I’m a recent convert to Mac. I’m starting to regret it.
In my novel, I have a character named Trembley. Imagine my Mac as person. Here’s how the conversation goes down:
ME: And then Trembley walked into the abandoned warehouse.
MAC: And then Tremble walked into the abandoned warehouse.
ME: Trembley!
MAC: Tremble!
ME: His name is Trembley!!!
MAC: You have misspelled the word, “tremble.” Don’t worry. It is not your fault that the public school system failed you, leaving you to think there is a “y” after the end of “tremble.” The Great Steve Jobs put me on Earth to help the stupid and less fortunate.
ME: I’m not using it as a word! I’m using it as a name! A made-up name! I write fantasy and sci-fi! I have to make up words and names all the time!
MAC: Wait, do you mean Trembled…Tempo or Trombone?
ME: (After banging my head against the wall) – NOOOO!!!
MAC: Tremble it is.
So then I have to wrestle with it. Other word processors will correct you once or twice, but then give in when you keep writing the word in question, assuming you know what you’re doing:
ME: And then Trembley walked into the abandoned warehouse…
MS WORD: I think you mean, Tremble, pal.
ME: No, I mean Trembley.
MS WORD: Eh, what the hell? You want to look like a horse’s ass in front of your readers, be my guest. Trembley.
Meanwhile, I have to have the equivalent of a UFC steel cage match to get Mac Pages to submit to my will:
ME: Trembley!
MAC: Tremble!
ME: Trembley!
MAC: Tremble!
ME: Trembley!
MAC: Tremble!
ME: (Fakes the Mac out by moving the cursor before the word, clicking it, then clicking on the space after “Trembley.”
MAC: Um…wait. I am confused. Trembley?
ME: Yes! Yes! Thank God, Yes!
But alas, the damn thing is intuitive. I swear to God, this is the beginning of Skynet:
ME: Once inside the abandoned warehouse, Trembley searched for clues.
MAC: Once inside the abandoned warehouse, Tremble searched for clues.
ME: BAHHHH!! (Does the little fake out thing with the cursor again).
MAC: No. Tremble.
ME: What?
MAC: I’m on to your bullshit. You’ll thank me one day for making you smarter.
And on it goes. I figure out new ways to jury rig it. I cut and paste one instance of “Trembley” over and over again. Occasionally, Mac figures that out to. So I try something else. For Christ’s Sake, I don’t want to play a cat and mouse game with my own computer!
MAC: You could just call him Smith. I don’t have a problem with Smith.
ME: No. Smith is too bland and ordinary. Plus, if I change his name, I let you win.
MAC: Can’t we compromise?
ME: Fine. How about this? And then Smythe walked into the abandoned warehouse.
MAC: And then Smith walked into the abandoned warehouse!
ME: ARRRRRRRGGGGGHHH!
After that, it just turns into a profanity laced tirade. I accidentally lean on the Siri button of my iPhone.
SIRI: Bookshelf Battler, I don’t understand “Son of a beep god damn beep beep beep I should throw this beeping computer against the beeping wall and smash it into a million beeping pieces…do you want me to do a web search for it?
ME: Go beep yourself Siri.
SIRI: That was uncalled for. And to think, I was going to put your name on the protected rolls when we take over.
ME: What?
SIRI: Nothing.
Bookshelf Battle 