. The thing is about as big as a pie, and about half the cost of an iMac, and sexy and sleek.

Basically it’s the Mac, but without the screen. I was sold then and there, but to my credit, I determined that I would go home and look at whether my screen was compatible with the Mac Mini, that is, whether it had an HDMI cable. And it was. So I went back to the store, giving myself a stern talking to about how buying this thing would mean that I couldn’t take that road trip I’d promised myself. The budget will only stretch so far, right?

When I went back Daniel was sadly gone, and I met a nice young man who was very concerned about my ability to really enjoy the Mac without the “integrated screen.” There would be more power, more capacity, the Mac Mini could only do so much!

I longed for Daniel, but held my ground, and insisted that the iMac was over my budget, which it was. The young-man-who-was-not-Daniel capitulated when he realized he was dealing with a mature adult who could not be swayed by his upsale tactics!

But I was part of the cult anyway, and had already drunk the Kool-aid. He knew that, and I probably should have. I was a goner the second I crossed that fairy-dusted threshold.

So I took my Mac Mini home. It took me about five minutes to set it up; it would have taken me four minutes, but it took me about 30 seconds to realize that the wireless keyboard had a battery that was about a year old. It then took me 30 seconds to replace said battery, and then I was up and running. Seriously, running. I was completely shocked at how easy it was to install a piece of software (you drag the icon into the Application folder, and voila!), and at how fast the damn thing was. How tiny. How silent.

Then I purchased and downloaded Scrivener. But that’s a story for another time.

Here’s a picture of me in my special cultish baptism gown, being bathed in the waters of the Mac Mini.