30Nov16 coming to the end

One week left in the semester then that long stretch till the next one. While I've learned much about the critical approach to writing my fictional skills have athropied.  I had to present to the class A simple rewrite of a very short story I wrote three years ago. It was a failure. I couldn't find the lanes and grooves needed to make the sentences flow. Lack of use.

Last paper is due nxt wk then it's on to another short story, one suitable for submission to the creative writing program.

 My last class in intro to grad studies was tonight. The topic of discussion revolved around the viability of a master's in literature as a means of making a living. I spent two hours weighing the pros and cons with the rest of the class.

Only now, two hours later, do i realize things are different for me. I'll be sixty two when I graduate. A Ph.D will take 3-4 years more. In the end the prospects of getting hired for any kind of work are slim.

Funny how fully you embrace some things. My end game must be a totally different creature. My stories will have to be the legacy. I've waffled back and forth all semester on weither to switch programs or not. Time seems to have helped things along.

The mood is dark but not bleak, just the normal down cycle. Don't you hate when that happens?