I ignored my own cardinal rule
Ever since I bought this, my first word processor about 25 million years ago, I’ve always backed-up my work.
It was a cool little machine which I still have somewhere. Unfortunately the RAM is of the volatile kind, which is to say that if the batteries run out or you’re not fast enough with the mains plug, it’s all gone – forever. A real problem you fail to remember that the mains plug works on UK 240 volts while the French chalet in which you’re working has 120 volt power supply.
After losing an entire novel in this fashion I’ve always backed up everything, to the point that whenever I open the door of my writing room an avalanche of flash drives, 3½ & 5¼-inch floppies and old cassette tapes cascade about my head.
I was recently invited to write a story for a new anthology and for some unknown reason I didn’t back it up, so obviously I lost it.
After many hours I finally discovered some allegedly free recovery software that discovered the missing file but then informed that me that if I wanted it back I’d have to pay. Ten downloads later I found another program which allowed me to locate it but only after scanning (manually) 150,000 gibberish RTF files which the turned into a page of Klingon when i finally got it on the screen.
Much, much later it was back, and now I’ve decided that I’m not even going to use it.
Conclusion – I’m a complete plonker.