The happy place

I’m having some sort of mid life crisis; not 100% sure I wanna spend the remaining years of my life working as a Java developer. I’m not even sure it’s a valid career choice in the year 2525 when I’ve got enough pension saved up to retire.

I’m not sure I’ve got any other viable skills either: I can make edible food, and could write poetry (I think), and I can paint hands. (I am pretty good at mixing several different skin colours (one trick is I avoid using black to make it dark/paint shadows, but rather make a dark base colour like the darkest there is of what I want to paint which I make brighter and add different colours to depending on what I see)).

I best get started on my new book the masterpiece, I am not sure what it’ll be about but I’ve got a feeling that people will dub it a modern classic.

The snag being I’m not a very interesting person so it won’t be biographical, and I’ve got a poor imagination so it won’t be fiction, and I don’t know enough about anything to write any type of non fiction.

That’s really a snag right there.

Maybe that’s just a format problem. Maybe if I just start, one word will follow the next and before I know it there’s the masterpiece.

It’s gonna start with someone walking in heavy cold rain, like there’s this novel by Ray Bradbury about someone being out in the rain which is if I remember it perpetual, like that it will start, and then they seek shelter in a tavern, because they see that there’s a light and a chimney with smoke coming out of it, so they go there. (Like the tower of the elephant: many great stories start in taverns). And of course they have frog hands.

We’ll see what comes next.