I walked outside my workplace this morning, around 10 am. I wanted to know if the old key I had would unlock box the bases are in at the baseball diamond we have beside our football field. We start our exhibition games next week. It was a beautiful spring day, with the temperature in the teens. (Celsius) As it has been a long and especially cloudy winter, the sun and the fresh breeze were welcome. It suddenly made me aware that I would like my freedom. I have been working part time and going to school or full time (and going to school) since I was 14. I have been a dad, teacher and coach for thirty years. They say, if you are lucky enough to have the option, that you will know when you are ready. Today it felt like I was ready. Strangely, I have always dreaded leaving the job. And I avoid retirement parties. I never count the days or yearn for weekends. This is a different feeling.
I think I would like to try to make a living as a writer. I know, I know. Very few writers make any money, at all. But I have a solid pension and it wouldn't have to be too much. I'm getting better at it and content doesn't seem to be an issue. I'll be 57 this year. I don't need to retire right now. Or even next year. But, I think, I want my freedom.
A paragraph from my new novel in the editing process:
Myra was a vicious fighter. As a leader she was decisive and abrupt. She certainly didn’t give any inspiring speeches. The men she led seemed to respect her and Conor noted little grumbling outside of the normal soldier’s complaints. But their job was simple and the whirlwind rise of the Bonded had left the people of the south in a state of shock. Over time Conor came to believe that the ex-Bonded were just extreme versions of the troops he fought with. They didn’t defy her orders or even think for themselves because they could not believe or accept what had happened to their lives. The Bonded had lost the Believer and the others had lost their homes and families. Their world had been turned completely upside down. The fighting between the groups was sharp and desperate. And after the blood had cooled, Conor believed there was the sense in the troop that this war would go on for ever.
Have a good week!