Barbara J. Hamby

Mortality

As another year comes to an end, I wonder how many more year-ends I will see. A blogger who is also a writer and teacher, whose ramblings I often read, marvels often that he is still alive. He tells how he abused his body for many years, and has survived most of his friends—to his surprise. He is ten or fifteen years younger than I, as birthdays go.

I, too, have survived many of my friends. I miss them and wonder why they left, many at ages much younger than mine. Some seemed to take very good care of their bodies but, for whatever reasons, those bodies betrayed them.

With all that in mind, I’m working away at my life stories. It seems important to put them down whether anyone ever reads them or not. My genealogy aficionado sister may appreciate my efforts, at any rate. This afternoon I got some help from my writing critique partner and now I’m ready to start moving paragraphs around again. Recently I’ve been weaving stories together in semi-chronological order, a crazy-making task.

There are more stories to write, as well. When I get the era I’m working on put together, I’ll take a break and start to fill some of the blanks with new chapters.

Meanwhile, I’m motivated to keep getting up every morning, get my exercise and eat carefully so I can finish this project.

If I decide to publish the work, Booklocker.com gives a discount to returning authors. They set up my book, Find Romance in Later Life, so that it can be ordered directly from them, or from Amazon.com, or other booksellers, on demand. No books are pre-printed, so there is no waste.

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