The Christmas holidays in the
Ashbury household have officially begun. This year, when we were expecting my
husband to have more time off than in recent seasons past, he ended up having
less—just two weeks instead of the three he has had the last couple of years. He
finished up his work for 2016 last Friday. The first thing he did when he got
home was turn off the alarm on his cell phone.
One significant difference
between this year and last, aside from his time off being a week shorter, is the
change he made very early this past January, when he moved his computer out of
my office, and into a corner of the living room. So already, we’re beginning
this two-week period with less stress between us than last time. Even more
interesting is that a few months ago, he began looking forward to what it was
he’d be doing to occupy his time when he retires. Next year this time, he will
have been retired for about a month.
His original plan had been to
find a piece of old farm equipment, and restore it. This would require a fair
bit of physical activity on his part, beginning with constructing a garage to do
the work in. About a year or so ago, he officially scrapped that idea. Although
his COPD isn’t progressing rapidly, it is a constant for him, and it’s a disease
that will never get better. He decided that while he will do his best to remain
as physically active as possible, he needed a more sedentary activity to help
the days pass.
I didn’t have to warn him that
he couldn’t just quit work after more than 40 years and just do nothing; this
was something he already knew. There have been people we’ve known or known of in
our lifetimes, who did just that—spent their time becoming professional couch
potatoes—and died within a year of retirement. He knew he had to have a reason
to get up every day. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he told me he’d found
the perfect thing for him to do: he’s going to write novels.
He has already written one
novel—a challenge he accepted, from me, back in the day when I was hoping to
some day be published. He was so full of “helpful advice” on how I could improve
my writing “process”, I suggested that since he was an expert, he should write
his own book, which he did.
Now, he would be the first to
tell you it wasn’t very good. But it had a beginning, a middle, and an end, and
a plot that unfolded in a logical manner. That’s pretty basic, and if you can do
that, you can in all likelihood write a passable book. Some talent is necessary,
but mostly, it’s craft. He’s not undertaking this activity to make money, just
to keep busy. If things in the self-publishing world don’t change within the
next couple of years, that’s what he’ll do with his finished novel.
He isn’t going to write
romance, which I am certain is good news to those of us who do. Instead, he’s of
a mind to write dystopian stories, as those are the ones he likes to read that
most fire his imagination. He has a couple of different scenarios in mind, and
so far, is enjoying himself, outlining plot points.
He’s already started on his
first novel, because once that idea creeps into your mind, you can’t always put
it off. It needs to be written out—and since my husband decided
to write it out (the old-fashioned way using pen and paper), he’s already
filled a couple of notebooks. I’ve promised that I’ll help him where I can. End
of civilization stories aren’t really in my wheelhouse, as I’ve only ever read
one series that had that kind of theme. But that doesn’t mean I can’t edit it
for him, when he decides it’s ready to head to the book-sellers. While I would
never claim to be able to edit my own work, I believe I have the creds necessary
to fill that role for someone else.
I’m delighted he found
something to focus on, something to look forward too. I’ve long ago decided that
the secret to happiness is to have a goal or, if you will, a dream. It’s better to spend your time
being someone going somewhere, rather than just standing still and letting the
moss of passing time cover you over.
David and I wish all of you a
very Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and a Happy Kwanzaa!
Love,
Morgan
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