Mai Griffin

I spent much of today editing my entry as an author (and artist) on Amazon.com – that isn’t to suggest that I have altered it dramatically – but more that, in updating it, I noticed how much that was put up in the past has gradually drifted away. There is a theory that, whatever you put up on the internet stays there forever (and I am not technical enough to suggest that they are wrong), but I do know that the stuff that I put up there a few years ago – or even when each book was published – has gradually and systematically disintegrated into the ether. Links have withered, words have slithered guiltily into the stratosphere and now, presumably, only lurk in some hidden corner of the Dark Web.

It makes me realise how much I still have to learn about the workings of Amazon’s enormous website and how much I rely on my publisher to do the navigating!

I wouldn’t want anyone to suppose that I am philosophical about writing a blurb for the umptieth time that I only wrote last month …or was that five years ago? No, I am not currently modelling a stoic resignation to the ravages of time on a website. It is just that when you have spent 90 years tackling the ravages of time on your own memory, it is a bit annoying to have to remind an inanimate object of what it appears to have forgotten… What was that Alexa? Oh yes, pill time!