Around the world in 80 blogs

   Hey, you’re in luck. Today’s post will be shorter than usual. That’s because I’ll be leaving the leg work for you to do, if you decide you want to. Hopefully you will enjoy the homework suggestions I offer. With that in mind, let’s see if I can put all this into context.

I have made the point numerous times over the years……I am a wanderlust junkie. From the time I ran away from home at fourteen I have had a thing about seeing the world ……at least the parts that appeal to me.

In a similar manner I have used these pages to spread what I consider the logic of using the internet to broaden our horizons, especially in our October and November years. As you might have guessed, I am here today to sell (or give away) what I consider a worthy combination of wanderlust and the internet. Turns out the two go together very well. If, however, you are one of those unfortunate souls for whom travel and the possibilities it offers is not appealing, even from the comfort of your armchair……please don’t sign off just yet.

The internet, of course, offers its information in many forms. As a longtime blogger I appreciate the many ways my blogging peers are able to spread their messages. If you have followed these pages for long you will perhaps recall that I’ve made the case before……there are blogs and bloggers for just about every subject under the sun. And when it comes to travel blogs the bloggers have so many individual ways to tell their story……so much more than the normal guidebook litany of sights, hotels, and restaurants.

Take for instances, travel destinations…….my topic du jour. I’d like to begin with London. Is there anyone out there blogging about London? I’m pretty sure we can find out. Just call up Google, enter “London bloggers,” and there you are. Take your pick from literally hundreds of London blogs.

Once there I called up a response labeled “Secret London - 75 London Bloggers.” I spent a few minutes leafing through some of those options, most of which claimed they could show me the London most tourists never see. Midway through that list I settled on one called “Deserter,” which seemed to approach the city from a slightly jaundiced perspective……claiming to be “A compendium of techniques to get more out of doing less.” That sounded like something that might fit me.

Then, emboldened by my London search I decided to try Paris. We’ve been there a few times, but I doubt that we’ve done more than scratch the surface. At a listing titled “I Prefer Paris” several bloggers offered their insights on Paris experiences that you and I would probably never find on our own. One blog, titled ‘Excuses vs Lies,” offered perhaps the most practical Parisian wisdom I found. “When Paris tries to kick my ass……I drink wine.”

Moving on I called up Amsterdam, another of our favorite cities, and again found dozens of bloggers claiming to tell us about the best their city has to offer. It was there I came across ‘iwanderandroam.com,' which probably caught my eye because we are serious ‘flea market’ junkies. What the blogger claims is the largest flea market in Europe is located in Amsterdam. It is called ‘Ij Hallen’ and is spread over two Huge warehouses. It might take a day or two to see it all, with age-appropriate rest breaks, but I’d love to do that.

I moved on to Galway because it’s my favorite city or town in Ireland. As it turned out the Galway blogger I was drawn to,  ‘youririshadventure.com, actually covers the entire country. It was their listing of ‘The Most Beautiful Towns in Ireland’ that immediately reeled me in. If scrolling through that list doesn’t have you itching to get up and go you had better check you pulse.

There were, of course, hundreds of other travel destinations I could have checked out for blogs and bloggers. It seems that just about any place you can think of is the subject of someone’s blog……offering local information you may not find in travel guides. Did I say “any place”? Perhaps it was time to test that theory.

Many of us grew up assuming that the most remote place in the world actually had a name. What better way to describe the middle of nowhere than “Timbuktu”? That was about as far as a person could go. Well, guess what? The ‘middle of nowhere’ has its own travel blogger.

The website ‘joaoleitao.com' is a great site that visits and photographs some of the most remote corners of the world. Its post - Timbuktu the mysterious, deep in the Malian dessert - calls the city “the meeting place of all who travel by camel or canoe.” Sounds idyllic, eh? In fact, the story’s many photos depict a stark beauty that most of us can scarcely imagine. It looks like an interesting place to explore.

I’ll admit I was taken by Timbuktu until I read the blogger’s disclaimer, which I found a bit off-putting. Would this be enough to give you second thoughts? “Since the 2012 Islamic rebel uprising kidnappings and foreign abductions have become routine.” About then my thoughts were turning toward more familiar ground.

