"At my age it is unseemly to be pessimistic," said Arabic writer Naguib Mahfouz. He was 83, and had been stabbed twice in his neck (but not fatally) for writing Children of the Alley, considered blasphemous.
I'm not quite as old as Mahfouz, but I shun pessimism, too. The instant I think, "I'm getting old," I lickety-split substitute, "I'm alive! alive! alive! alive! alive!"
Life. What a windfall!
P. S. I plan to die sitting at my desk writing out my next book, as writer Jim Harrison did.
* I thank Garrison Keillor and his December 11, 2016 "The Writer's Almanac" for inspiring this little blog of mine.
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