New Backpacks and Sharp Pencils

It's time for a refresh, and I'm doubling down

Did you notice a new title to this Substack? “Everyone Has a Story” had really good intentions—to unearth some great stories and share them. But my vocation changed and things happened and … mistakes were made (sorta). I enjoyed telling stories and feeding your story-hungry brain. But there’s more to my madness here.

I’ve been crafting a side hustle in fiction writing, then freelance editing, then public speaking. Then, online courses looked pretty shiny, and now I am back to writing in most of my spare time—but not fiction. I’ll say more about “The Last Book” project soon, but it’s taking shape.

Cycling through the list above was not about fickleness or attention span; it’s more building an actual business for myself in retirement. All of those facets are things I want to do. I took 2024 to study, do seminars, and read/listen/practice a whole lot of stuff to catch up. Sitting in one job for 12 years, doing the same thing over and over, with little innovation was smothering my ambition and creativity. (The stagnancy was for numerous extrinsic reasons—I love a good overhaul. New backpacks, fresh notebooks and sharp pencils are my jam). So here I am in new Keds with bright white laces. I can jump higher and run faster …

Why today? Several reasons: February 15 is Arizona Statehood Day, and in another life, I celebrated a couple of birthdays on this day.

February 15, 2025, marks my 66th year and 8 month birthday, which to the Social Security Administration is the date of MY OFFICIAL RETIREMENT. HOORAY!

Photo by John Prefer on Unsplash.com

But don’t get too crazy with the congratulations and travel-and-leisure-themed presents. I am still working and will continue to do so. Keep those W-2s coming! Both because I am not done being useful in this world, and also because I do enjoy having electricity, water, gasoline, as well as eating food and buying new Keds every now and then.

While the Meta ads tell me that “retiring with $1M is within my reach,” I laugh and laugh and laugh. Ok, investment company, save it for all those privileged folks who dodged Bernie Madoff, foreign currency exchange nonsense, and life-threatening, bankrupting medical issues. I ain’t hurting and I can still afford human-grade food, but there are no country clubs, leased BMWs, or second lakehouses in my future. I will be grateful to continue healthy, thrifty and wise ways into my 90s. (See you at the senior center craft club!)

Photo by Clayton Webb on Unsplash.com

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I am celebrating with this quiet re-launch of a more frequent newsletter/omnibus of writing, updates, photos and stuff that I’m tired of sharing on social media. I’ll soon figure out how the audio/podcast/video bits work as well. (Gotta brush my hair first.)

For now, I’m calling my business Jay Ann Cox Writing Works, and this publication too. There may be an epiphany involving punctuation or dazzling wordplay. But progress is better than perfection.

If we can’t have a good rousing text conversation, perhaps you will mutter something to your screen or post it in the comments. If you are reading this email, responding to it will go directly to my email … just like actual letter writing!

And subscribing is entirely up to you. I WILL be writing for my supper someday as I plan for the side dish to become the main enchilada (I think I just shifted the metaphor there). There will soon be PAID material, but I’m keeping the subscription price LOW LOW LOW. It’s about volume for a writer. With enough readers, a writer could become immortal. It’s still working for Shakespeare.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts. --Ophelia's flower speech, Act IV, Scene 5 of Hamlet.

Tomorrow, look for a piece of writing I did for work. I’m chuffed with it, and have permission to publish it as part of my portfolio.

In the meantime, please invite one person who likes some of the things that you like to subscribe. I’m halfway to my goal of 100 subscribers. Humble beginnings, humble goals. I’m more tortoise than hare these days.