Amanda Brookfield

I love my desktop computer. (I am typing at it now, so very happily, click click click). It has facilitated the birth of three novels and a memoir. It has a wide screen and a sleek shiny look as good as the day I bought it. Indeed, I still think of it as 'new'. The sad truth is that it is eight years old, which would not matter at all had I not recently started receiving messages from Sony, kindly reminding me that they no longer make this line of products and will soon - very soon - stop offering updates and software support. My reaction to this is.................aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

I do not want a new computer. It does not excite me to have to browse for a suitable replacement, with the prospect of getting used to a different machine. I like what I have. I understand it. It looks beautiful! In addition to which there is a tinge of a jinxy worry that maybe the new machine I shall soon be forced to invest in will not prove so lucky, so conducive to the channelling of my ever-fickle creative muse. (Note to superstitious self: this is NONSENSE and must be resisted to prove own sanity).

I know I am not alone, not just in being ever so slightly superstitious as a writer (the little routines that have to be performed before work can start, the favourite mug that magically boosts creativity), but also in being resistant to change. We humans get stuck in our ways. We do not like disruption or having to learn new methods. We fear the unknown. We want the option and the power to keep things the SAME.

Never has this resistance of ours been more challenged than in our current galloping digital age. Failure to update a phone for too long and it ceases to function properly. No access to online banking and some bills are impossible to pay. If you don't change your passwords from time to time you are vulnerable to cloning and viral attack. And if you stick with a computer that has no software back-up you will run into serious trouble - possibly even losing valuable data, not to mention work-in-progress - and so best to cave in now, while there is still time to find a decent replacement.

For similar reasons my wonderful website designer and assistant gently pointed out a few months ago that my website was a tad 'old-fashioned' and that a revised platform could allow phone visitors to explore the site without getting dizzy from copy and images floating all over the screen because the pages are designed solely for a bigger viewing portal...

Reader, I did not say aaaaagh. I listened and I agreed. All of which is to say, welcome to my new-look official website, going live this week. I hope you like it as much as I do.