In A Year to Remember, the first book Roma and I published together, we told the story of our young family’s home abroad in Winchester, England. By any measure that was a special time……those months spent among special friends in a special place. So, is Winchester home to bloggers? I had a hint to begin with. After all, my beloved Dull Men’s Club blog is posted from there. A simple “Winchester Bloggers” Google search produced several more candidates, including a particularly interesting possibility.

How about “10 Reasons for a Boudoir Photoshoot”? To be honest I had never considered that. Does that even fit your notion of a travel blog? Truth to tell it had me wondering what was going on in what I remembered as the sedate environs of Winchester?

Then I read the article’s ‘Reason #1’…… ”Create Your Own Definition of Sexy.” Wow, that raised some interesting possibilities. Calling Roma to the computer I was ready to offer a possibility of my own. Ouch! It took about two seconds for her to veto (rather loudly) my photoshoot suggestion. Then, once she caught her breath, she countered with an idea of her own. Perhaps I ought to consider a photoshoot of my own……ala the Burt Reynolds centerfold model. 

It took me only one second to imagine the adjectives people might use to ‘define’ that sort of Sexy. Needless to say I soon moved on to other Winchester offerings, the ones dealing with the city’s ancient history, medieval High Street, the Jane Austin Home, and the spectacular cathedral.

All of which brings me back to an obvious question. Are we returning to London, Paris, Amsterdam, or Galway? Probably not. Is Timbuktu in our future. Not likely. But in the course of my mini-blogfest I had spent several enjoyable hours enjoying sights I will never see and learning about places I will never visit. For a creaky old armchair traveler like me that feels like a win.

Finally, setting definitions of ‘sexy’ aside, I must point out that the internet is chock full of bloggers and blogs addressing just about any subject you choose to pursue. I am a travel addict, so those are the ones I selected today. But whatever tweaks your interest……be it ‘sexy photoshoots, exotic recipes, or any other topic you can think of……there are bound to be blogs and bloggers following in its wake. Why not choose your own favorite topic and go looking?

Late Life in the Lonely Lane

Again it is the first Wednesday of the month, time for a tip of the hat to the Insecure Writers Support Group. With that comes the opportunity to address this month's IWSG question......With that comes the opportunity to address this month's IWSG question......"Besides writing, what other creative outlets do you have?"

     Truth is, at my age, in the November of life, I have few other creative outlets and am not actively looking for more. Writing, be it books or blogs, seems the perfect venue for me……allowing me the freedom to go where I want, say what I want, explore what I want, even create the future I want……all of it limited only by my imagination. 

As an October/November writer I am provided endless possibilities to explore the bits of real life, especially late-life reality, that mean the most to me. Writing provides a structured process for consolidating my sometimes disparate thoughts, while demanding the discipline that comes with putting those thoughts into words. 
     Best of all, I can do all that from the comfort of my recliner or computer. What is not to like? Case in point.......today's post. I call it LATE-LIFE IN THE LONELY LANE. I hope it rings true to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lots of us know all about October, and perhaps November too. We spent decades working toward what they call the Golden Years......when we could live out the dreams we had set aside for so long. Fortunately  many of our generation, with the help of Social Security, generous pensions, Medicare, and IRAs, have found at least some of the gold in those Golden Years.

What could possibly be wrong with that rosy picture? We like to think that we have earned the right to a comfortable retirement. After all, we have played the game according to the rules and deserve the fruits of our labors. Just look at the world around you. Everywhere you turn you see seniors taking advantage of their hard work and good fortune.

And you would be right about that……at least partially. But at the same time you might be overlooking the growing number of our late-life peers for whom the ‘Golden Years’ will mean something very different.

For instance, I refer you to a recent issue of This Week magazine, and an article titled “An Epidemic of Loneliness,” which paints a decidedly distressing picture of the reality facing a sizable segment of American society, especially what it calls the 'Senior Boomers.' It claims that according to social-science researchers Loneliness ……defined as “having fewer social contacts and meaningful relationships than we want,” is a significant cultural condition, especially among the elderly.

According to the research they cite nearly half of Americans feel alone or left out. One in eight of our citizens report that they know zero people well. Some experts go so far as to claim that the nation’s most common pathology is 'loneliness.'

