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I went to high school with a wonderful writer, Elizabeth Cooney, who went on to write scores of best-selling young adult novels, including THE GIRL ON THE MILK CARTON. When I recently corresponded with her, I was shocked when she told me she’d “retired” from writing and was now happily living in a retirement community where she enjoyed playing water polo. Somehow, I thought of writers as folks who wrote until they’d taken their last breath. Apparently, not always!

As she releases her latest mystery, MURDER ON U.S. ROUTE 116, DonnaRae Menard shares her thoughts about an author who recently announced her retirement.

Retirement Parallel

by

DonnaRae Menard

An author who I have followed for years announced her retirement this year. My initial response was a screaming NO! followed by chest-beating and binge eating. When the Xanax kicked in, I got philosophical. Retirement is basically down-sizing, like getting ready to move out of the four-bedroom family home.

With both, you start with the out-layer, the easiest to recognize chore. Now that you’re shifting gears in your career, you discover those hours of the day you previously spent forcing your creativity into position. It’s like cleaning out the garage. You haven’t participated in outdoor sports in years. Haul off the skis, life jackets, and camp stove. Suddenly, the car fits in the garage. Who knew?

What’s next? Well, how about the six or seven conventions or seminars you attend every year? With a small amount of pondering, you identify the three you absolutely love, the ones your friends attend, and the presentations are off the norm. Oh, like the attic. You’re up there surrounded by boxes of ornaments from eleven different holidays, none of which have seen the light of day since Junior went to college. Baby furniture left from your youngest grandchild who is now twenty. You haul it all downstairs and end up with the same feeling of accomplishment you get when you’re seated at the banquet dinner after three days of kibitzing!

Ha, you say. Is there more? Yes, my friend, there is. There’s another little pigeonhole left from the good-old days. A duty that only sucked a few minutes of your every day, which is how you convinced yourself it was minor. How many committees do you sit on, board seats do you occupy, mentoring slots have your email, and websites are tuned into your vibe? Did you volunteer gladly, maybe helped out and never got released, or maybe you wanted to give back never expecting a garden to grow? Those responsibilities can weigh heavily at times, dragging you down, down, into the cellar. While you’re there, do you really need eight-hundred canning jars? How about if you call the kids and tell them they have stuff stockpiled and Goodwill is on the way.

Sprawled on the sofa, cold drink in hand, you bask in your ability to conquer your to do list. Now you are truly ready to enjoy retirement. Your toes are still in the water, but you’re feeling refreshed, ready to step out and enjoy. You might also have a few hundred dollars from the yard sale.

Don’t get me wrong, you haven’t severed the umbilical cord to all that you loved; you’ve merely identified the new parameters. If the urge comes upon you, Barbara, to scribble down a few lines here and there, we’ll be ready to receive them. Your destiny still flows smoothly; unlike the fact I am sitting in an 87-degree living room knowing I gave the air conditioner away.

 

BIO

DonnaRae Menard is a hybrid author with both self-published books and contracts with publishing houses. She is the author of three series and writes in multiple genres from cozy/caper to traditional to horror, as well as historical fiction and fantasy. She is currently working with Northwest Public Access TV recording her novel, BENEATH THE FOUNTAIN, for airing on their station and YouTube. DonnaRae has an affinity for odd jobs, rescued cats, and searching out new sites for her mysteries. Check out her website donnaraemenardbooks.com Find and follow her on Facebook and Blue Sky.

Tagline for DonnaRae Menard’s MURDER ON U.S. ROUTE 116:

They had never been friends, but now Monique was dead and Katie learned they had a common enemy.