And... My heart stopped.

I'm not a fan of technology. Sure I love my laptop, and my (relatively easy, given I live in an island) access to internet. I love electricity, and downloading whole TV series otherwise unaccessible (I live in an island). I love downloading books, too, although e-readers, like a pragmatic lover, still leave me somewhat unsatisfied. I love my phone, and how easy it is to stay in touch with people: Whatsapp, Twitter, Facebook, G+.

But I hate how phones have come to rule our lives. I hate how people jump to them whenever a random piece of trivia comes up: "Who was President in 1964?" "What's the name of that singer that died in...?" "Oh, man, that movie with the guy with the big nose--no, not the French one."

Given the above, it feels contradictory--hypocritical--to admit the first thing I do as I wake up is check my phone. Email. Blogs. Facebook. As I brush my teeth, get into halfway decent clothes (i.e., no pajamas, but close) to go check on the dogs and make my tea. And as I'm doing this, as I'm scrolling through whatever email came in as I slept, whatever notifications Facebook sent me, I'm thinking about hypocrisy, about how it's become so urgent, this needing to know, and why I can't wait the ten minutes it would take to go boot up my computer and do this in a screen that doesn't require so much damn scrolling.

And then there's days like today. Actually, no. There's never been a day like today, but--
am I allowed?--I hope there are many, many more. A Facebook notification. So-and-so mentioned you in a post. I tap, screen loads. It's about the Pure Slush 2014 project I've been participating in.

"... a link to Stephen Ramey's blog where he intends to discuss each story on the day it is published." And then:

"SO GO THERE FOR A TASTE OF GUILIE CASTILLO ORIARD'S WORK."

My heart stopped.

Someone outside my circle of friends has read my story. AND has posted a review of it on their blog.

Is it a good review? Is it bad? Will my fragile, co-dependent, approval-seeking spirit be crushed forever?

Only one way to find out.

P.S. -- Thank you, Stephen.