Yeah. Once a story's in my gut, I feel like if I don't let it out in written words it's going to rip a hole in me like the thing in "Alien."

I was 50 when my life blue-screened. I managed to start over and rebuild my psychology career, but I knew from that point it was only going to be my day job. I was posting poetry on DeviantArt and going to every open mic within an hour's drive. A few more years and I was publishing poems in magazines and writing plays. A few more years and I'd retired from psychology, produced 1000 pages of fiction and was applying to MFA programs. Now I'm a year from graduating (I'll be 69) and planning to divide my future work time between teaching writers, writing articles for Medium, and writing novels, poetry, plays, screenplays, and whatever else.

Shuffleboard can wait.