"As a young thumper I thought there were only two ways to retire; to be taken out feet first or to become to old to matter. I didn't know the third way meant becoming too good at one job, rebuilding your skill set in ever more specific ways to find no one needed your speciality anymore. So here I sat looking into the night above the ocean, sword in hand, the smell of decaying life filling my being. My life caught on a career pivot point, facing a quiet death in obscurity. All out of my control."
Debating between the other twenty or so things clamoring for time if I should rewrite Bladesman to be more explicit instead of explaining the situation and expecting the reader to grok the subtext. On one hand, I could make it so much better. And c) one form of writer's death is to rewrite the same thing over and over.
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