The Joys of Getting Older

I remember an incident from when I was a kid--preteens maybe. Somebody mentioned how we were approaching a new millennium in a few decades. They talked about how it was going to be a big event. I distinctly recall doing the math in my head and realizing that I was going to be in my late thirties and much too old to really enjoy the festivities. It didn't occur to me that my young, energetic parents were older than that already.

In a little less than a month, I'll turn 52. I've lived on this Earth for more than half a century. Yes, there is a downside to that. My bones are getting creaky and I walk with a slight limp. I can't stay up as late as I used to, though I think that has more to do with my finally having sense enough to know I never could stay up as late as I did. But there is a much larger upside than I ever imagined. Here are a few of the perks of being a geezer, or at least a geezer in training:

• I don't feel like I need to impress people anymore. I remember when I was younger how I wanted people to like and respect me and I did stuff that I really didn't like to get them to do it. I now see the irony in doing things that go against my personal code to gain respect. I have this neat relationship with God and myself now and, while I hope folks like me, I like me and, if you don't, well, that's your loss. Besides, I have the most amazing set of friends anyone could ever hope for, so any more would just be gravy. Mmm...gravy. 

• I have perspective. I used to see every negative event in my life as a disaster on a scale only Irwin Allen could depict. For all you young whippersnappers, look him up. You'll understand what I mean. But now that I've seen a lot more of those events come and go I now see that they're gone and I'm still here. My old speech teacher, seeing me do my Chicken Little imitation (look him up while you're at it) would look at me in the middle of a rant about how my world was coming to an end and simply say, "And the sun will come up tomorrow." He was trying to point out to me that life would go on and things would get better. Or they wouldn't. And either way it was going to be okay. 

• I feel like I have a new role. When I first started working at my school, I was the youngest teacher on the staff. Somewhere along the line, though, something happened and I became one of the oldest. I used to be one of those young pups that constantly looked to the veteran teachers, especially my mentors, Dan and Becky Daniel, for ideas and guidance. Well, this year, an amazing first year teacher who happened to be my student teacher last year is working right across the hall from me. I have the honor of giving her my perspectives when she comes to me troubled with something that happened in her class or looking for guidance. Yes, she's been to school more recently and may have some innovative ideas that I've not heard of, but I know what's important and what can be left alone for a bit. And in my circle of friends, my nerd night buddies, when I joked that I was the DOFF (Designated Old Fart Friend) of the group, my good friend Jonathan said he sees me as the wise intelligent one. When the heck did that happen? 

• I'm more comfortable in my skin. I've lived my whole life in a battle against my gut. I don't remember a time in my life when I wasn't either dieting or breaking my diet. From the time my mom took me shopping in the husky department at Sears & Roebuck (yes, it was once called that), I've been aware that I'm fat. And for the first time ever, I can live with that. Yes, I try to walk (not run--see previous creaky bones comment) and lift weights when I can and I generally eat a healthy diet because I just feel better when I do. But I also have some pizza when I want to with not even a little regret. I'm trying to lose some weight so my bones will creak less and the doctor won't be so insistent on putting me on cholesterol medications, but not because I'm worried that I look fat. When I used to look in the mirror, I always saw a fattie. Actually, I still do, but I don't try to suck my gut in and pretend I'm skinny anymore. 

There you go. I would add more, but I'm old and I forgot them. I guess that is a joy. I can experience things for the first time over and over. So forgive me if I accidentally write this post again next week. 

Stuff I Learned While Editing My Third Book

I'm getting set to head to Tamarack in the morning, so, though you can't tell it, I'm writing this on Friday. One of the joys of summer is time to get writing work done. This week, I've made some changes to both Harsh Prey and Kisses and Lies. No changes to the storylines or anything. For Harsh Prey, I updated the cover and back cover as well as fixing an alarming number of errors, proofreading and otherwise. It now has crazy stuff, like headers and page numbers and all the words are (I hope) spelled correctly. Kisses and Lies had but one typo that I could find and the cover was already amazing, so that didn't change, though I did change the back cover to include the blurb and a short bio. Both books now take up a lot less room, too. I changed both to single spaced, which did a couple things. First, it made the footprint of each book a lot smaller, which is pretty environmentally friendly. Second, it saved pretty heavily on print costs and I'll be able to pass the savings along to buyers.

But while I wasn't working on that stuff, I finally started this week with editing and revising Shalan #3, In the Shadow (Available around beginning of October). This process has taught me a few things. Here they are, in no particular order:

I like editing on paper instead of the computer. I've never done that since the olden days when I had no choice but to write and edit on paper. Since I got a word processor program for my sexy new Commodore 64, which came complete with a dot matrix printer and no hard drive, I've done all my editing right on the computer screen. This time, however, I accidentally started doing it on paper. I say accidentally because I never would have done it if I hadn't printed out a copy so my medical consultant, the real Dr. Mathur (that will make sense when you read the book) could make corrections when I butchered the medical scenes. I went through her comments and made corrections and then, before I knew it, I was editing the whole thing on paper. I found myself moving around in the text checking continuity and tweaking the storyline in ways that would be downright difficult to do on the computer. So I think it's paper editing for me from now on.

I've come a long way as a writer. Since I did an edit of HP immediately before ITS, I realize that, while I think the first book was good, I feel like the newest book is exponentially more engaging. Part of that is because I've had three books now to flesh out Harry, Dee, and Otis, making them more three-dimensional as time has gone by, but I think it's also about just honing my voice as a writer. I hope you'll agree.

I tend to be my worst critic. That's not really news, especially to my Pepper Potts, aka Maria Delgado. She and I were texting about the new book and I said something positive about it and, even through text, I could tell she was pleasantly shocked that it wasn't another critical statement about myself.

Speaking of Pepper and Dr. Mathur, this book, more than any other, reminds me that I can't do this alone. Poonam came all the way from Hershey, Pennsylvania to work with me on the medical scenes in this story. Without her, those scenes simply wouldn't have rung true. Maria reads every version of every book and, though she doesn't do a lot of editorial work, she is my own personal cheerleader. Her support is unwavering and it means the world to me.

I can make myself cry. When I wrote the first draft of this book, it was a dark time for me. The story goes into some really tragic and scary places within human nature, But I never cried. This time, though, as I reread after having put the story away for a couple months, one scene in particular brought a tear to my eye. Harry and Dee are just as real to me as if they were flesh and bone real and when a heartbreaking thing happens to them, it breaks my heart too. Yes, I made them up and I could have written them any way I wanted. But most writers will tell you that, no, I really couldn't have. It really doesn't work that way.

And finally, I discovered--okay, I really just confirmed something I already suspected--that I would love to do this stuff full time. It's summer. I could be outside. I could be traveling. I could be making money teaching summer school. What am I doing? I'm going to bed early and getting up every day and either writing, editing, or marketing. And I'm happy as a clam. I really, really hope I don't have to wait another 8 or 9 years to get to do this all the time. But I guess that's up to the book buying public.

So there they are. Six things I learned this week. That's a lot of stuff considering I only started Monday. So what did you learn this week?