As we slide beneath the hegemony of technology, I’m impressed by the redefinition of vocabulary it demands. Because new printing technologies assume, for example, that the XML (one of the many mark-up languages) is primary, directional references in texts are inadequate. An example might help. If you’re a human being reading a book, and the author has discussed something a few pages ago, s/he might write “see above.” Now, it’s not literally above in the sense of being higher up on the same page (but it may be considered literally if the book is closed. And lying face up). The pages you already read are above those where you left the bookmark. I remember the first time I encountered this language; having been raised a literalist (and a naive realist) my eye hovered over the header and I wondered about the accuracy of “see above” or “see below.” The terminology soon became second nature, however, and I knew it wasn’t a literal reference.
In the days of XML (“eXtensible Markup Language,” therefore literally EML), the sense of play is now gone from writing. I’ve heard editors explain to authors that, in an ebook there is no above or below because there are no pages. A time-honored metaphor has been sacrificed on the altar of a tech that sees the world in black-and-white. You can’t point vaguely in the direction from which you’ve just come and say “it’s back there somewhere.” I sense, given all of this, that most copyeditors haven’t written a non-fiction book (for this is mostly an academic affectation). As a human being writing, you get into the flow and you don’t think, “Ah, I mentioned that in paragraph 2749; I’d better say it’s there.” And the reason you need to know the paragraph number is so the ebook can have a hyperlink. The argument itself suffers for XML precision.
As someone who writes both fiction and non, I am bound to look at this from the viewpoint of a human author. I’ve been known to paint and make sketches on occasion. All of these forms of expression have flow in common. At least when they’re good they do. If you want to stop a project cold, just say “Hey, I’m writing!” and watch yourself drop like a cartoon character who’s run off a cliff and just realized it. I’m sorry, I can’t point you to exact where that’s happened. It’s in many vague recollections of many cartoons I watched as a child. If the technomasters aren’t watching I’ll just say, “see above.”