I’m turning 55 soon. I can join AARP. Starting over at 55 is an unsettling prospect but I am finding new ways to live, think and write.
Not too long ago, someone came into my life who provided (and continues to provide) incredible enthusiasm for my future, and has pitched all sorts of great ideas to help me make a living. I am grateful. I think everyone needs someone like this in their corner.
I have a decision looming on whether to cut 10,000 words out of the new book. I await advice. That cut would amount to a fifth of the book, and it contains the most original writing of my life. But…it may have to go and find a home elsewhere.
I had a choice the other day of reading a 150-page Western published 70 years ago or a 1000-word novel written by one of America’s most renowned contemporary novelists. I chose the former and think I am leaning toward becoming a Western-type writer once the Bonnie and Clyde and OTA books come out.
All my life I’ve been the one to make things happen for myself. I have almost lost all of that ability. I have had to learn patience in collaborating with others and it has been a good lesson and made me a better teacher and writer and friend.
A former student sent me a track from his solo album in progress. I loved it. I loved its crassness and its word play. I loved the little finger run on the guitar during the verses. I loved the dead pans and reference to Astoria. I miss the musical side of teaching high school more than the literary one, if that makes any sense. There was a lot of music the last 20 years of my career in the classroom. And really, if I am honest, music is no longer part of my life
I barely follow politics anymore, although a new friend is an ardent Trump supporter and that mystifies me, but I think also reveals the attraction of Trump for so many people. I seek to learn more from this new friend although he refuses talk about his support. Dead refuses. I’m not sure he really knows why.
I have a writing workshop coming up that I am excited to teach. Five new writers I’ve never worked with are attending. That’s always invigorating.
Soon, I will approach a local prison and see if they would be interested in having me form a writing group.
Someone stole a crab buoy from one of my forts. I had found it after a storm and hung it as a sort of chandelier. Yesterday, on my visit, I noticed it was gone. That’s never happened before. Things get washed away and scattered, but I can’t recall a time someone has ripped anything off from a fort. I guess they just saw the buoy and had to have it for their home. I’m not angry, just curious. I wonder what I would have said to the person if I had seen him or her cutting it free.
Time for a walk down the beach and see what 20 or so inches of rain the past week has done to it. Rain always wins.