I read this morning of an author who had his first novel published at the age of 81. I also know of a famous American author who retired from writing at the age of 28. All the writers I know personally will only stop wiring when they die.
Yet every other profession, even judges, have a retirement age, and if it's not a mandatory one, people will usually acknowledge that their career is over, at some stage. Why not writers?
During the last week, I knew that there were two days on which I would have the absolute freedom to do whatever I wanted, in a secluded spot, and I chose to spend the time reading. As my unread books had been stored in a damp place, I had to buy new ones and didn't have much time. A local charity shop sells second-hand books and when I visited, I found late novels by King and Grisham almost begging me to rescue them from the incredible rubbish all around them. I obliged.
I read the two books for pure enjoyment, but was disappointed. King was his usual elegant self, but his story was very similar to ones he had already told. Grisham was patently fed up with writing, his words were tired and the story uninteresting.
It was after reading those two long books I started to think of writers retiring, closing the circle when it became personal. I'm somewhere between 28 and 81, but I've been writing for a long time. My deep thinking was interrupted by my website manager wanting the yearly hosting fee for my author's site.
For the first time I hesitated for a whole day before paying it.



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