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Sunday, November 4, 2018

About my author

My author is a 75+-year-old guy who thinks he's a lot younger. He's surprised every time he sees his face in the mirror. "Am I that old," he asks?

He's dismayed when he realizes that he's past the age when he's desirable to women--long past. Well, he might offer, not all women. His wife still wants him around. But there was a time when he'd wonder "Is that woman interested in me?" He never took steps to really find out, but the fact that it was a possibility was pleasing to him. Now it's pretty obvious that the answer is always no.

And besides, he's wouldn't be in pursuing an interest even if it was there. He'd just like to know he had the option. And he's learning to live with the fact that he doesn't.\

He thinks he's still a worthwhile human being--which means that the world is better with him alive than with him dead. He's facing the rapidly approaching end of his life with interest, rather than dread, though that could change, he knows.

He's intelligent and creative--or believes himself to be. And he's looking for ways to channel his creativity to better the world.

One way to better the world, he thinks, is by bettering himself. And he sees a lot of room for improvement.

He wastes time. A lot of it. He thinks that it's a tragic loss for him to waste the time that he wastes. He believes that life is a kind of miracle, that his own existence is a kind of miracle. He feels a desire to show gratitude, but he has no idea who to thank. So he thanks the universe. Or he invents God and thanks Her. Or Him. Or It.

He's happy now, standing at his Geek Desk, the Cherry keyboard that he recently got clicking away. He loves watching words as they appear on the page and as he contemplates the mystery and the miracle of existence.

How do those words appear? He wonders. He knows that he's decided to write. He knows that he's decided to stand in front of the keyboard and let his fingers type. He's interested to see what comes next. What does come next? He wonders.

Sometimes what comes out displeases him. That's what the backspace key is for. He's able to correct what he doesn't like. Or rather--to give orders that cause it to be corrected. He doesn't bother himself with the details of correction, being an executive and all.

He wants to share what he's got with other people, but he's a habitual introvert. That's a habit he'd like to break. He hopes that I can help him do that. I hope so, too.

There's a lot more that could be said about my author. And there's a lot more that could be said about me and about the process of becoming and the process by which I might help him. But I'm going to leave it at this.

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