A closer look at the situation facing our October/November peers reveals even more daunting detail. In the course of their adult life Baby Boomers have had fewer children and more divorces than their parents, leaving more of them without companionship in old age. Even when there are children involved, they are apt to be spread far and wide across the country. As a result of those and other factors one in six Senior Boomers live alone.

But those sad facts are simply a matter of numbers, of statistics. And you know what they say about statistics……”You can make them say anything you want.” Yet in the end what really matters is not gaudy charts and sterile numbers, but the soul-deep impact on individual lives.

For years I have made the point that late-life, our October and November Years, works best as a shared effort, when two or more persons…… be they friends, lovers, family, or caregivers……face that sometimes harsh time together. I have written whole books making that case, following my Tanner friends as they stumble toward the relationships they hope will support them in those trying times.

In previous posts I have referred to those lonely seniors as Elder Orphans. The first time I heard that description it had the ring of an epiphany……a striking, suddenly-revealed truth. In two short words it seemed to capture the essence of a wide-spread late-life crisis, one we see all around us.

Elder Orphans, like their infant counterparts, are literally on their own at a very vulnerable time of life……and just as much in need of caring support. Chances are they are socially and physically isolated, living without a family member or surrogate. They are often depressed, and sometimes dealing with the loss of decision-making capabilities. To make matters worse they are seldom acknowledged as a group or class that needs help.

So what does the future hold for that elder orphan population? By all accounts their numbers are increasing, and the demand for the help they need grows accordingly. According to current trends, over time more of them will need more help for a longer period of time. 
A recent AARP report offers little solace, confirming that demand for elder caregivers continues to grow faster than the supply. In the face of funding shortfalls and rapidly increasing costs Caregiver per Orphan ratios are steadily declining across the country. Being an Elder Orphan is not about to get any easier.

I realize that my Tanner Chronicles stories ……fictional accounts of fictional situations……are one thing. Actually being an Elder Orphan, living that life, is something very different. Still, that reality is something that you and I can play a part in addressing.

You see, most of us can identify one or more elder orphans. They sit in the midst of our congregations. We pass them shuffling behind their walker in the supermarket aisle, or rub elbows with them at the senior center. You are apt to find them in hospital emergency rooms, often their only source of the health care most of us take for granted. They are, in fact, everywhere……out of sight right before our eyes.

As for myself, I hope I can be observant enough and bold enough to spot the elder orphans who cross my path. I need to acknowledge their place in my world, and perhaps take the time to hear a bit of their story. That’s an important thing, showing them that for at least a few minutes someone cares enough to listen. There are so many folks out there who need that casual gift ……the simple act of acknowledging and affirming their presence. Isn’t that what every orphan wants, no matter what his or her’s age? 

I could end this post right there. But the writer in me has me returning to an earlier post, where I used the following scene from Best Friends and Promises to depict the November life of Johnny Blanton, one of my favorite Tanner friends. Johnny lives in a low-cost, county-owned apartment, surrounded by neighbors who scarcely acknowledge his presence. Though he would be unwilling to admit as much, (Truth is he would scream like hell.), in many important ways he has become an orphan. You tell me, is this a viable depiction of an Elder Orphan?

  For all his gregarious instincts Johnny Blanton led a spartan, decidedly-isolated existence, the unfortunate result of circumstances over which he had little control.
     In the course of his four-year residency in the County-operated Senior Housing Complex he had concluded that his neighbors, as a group, suffered from a multitude of shared failings. To a person they were old, financially strapped, grouchy, and judgmental. Most depressing of all, not one of them appeared to subscribe to his long-cultivated interest in having a good time.

Wary, unsmiling widows were everywhere. He passed them in the hallways. They crowded the dingy activity room. Without exception he found them unnaturally distrusting of his well-intentioned attention. At one time or another he had approached nearly all of them, hoping to spark some degree of interest, and had struck out at every turn.

Except for Mrs. Perkins, who lived across the hall from his apartment and provided him with a steady supply of day-old newspapers, Johnny had not made one female acquaintance in the entire thirty-unit complex. He took that sad reality, and the slight it represented, very personally

To make matters worse Johnny’s success at making friends among the male residents, he called them “inmates,” had been only slightly better. Some were deaf, blind, or immobile---which tended to limit their “good time” potential. 
Sadly, the few who still found drinking beer a viable social pursuit were no more affluent than Johnny. After years of having Aaron Peck and others pick up the tab, he was reluctant to cultivate drinking buddies who expected him to play that role.

