As a writer I’m on-line more than I’m asleep. Heck, sometimes I use the internet while I’m asleep. My internet time is like dust particles in the air I breath. Without it there wouldn’t be any creative mucous buildup, and therefore nothing spectacular to blow out on the page.
I can’t imagine turning back the clock to a time where I’d have to travel far and wide, accessing specialized libraries, to find the minutia I need to make my fictional worlds pop with that certain air of better-than-real-reality. And I’m immensely grateful for the wonder of the world wide web.
But there is a dark side to being a Google-dependent writer. Namely, the FBI watch list.