A Writer Turns 71...

Seems like a writer should have something brilliant to say about turning 71. After all, as a writer and an editor, words are my bread and butter. I write everyday, I work on other people's writing every day. There's surely something to say about one more trip around the sun. I'm going to give it a shot.  

Right off, 71 is not a year I ever, ever believed I'd see. There's history behind that statement, I promise. First of all, my mom died at 60--very young--of a massive heart attack. I was 35 at the time, but for years--until I turned 61, actually, I was certain my fate would be hers, and that I would die at 60 as well. Sister PJ had the same fear, although, interestingly, sister Kate, never gave it a second thought. Ironic, given she passed away at age 63. The universe laughs, doesn't it?

Anyway, clearly, I made it to 60 and that was the year I thought I'd better get my writer butt in gear and do something with those stories I'd been writing and hoarding for 50 years. So with the help of the amazing Lani Diane Rich, I put two of them out into the world on my 60th birthday. It was fun and I realized that I had so many more stories to tell, so I kept writing, all the while, believing I was probably on borrowed time. 

In 2018, I signed my first contract with Tule Publishing. I was 65--the age most people retire. Yet, I was just beginning a brand new chapter (pun intended!) in my career. It was braver than it might have seemed because I was basically giving the universe, fate, whatever you want to call it, the finger and saying, "I'm doing this!" I had too many stories left to tell, and it felt as if the clock was ticking, even though I was well past Mom's fatal age of 60. 

But then, two years ago, after struggling with feeling unnaturally tired and getting breathless way too easily, I talked to my doc, and she sent me on to a cardiologist, who told me that I was in heart failure. (I confess that I was shocked despite genetics and my fears post-Mom's death). Although I didn't really appreciate the sick humor of it at that time, the irony of a romance author with a failing heart wasn't lost on me. At first, I was sure that my life and my writing and editing career were over because now my days were truly numbered. 

Turns out, science and medicine have figured out a workaround for heart failure patients--not a cure, no, not a cure ... but a four-drug protocol that keeps us chugging along when only a few years ago, the life expectancy of someone who had an ejection fraction like mine was five years or less. 

Long story to tell you that I'm the most compliant heart failure patient you ever met because I have stories to write! I just signed my sixth contract with Tule to write another four-book series, and there's another family in River's Edge who stories are simmering in my head, so I'll have another proposal for the editorial team soon. 

Life is funny, isn't it? I've been a writer my whole life, but a published author for a very short part of it. Fear kicked my writer ass when time suddenly became a very precious commodity. Mom would've loved author Nan--she'd have been my biggest cheerleader. I like to think she and sister Kate are watching over me...holding my heart in their hearts so I can keep going well past 71 years old!