As a result, his social life had become seriously constrained. For three years Willie Thomas, who did not drink at all, but played a mean game of cribbage, had been his most reliable ally among the residents. With Willie’s passing the previous December that welcome friendship had been lost.

In his heart of hearts Johnny Blanton was a very social creature. It appeared, however, that in the sterile confines of the Senior Complex his declining years were destined to be lived out in a state of stagnant depression. To his way of thinking it would take a miracle to change that unfortunate situation.

As a writer, of course, it is my job to create ‘miracles’ that change ‘unfortunate situations.’ In real life, however, it is up to you and me to  identify the Elder Orphans in our universe and, when possible, help create our own late-life miracles.

Living in the past......and why not?

“Come on, Dad. We know the old days were a lot better than we have it now ……at least in your mind. You’ve made that point before.” It was one of our own children, one of the outspoken ones, gently disputing my oh-so-logical logic.

“But remember, we live in today’s world, where cell phones, tweets, and a bunch of other stuff you’ve never heard of, are part of our lives. And still, here you are again....living in the past.”

If you are a resident of my October/November neighborhood you have probably heard similar complaints, both out loud and implied. While our grandkids are usually too well behaved to resort to such criticism, at least within range of my hearing, our four children are sometimes less reserved. Heck, there are times when Roma offers that same assessment.

Just so you know, I do not LIVE in the past. Though I may visit there more often than some folks, it is certainly not my permanent residence. Still, I hope the world will excuse those moments when a faraway glaze comes over me, when it may appear that I have been transported to someplace beyond the present. Truth to tell, I happen to believe we all deserve an occasional return to times past……to the places, people, and lessons we remember so easily.

Why is that, you may ask. Why do so many of us occasionally retreat into the ‘past,’ to what once was? More often than not those journeys to our personal memory vault come without warning, triggered by something we have seen or heard, or perhaps a random, out-of-the-blue thought. 

      (Pause…..if you are old enough to remember, you can imagine the sounds of Jack Benny entering his underground vault. That is the image I have in mind right now.) 

You know how those visits work, the way they can grab your attention. Once there you might simply shrug off those intruding thoughts and return to the present……or you may dwell a while in that comforting space, wringing all you can from the pleasant recollections you find there.

I sometimes encounter those ‘reaching into the past’ moments in my writing, when a particular scene has me searching for a convincing way to describe my character’s thoughts and feelings. What better way to imagine how he or she feels than remembering how I felt at times like that?

Or perhaps we return to our past for other reasons, seeking pleasant, well-remembered good times to serve as an antidote for a not-so-pleasant present. In any case, when I try to understand the reasons for my ‘living in the past,’ I keep returning to one important product of those unscripted mind travels …….a hoped-for result I call Affirmation.

         Defined as “emotional support or validation,” affirmation is a deep human need we all share. Everyone of us has moments when we need to be reminded that we are worthy, even when life has us doubting. That ‘validation’ provides the motivation for much of what we do......good and bad. Moreover, our need for that is as real in late-life as it was when we were youngsters. Small wonder that revisiting our own life experiences, the memories that affirm our intentions and remind us of lessons learned, strikes me as a worthy reason to keep remembering.

After all, no matter where our life has taken us, by our October and November years we have accumulated a sizable inventory of affirming memories. Some are true-to-life recollections, recorded exactly as they happened all those years ago. Others may have been reconfigured over time to better suit our purposes. And now, in late-life, still nursing the same need for validation, it may be easier to find the comfort and support we seek by returning to those earlier memories, rather than creating new ones. 

Caveat - There are also totally dysfunctional memories lurking in the dark corners of my mind, ones I usually avoid bringing to the surface. True, there are times when those well-remembered “gotchas” remind me what not to do. But as a rule I prefer to visit the positive, affirming bits of my past.

