What the Future Holds?

I attended Author Rama at Martha Merrell's Books and Cuddles yesterday. Didn't sell a single book. That is to be expected when you pack a bunch of authors in a small space and what would be potential customers get wide eyed like they are looking at a mass gathering of insurance salesmen.
The highlight of the day for me was four young ( oh so very young) girls stopped at my table and told me they loved to write stories.
With the ability to create art with a mouse instead of the touch of an artist's hand to brush. Photos being developed inside a laptop by trial and error rather than within the mind and discerning eye of a photographer, I have developed a fear.
A fear that writing as we know it now might evolve into a series of menu selections on a purchased software package, stored on the clouds. A distillation of all the books that have already been written.
Some might say, what would you have us do Allan, go back to the ink pot and quill? Shall we give up auto-correction and look for an upright Royal with a two color ribbon.
Not in the least. I too prefer my delete key to a bottle of prematurely hardened white out.
The fear is that someday we will run out of little girls who pull the lollipop from the corner of their mouth to answer the question. "What do you write?"
"Oh just one of the stories that are always in my head."
No I didn't sell a single book, but I may have met the next Harper Lee or perhaps four future best sellers at one time.