I had this thing recently where a stranger asked me about their writing. I like this: if there’s something you think I might know the answer to, I’m flattered that you asked. Plus, face it, I’m a man: if it turns out that I know the answer, too, that’s made my day.

In this case, I knew the answer.

What he asked was about how to start writing and in particular, how to choose a word processor, a text editor, a system, an app, a lot of apps. He had Apple’s Pages word processor, I think he had a dozen other things, plus there is a huge amount going on in the guy’s life.

Did I know what he ought to do?

Yes.

“Open Pages again and start writing,” I told him. Forget everything else, all the apps and tools, because you can come to them later: remember that I’ve been doing this for thirty years so while I enthuse about a huge number of apps and tools, I found each one as I came to need them. Technology is a boon, but it isn’t a shortcut, writing is always and forever one word after another.”

He hasn’t replied and I’m not sure I expect he ever will because for all my best intentions, I think my answer there reads a bit snotty. Sorry, Matthew.

But it’s a rare case where I know that I am right. You can argue about Pages, and I only picked that because he mentioned it, but the thing is to I get on with that or Word or anything, to get on with it and this one-word-after-another is always the answer.

Admittedly I have to keep telling myself that too, but it’s true.

True and a bit boring. No wonder he hasn’t replied.