Why shouldn’t we return from time to time to the favorable moments we have stored in our memory vault? I can’t think of any reason to feel guilty about doing that. In fact we ought to consider it a blessing……an opportunity to select the moments that mean the most to us. So what if a particular recollection has been embellished over time to better fit our psychic needs? Perhaps it is all the more affirming because of that.

By this time of life the person we have become is certainly very different than the one who created those memories we like to revisit. In all likelihood our world has shrunk in size and scope, in keeping with our diminished mobility and energy. And our lifestyle is probably less vigorous by a factor or two or three….or seven or eight.

I have claimed over and over that I want to keep Becoming in my late-life years. Yet the pursuit of that hopeful possibility calls for a reality check ……to help me understand that a realistic version of Becoming has changed with time.

I tell myself to keep reaching out, to be more than I was before. I believe we are meant to do that. Still, the realistic results of my reaching will not look like the affirming moments of times past……the high points and lessons learned the hard way, the ones I like to remember.

So now, in late-life, when my efforts come up short I give myself permission to resurrect affirming recollections I created in times past……hoping they may serve as a tonic in the face of today’s troubles.

At times like that why shouldn’t we retrieve a memory to soothe our distress? I understand that living in the past, as a permanent resident, is not a healthy frame of mind. But an occasional visit, to remember and relive the dreams we had, the battles we won, and the special people who have made our life journey worthwhile……I consider that time well spent.

Why Hide My Insecurity?

       

       It is amazing how things can change so quickly? A couple weeks ago I was ready to fold my blogging tent. As I mentioned at the time, it felt like I had said everything I had to say. And who needs a blogger with nothing more to add?

Dozens of you have been following these posts for years, and I sensed that perhaps you too were growing a bit tired of it all. So, as I set off on my 83rd year it seemed like a good time to call it a day.

Then, scarcely a week later, with a single mouse click, I was unexpectedly transported to a very different set of possibilities. You know how I am, selling the virtues of the road less traveled and reaching beyond our comfort zone……at an age when less traveled and reaching out are not always the norm. 

As you may already know, I am not a joiner. Actually, I am rather fussy about who earns my allegiance. It has to be a fit……which is why until now my only affiliation (besides our church) has been my honorary membership in The Dull Men’s Club.

That’s right. Dull. What adjective better describes a November fellow who writes relational stories about his late-life peers? And if that same storyteller finds it awkward, even hard, to tell the world why his October stories ought to be read……you might say he is also Insecure. Generally speaking I am a reasonably secure guy, but when it comes to my stories, probably not so much. 

Surprise……I have just learned there also is a club for Insecure Writers. Think of that, I’m now a member of two clubs…..…Dull and Insecure. Am I on a roll or what? 

Over the years you’ve read my doubts in these pages ……about the stories I tell and the way I tell them. You’ve seen me grumble that no one seems to care that those stories are out there waiting to be read, even though my modest Gil Stewart Website is welcoming, and my Amazon Author's Page offers 20 books just waiting to be discovered. So it should not be surprising that this newly discovered group of creative souls, who are willing to openly discuss their insecurities about something as personal as their own writing experiences, had me feeling quite at home. My first visit to the Insecure Writers Support Group (IWSG) website convinced me I belonged there.

True, lots of those folks are kids……20s, 30s, and such……and most are women, which seems to be the norm for wannabe writers. If I was younger that might be intimidating. But I’ve outgrown that. To be sure, their stories are not at all like the Geriatric Adolescence tales I tell. But its been fun to read about the many paths they have followed on their creative journeys.

Yet no matter what their age or what they write, as I trolled through the nearly 180 member blogs, each of them linked in their own way to the same creative impulse that keeps pulling me along, it felt like I was eavesdropping on a family affair……the sort of clan I would like to be part of.

Truth to tell, at any age (even in their November years) unpublished or self-published writers are apt to find themselves in an insular space…..perhaps lacking the skills, resources, and/or the contacts to have their work refined and noticed. In a world where thousands of self-published stories are released every week it is easy to feel like we are creating something good, but no one knows about it. Seems to me that is a likely recipe for writer insecurity.

IWSG’s stated purpose is very straight forward……to help us share our writing experiences and encourage those who have set out on that path......while at the same time accepting their input about our writing efforts. The goal is to provide a forum where writers feel comfortable asking questions, offering advice, and discussing the doubts and concerns they have about their craft…….i.e. a safe haven for insecure writers, no matter what they write.

