Sigh...
I've been working on a book for about six months...
Yesterday I announced at dinner time to the family that it was done. A few more tweaks and I'd call the publisher and my cousin to let him know I had finished.
Today I opened a one page document to play with some text... when *click* instant loss of power. My little one year old boy had discovered the power-strip's off switch. My bad... I moved my writing computer a few days ago, and didn't straighten out all that crap wiring, which was just laying out on the floor for him to find.
Oh well, one page lost... what ever... so I scoop him up and get him ready for bed and tuck him in.
Back to the computer... which on power-up says it recovered my document for me... what would I like to name it. Well, I was working on my book, so the filename for the book I was writing of course, then [return].
NO WAIT! I shouldn't do that, in case the recovered file is no good. OMG, too late, its done.
Quick, open the file, make sure its a good copy...
WTF is this!?! Its the one page document I was dicking around with... it's not even the full book file?!? OH MY GOD!
Wait! Thankfully, my computer automatically saves back-ups to the publisher periodically, I'll get a recovered version, might have lost a few days work at most... so I go to open the back-up application... and... it doesn't exist.
NO!
My old writing computer was configured to make regular back-ups automatically to the publisher... but that one got stolen a few years ago when our house was robbed... and not until today did I think about that. I hadn't written anything in a few years, so no one else was paying attention to it either.
It's a done deal. Lost the whole thing. Six months of work.
Gatinha cried when I told her. I'm just numb. Depressed numb. Writing is a side-thing, so it's not the end of the world, but it is a big kick in the balls. FUCK is all I have to say. I'm sure the data is there, in the right hands, it can be recovered, I'm sure. Will look into it tomorrow. Bed.
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