This blog is a window on my world, and the past two weeks have been A: a never-ending stream of health care appointments; B: an epic case of Password Panic; and C: writing. I’m going to skip number one and go straight to number two.

A month or so a go while on Spring break, our grandson drove 200 miles round trip so he and his girlfriend could see a movie, The Hail Mail Project, on IMAX. When I learned the movie was based on a book by the same guy who wrote The Martian, a book and movie I loved, I paid attention. Then a week ago, a friend showed up to visit and gave Bill a paperback copy of the book. I watched him attempt to read it, but his tremors were so bad I’m surprised he didn’t get seasick.

For the past 40 years Bill, a retried Electronics Engineer, has been the tech genius in our family. I’m a Liberal Arts major. Whenever I’d have a problem with my computer and have it go south on me, I would be completely flummoxed. I’ve never quite recovered from the time my laptop filled up with a screen of skull and crossbones! At times like those, the first thing Bill would ask me is “What were you doing when that happened?” Usually I didn’t have any idea. And then, once he punched a few keys and magically fixed it, he’d turn to me and say that the solution was “dead simple.” I always told him that if I ever got around to writing a book about the murder of a double E, the title would be Dead Simple!

But after watching him struggle with the book, I thought to myself, “Why not buy it for his iPad?” So I went to Amazon on his iPad, found the book, and ordered same. I asked to read it instantly, and sure enough it showed up. But I failed to read the fine print. The problem is, he reads iPad books on his Kindle app, and the Amazon app doesn’t support Kindle. (Don’t ask me why.) I could see the book on his iPad, and Amazon said he owned it, but I couldn’t move it out of the shopping cart and into his library of books. When Bill tried reading it, if he touched anywhere on the screen—which happens a lot—the book would simply vanish. I could get it back eventually, but it took six iPad steps in Amazon which included by-passing the Italian version of the book each time. That happened over and over. Frustrating? You’d better believe it!

So then I had another brilliant idea. Why not get him an actual Kindle, something with a screen that wouldn’t go haywire if he happened to touch the screen? So I ordered one. It was small. It was lightweight. It looked good. So I tried turning it on. In the process of attempting to register it, I somehow passed the page that would have connected to his existing Kindle account and ended up on the page for creating a new one—WHICH I DID NOT WANT TO DO! Unfortunately there was no way for me to get back to the original page. Not only that, in the process, I somehow managed to disable Bill’s Amazon password. By then, I was two days into the process and tearing my hair out with frustration. Meanwhile, he STILL couldn’t read the book! Let’s just call my situation by then total melt-down mold.

Not long ago, when my workhorse MacBook Air needed a new battery, it went to a place called Jet City here in Bellevue and came back with my computer looking and running like new. So at the end of the second day of my Hail Mary dust-up, I called Jet City, explained the situation, and asked if they could help. Turns out they’re hardware guys rather than software guys, but they directed me to a place called Nerds on the Go. So I called there and was told they could help but there was a fifty-dollar charge just for making the appointment. I paid that with a happy heart.

The next day when I went there I was astonished to learn that their office is less than a mile from here. I arrived with my computer in hand along with Bill’s iPad and our brand new, non-working Kindle. Once inside a very nice young man named Josh spent half an hour going zip, zip, zip and fixed everything. He fixed the password issue. He got the Kindle up and working on the right account. He found the book I’d purchased on Amazon—the English version instead of Italian—and somehow transferred it to the now working Kindle. And just for good measure, I had him send Bill’s extensive collection of Kindle books to MY computer in case I ever have time to sit down and read again. Total cost? $169, appointment charge included. Money well spent! As for what did I learn from this case of Password Panic? Next time I’ll ask for help sooner!

So now I’m back to work on Joanna #22. No, the book still doesn’t have a name, but I’m thinking about it. But having just survived the copy-editor naming disaster for The Taken Ones, I’m trying to avoid using the same names over and over. To that end, I’m keeping the name file for the book and the book file itself, side by side on my computer screen, making it easy to go back and forth between them. The problem is, a number of people from previous books, are showing up in this one. I named one guy Walter which seemed harmless enough, but then another guy showed up—Walter McFadden from Joanna #1. At that point I renamed the guy James. Oops, turns out a number of pages later a bad guy named James Ardmore from Field of Bones also ended up making a cameo appearance. So I changed his name again. For the moment, his name is named Roger, and with any kind of luck, it’ll stay that way.

But what did I learn from this? The copyeditor was more right than wrong. Evidently some names seem to stick in my head, and if they’re good enough for one book, why not use them in all of them? So now I’m trying to check every name as I go along, not only in current books but in previous ones as well.

Now back to Nerds on the Go. I’m really grateful. They did a great job for me, but now they keep sending me messages asking me to post a review. The problem is, in order to do that, I’d have to find my Google Password. Nope. Not doing that. Instead, I’m writing this blog, because I really do recommend them highly.

That being said, I’m back to writing. Wish me luck.