     With that in mind IWSG offers the promise of support that many of us are seeking. As part of that effort the first Wednesday of each month (that’s today) is designated as Insecure Writers Support Group Day, when we are asked to post about our own writing experiences……the doubts, the highs, and the lows……while encouraging others who share those challenges.

At the same time we will be visiting blogs of others in the group, connecting with them and sharing our input. Some of them will be visiting this blog, offering their comments. As always I’m hoping you regulars will be willing to join in the conversation.

Is it real, IWSG and the connections it promises? I suppose time will tell. Odds are it won’t create miracles, but I applaud their efforts to help us wannabe storytellers reach out and connect with each other. In the meantime, I hope you will check in on future first-Wednesday posts and help me track where all those insecurities take us.

We're not as helpless as we may feel

We all know the truth of it. I know I’ve made the point before. It feels like it ought to be in bold print. Everyone, every single person you see or meet, is fighting one or more battles you will never know about. I have a few of my own, and so do you.

There are Mega Battles

  What kind of battles are we fighting, you ask? Actually, there are more battlefields than we can possibly list. But consider just a few of the many candidates. America may be the home of the free and the brave. But we are also home to staggering homelessness, a nearly unimaginable addiction crisis, a hit and miss mental health landscape, and a faltering health-care system….all of it framed by massive debt.

This very morning a USA Today article stated bluntly that the US is the most dangerous place in the developed world to be pregnant. Not simply inconvenient, but downright dangerous.

Meanwhile, we watch from the sidelines as our representatives do their own thing…… pandering to Big Pharma and insurance interests, filling our prisons at a rate seen nowhere else in the civilized world, while failing to acknowledge, let alone address, the most pressing environmental concerns mankind has ever seen. And in the process they seem to have enlisted the fox to guard the henhouse.

At the same time, at every turn, it seems that our elected leaders have also failed to address many of the mundane, every-day matters that most impact their constituents. So, while they fight their partisan battles, holding our very government hostage, you and I are lest to confront our own conflicts.

And there are our own Micro Battles

As mentioned before, each of us has our own menu of personal ‘battles’ to fight. And why not? Those obstacles are, after all, a part of what we call life. Whatever their form, no one escapes them.

Still, in the end it is not enough to simply point out how our leaders have failed us. Not when every person we see or meet……every life that crosses our path……the ones we love and the ones we hate…….is struggling in ways we will never know. The battles you and I fight rarely make the news. They are personal, and the battlegrounds on which we wage those wars are where we live, work, and live our lives. 

Yet we have weapons of our own

You and I cannot legislate the answers our legislators have failed to provide. But we can do our part, in ways that won’t make headlines, but are perhaps the most effective response of all.

Pointing fingers and shouting our hastily-formed criticism rarely helps. On the other hand, rather than looking away a thoughtful, person to person response, that allows our nonjudgemental empathy to shine through, is often the best, sometimes the only, gift we have to give to those in need. Best of all, that personal, caring contact is the most appropriate gift for any season.

Merry Christmas, all year long.

Of Course You Can

  I know, I said I had hung up my blogging boots......that you might never hear from me again. Actually, it felt like I had nothing more to add to the conversation. Turns out I was at least momentarily wrong about that. I have something important I would. like to reemphasize. I just hope you are willing to hear me out.

  What changed my mind? It was the mundane process of editing the second volume of these October Years blog posts that had me reviewing the post that follows. I hope you can tell I was excited by the possibilities it offered back in early 2017, when I first posted this. I am even more convinced today......every one of my October friends, and anyone else who is interested, ought to consider the challenge I am setting out here.

  When I first addressed this subject it felt like I was speaking to the world in general, hoping that my message would resonate with someone, and perhaps lead to something tangible.

  Well, guess what? In the last few months I have watched two friends of ours set out on the path I wrote about---from the gentle nudging of a good idea all the way to a finished product. I spent a few minutes with each of them early on, suggesting what seemed to me the right approach, then stepped back while they carried on by themselves. I have seen their results, and they are impressive. 

  Let me begin with the fact of it. As sometimes happens, I have stumbled across a message I want to spread. I believe in this cause, and I would like to share it  with you.  

