BEATNICK SILENT EATS & SCRIBBLES AS THE JUICE RUNS OUT

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Recently I came across an article in an AARP publication. A writer mentioned that retirement took all the edge off "writing for publication". His youthful "juices" were dried up. I feel the prune juice running out of me too and may soon need diapers. The dude in the AARP publication had made a living with his writing whereas all my poetry and short story publications have been in the literary world of non-paying little mags & small presses. My goal "to get someone other than myself to publish a novel of mine" before I die is all out of whack according to Jung who said that one ought to make money first and become philosophical in later life. I may have mentioned this in a previous post. Who knows? Seems to me I've been philosophical all my life, seeking the meaning to existence in my off hours.

An interesting aspect about writing speculative fiction concerns too little or not enough. Manning, as you know, is set 250 years in the future. I gotta surround the story with a future culture and that means I gotta decide how much information about the future to present to readers. Enough to keep them interested or too much and they get bored and quit reading?

By the way, I'm currently lunching on a smoothie: carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, frozen strawberries, banana slices, a touch of prune juice, vanilla almond milk, protein powder (since I left out walnuts) and three packs of sweetener. I swear, Granny Thomas, you can't mix up anything bad tasting when you chop it down to its atomic size.