As a writer, the power of the Interwebs is nearly limitless. One can become a fake expert in any manner of things in moments, ready to dazzle and amaze the gullible in mere moments. If I want to learn to grow radishes in the rocky soil of my yard, I can consult some well-mannered blog. If I want to create a photovoltaic battery out of a watermelon, I’ll find some geek out there smarter than me to show the way. If I want to debate the merits of Cartesian reality with my cats telepathically, there’s somebody out there who will help me connect an antenna to my tinfoil hat at just the right angle.
There are legitimate pursuits, too. As of this writing, I am hot on a short story idea which involves hyper-detailed World War I history, arcane Buddhist knowledge, and religious cults from the turn of the 19th century. I know, I know – it sounds exciting. But I can’t help it: the heat of inspiration is upon me.
Everything is a Google stroke away. War history – check. Cult knowledge – ubiquitous. And of course, there’s the inevitable Youtube video of a dude in a smoking jacket telling you how to will your own sentient creature into being, all while being careful not to turn it into a real-life B-horror movie.
Huzzah, Internet. You muse of muses. Literature owes you a million thanks.