  Before you head for the door, please know that I am not interested in limiting your right to carry an AK-47, or bazooka, or whatever other “personal protection” device you desire. Neither am I advocating for the need to take away the weapons you already have. I don’t want to know if your Parenthood was Planned or not. I don't even care if Trump is your notion of God. Those may be important issues, but they are not on my plate today. With those disclaimers in mind, I hope you will hear me out before you change channels.

  I will begin with the obvious. If you are the kind who likes to poke around the internet, you may have noticed how many October-November folks are out there---speaking their piece, asking their questions, and telling their stories. 

  Spend a few minutes on the web and you’ll realize there is almost no limit to the ways you can have your say. Our October/November friends are making their points and telling their stories in the form of Facebook posts, blogs, videos, and chat rooms. 

  Beyond that, more and more of them are taking what seems to me the next logical step, They are writing and publishing their stories, whether family histories, family travel and adventures, self-help manuals, non-fictional offerings of every kind, and a multitude of fictional stories. (Have you checked out the Geriatric Vampire literature? It is quite ghastly.) 
   Let's start with the truth of it. You have a story to tell. Everyone has a story to tell. It is their story, and no one else knows it as well as they. That is especially true in late-life, when you are able to look back on your life-journey and spell out your personal perspective of the life you have lived.

  Have you ever dreamed of telling your own story? Disclaimer: I am not talking about the need for commercial success. Your story may be childhood recollections, family history and myths handled down from your grandparents, or an original children's story for the grandkids. The potential audience may be only family and friends. That's fine. 
  Do you realize how easy it has become to produce and share e-books and Print-on-Demand paperbacks? Beyond the book itself, an Author’s Page on Amazon that lists a writer’s books and e-books and allows prospective readers to browse and perhaps buy those offerings, costs absolutely nothing. 

   So let’s return for a moment to the reason for today’s post, the message I’m hoping to spread. As a veteran of those story-telling efforts I would like  to convince every one of you, especially my late-life friends, that you too ought to have your say, no matter what the content, in the form of a quality, hold-in-your-hand paperback. 

  Whether ‘your book’ (that has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?) deals with family history, fond remembrances, favorites recipes,  gardening tips, or your own fiction---today’s technology provides a gold-plated opportunity to see your work in print. Your book may be forty pages or four hundred. Either way it is easy and inexpensive. There are few excuses not to give it a try.

  So why not? Especially in late-life you probably have the time to do that. And given your history (whatever it may be), you certainly have stories to tell---if only for a limited audience of immediate family and friends. 

   That is exactly what Roma and I have done on a couple of occasions. Those books, there are two of them, were personal stories for and about our family. For each of the books we had five very professional-looking paperback copies printed, one for each of our children and one for us. If we never sell another copy we’ve accomplished everything we wanted to with those stories. I guarantee that you can do that too.

   Let’s consider the economics of it. In the old days, if we had a manuscript that publishers were not willing to underwrite, Plan B was what they called “vanity publishing.” That entailed paying an often second-rate publisher to turn your story into a book and print a given number of copies.
  The publisher would  require a minimum run, say one hundred books or more, enough to create economies of scale. The total cost would undoubtedly be at least several hundred 1970 or 1980 dollars. That was indeed a hefty price. Truth is, you had to be quite vain and a bit flush to afford that.

  Today, as the author of a Print-on-Demand book you can purchase your own high-quality paperbacks directly from the POD publisher for $5.00 or $6.00 each. The book might be your family history, your personal life story, a collection of poems, or the family’s favorite recipes. There is no up-front cost and you can order exactly the number of copies you want---from one to a thousand---for that same low price. 

  True, you will have to write and edit the material, enter it on a computer, then upload that file to the publisher’s template. Your investment will be one of time, not dollars. Most of us can afford that, especially when we are having fun in the process.

  By now you may be wondering, “How could I be expected to write a book or tell a story? And what about dealing with agents and editors---the experts who work with professional writers?” 

