I am become darkness, the destroyer of pixels. Once upon a time, I was, to whole forests of conifers, the thing that goes scritch, scribble, crumple and crunch in the night. Soybeans whisper my name to their children, in the dead of night, that they might heed – soak in the rain, absorb the morning sun, and and grow up to be tofu.
I am an author, and the resources I greedily consume are electricity, paper, and ink – all in relatively smallish quantities, mostly from renewable sources, and yet, I am glad that my drafts can now be readily composed on the PC, so that they need not end the lives of innocent trees and soybeans. I recycle paper and boxes, now, and use notebooks made of second-hand, mostly-post-consumer pulp. My books are printed in short runs or on demand, as sold, so that there is little waste. Less need for warehouses, more room for trees.
But they have made me a better writer.
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