WHAT’S JUST BEYOND MY REACH
My history/development/journey as a writer has been well documented in the pages of this blog. At times, reading those posts and contemplating the stories seem as though they are about someone else. The thing I consider most is who and what I am today. Then again, this forum becomes a platform for my current works: latest books being published; podcast episodes; adventures with other writers.
What I haven’t discussed or perhaps even contemplated is what exists just beyond my reach of this moment in time. I plan to retire a little over three years from now. This is the time when I will give up full-time employment and turn my attention toward….
Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? I realize there are some folks who have no notion of what they would do in retirement. Still others enjoy their job/work so much they couldn’t think of the idea of giving it up. I have a whole slew of ideas from part-time work in something more suitable to my temperament. (While being in customer service has fueled my crime fiction, it has also been spiritually draining.) I can think of several places to volunteer that would be fulfilling. Of course, there will be writing and perhaps an expansion of what I am doing now.
The one thing I have at this moment is a schedule, a routine. That which guides you tends to bind you. And vice versa. Whether I like this routine, enjoy it, or find value in it is irrelevant. It exists. It has created parameters for the better part of my adult life. When one retires in their sixties, for example, they have considerably less time to form new habits. I imagine running amok, willy-nilly, an almost frantic daze overwhelming me.
Perhaps writing will be the thing that provides focus. Certainly, I would continue on with my current series. Perhaps a new genre or new series will come to mind. Exploration on theatrical pieces. Re-establishing a connection with poetry. Anything associated with the written word is not going to be out of the question.
There’s also the idea of “radio dramas” which could see their way into the current podcast. Or a new one. Maybe a salon-type group, akin to something from the Bohemian 20s. Might I even return to film-making?
Two primary images come to mind. I’m either one of the kids who was invited to Willy Wonka’s factory and am overwhelmed by everything there is to see and do. Or, I’m the captain of the Poseidon just as the tidal wave comes crashing through the bridge.
Certainly, you can plan, make arrangements, have ideas and thoughts and notions. But until you get there, to that very moment in time, when everyone at work wishes you well, says goodbye, and you log off for your last time, there is no real way to know what lies beyond.
I’d like to write that story for myself. I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.