   Well, the fact is, you don’t need those folks, unless you are aiming for a best seller, complete with a big-time marketing campaign. You see, telling a self-published story of any sort is a very personal activity. Regardless of what the so-called “experts” may say, there is no right way, no wrong way to do that. 
  If you are writing for yourself, you are the only one you have to please. Your POD publisher will print exactly what you send them, which can be both good and bad. In any case, you are the one who judges the results. Does it work for you? That is the question. More than that, one of the beauties of Print-on-Demand publishing is the ease of revising and editing any or all of your book at any time in the future.

  What can I say? I enjoy seeing my stories in print. Of course it’s a vanity thing. There’s no denying that. It’s an accomplishment I am proud of. More than that, it has proved to be a most liberating way to spend my October and November hours. 
   As one who writes to please myself, (without worrying too much about what will sell), I tell the stories I want to tell, the way I want to tell them. In the end I am the only one I have to satisfy. Within those parameters, anyone who wants to tell their story---about anything, in any way they choose---can do that.

   Please bear with me for a moment while I offer a specific example. It was mid-May a couple years ago when Roma first dropped her idea on me. I was finishing a story and would soon be ready to start another. 

   “Why not write about our time in England?” she asked. “With all the crazy things that happened to us, it would be fun and funny. And I know the kids would like to know more about that time. It would be something for them to pass on to their kids.”

  Truth to tell, it took a few weeks for me to warm to the possibilities. But when I did, the fun she had talked about was only just beginning. For days we sat in the living room, just the two of us, reliving those 1972 months when we lived on Ashley Close in Winchester, England. 
  One recollection would lead to another. Before long the notes were piling up---about how we had ended up in Winchester, the life we lived there, the mistakes we made, the wonderful friends we met, and the life-changing experiences our children gained. Before we were done we had the stuff of a story---our story.

   By September we had a first draft, a 54,000 word computer file. As I had done so many times before, I uploaded the file to the KDP template. Daughter Amy, who would not see the finished story until much later, designed the cover using a collage of family photos from our time in England. Then, after proofing our online file, we made the first monetary investment in our project.  ---$6.50, including shipping and handling, for a single copy of the paperback.

   Long story short, that first copy was used to proofread and edit the entire story again. (Additional editing would come later.) A month later, we ordered five copies of the revised story we called A Year to Remember, by Gil and Roma Stewart---for a total cost of $30.05. That Christmas our children received their copies as gifts.

We had invested thirty-seven dollars, a few printing supplies, and a good many hours doing what we both found absolutely enjoyable. For that modest cost we had produced a fine-looking 254-page story that recorded a special time in the life of our family. Additionally, in e-book and paperback versions, it was now available to the public on my Amazon Author’s Page---where it has sold a few copies and received good reviews.. All in all I consider that a good return on our investment.

As for the story itself. Does this back-cover tease sound interesting to you?

“Gil was at it again. At the tender age of 35 he was on track for his third mid-life crisis in five years. For some inexplicable reason he had concluded that he was meant to be a writer. Now he was preparing to move his thoroughly confused family to England in pursuit of his career as a novelist.”

As I said in the beginning, my mission today is to make the point that everyone of us, young or old, has stories to tell---memories to preserve, personal passions we would like to translate into a permanent, paperback form. 

Let me repeat, loud and clear---for next to nothing you can turn your family adventures, genealogical history, or the fictional tale you have longed to create into something special for you and your family. Chances are you will find the process both fun and creatively invigorating. 

Personally I use kdp.amazon.com to publish my books. I like their process and love their customer support. There are, however, several other Print-on-Demand publishers out there. You’ll find them online.

Okay. with that I’m through preaching. But before you sign off I hope you will take a moment to let your mind wander a bit---to whatever story you would like to tell, or topic you would like to explore......especially ones your family deserves to read and hand down. If you are looking for a New Year's resolution, you couldn't do better than telling your own story in your own way.

PS -- I mentioned earlier the recent Print-on-Demand books I have watched coming to life. Don is a retired Methodist minister, with stories to tell and a gift for interesting titles. I think his first book, Of Donuts, Toilet Paper, Grace, and Love, proves that. Mary, on the other hand, has created a sizable collection of family stories, assembled in a 400+ volume, complete with black and white photos.
Both of them put in the creative work and mundane computer entry.....and have something special to show for their efforts.

Finally, don't you dare "Comment" on this idea. I don't want to spoil my 'no comment' record.