Discovery Exercise #17 - web apps

I used Zoho writer to compose the beginning of a story. Then I posted it to my blog. I am also sending the story, through Zoho, to other staff members to add to the story.

Although this is a somewhat frivolous and fun use of Zoho writer, I can easily see the application of using a web-based word processing program to collaborate on other types of writing.

Here's the story:

It was a typical November evening in West Chester. A light drizzle had been falling since dusk, and the lights of the houses on North Church Street were reflected, like illuminated mosacis, in the irregular brick sidewalks.

It was my turn to empty the bookdrop, one of the dreaded library duties that goes along with the glamour of being a library goddess. Since the library is closed on Sundays -- and Sunday is apparently the day most people remember their library books are due -- the book drop is usually stuffed to overflowing by five o'clock.

I turned my key in the lock hard right and then back to the left, punched off the alarm, and slammed the door behind me. I got the lights switched on and started up the circ computer as quickly as possible, to dispell the lurking quiet. Then it was out the other door, empty book cart in tow, rumbling across the courtyard.

Before I even got to the lift that takes the book cart down to street level, I could see a large cardboard box next to the book return. "Great," I thought, "someone cleaned house and has given us a 'gift' of their outdated, musty textbooks." Just my luck, I'll have to drag the box inside, too, so we can just throw the books in the trash tomorrow.

I never thought of books as trash until I started working at the library, but now I know the dirty truth. Books have a very limited shelf life, and it is our job to keep the shelves current. We are not a museum, I have to remind myself, everytime I cull forgotten books from the stacks. Most donated books we are able to use, or redonate to other worthy causes, but outdated textbooks are nothing to us but extra weight in our trash cans.

The lift stopped abruptly at street level, and I pulled the empty book cart behind me, making an angry storm of noise as it went over the bricks donated by our most faithful patrons. In the mornings, I like to look down and read the dedications on the bricks while I perform this routine library task, but at night I want to get the job done, and besides, it's impossible to make out the words with only the light that spills out through the library's stained glass windows.

As I approached the book drop, I saw that the cardboard box had been placed there some time ago, and the whole thing was soggy. Even if it contained rare manuscripts -- every library director's fantasy -- they would be ruined and worthless by now. And, I wouldn't be able to just lift the box and carry it inside. I'd have to empty the box first, then throw the useless, limp cardboard carcass in the recycling pile.

I paused, let go of the book cart, and stepped toward the box. I pulled up the first flap and immediately could see this was not a book donation ...