The Late Bloomer at 56

At 1:38 a.m. today, I turned 56 years old. The thing is, I don’t feel fifty-six. Maybe this is because, for the past ten years, I’ve been writ­ing about char­ac­ters 16–17 years old and some of their sense of invin­ci­bil­i­ty has rubbed off on me. All I know is, it real­ly does­n’t seem pos­si­ble that forty years have passed since I was the age of Avery Craig and his friends.

Author Chris Orcutt cross-country skiingI think I’m doing pret­ty well for some­one 56. I have most of my hair and all of my teeth (well, count­ing a few implants). I just got back from the gym, where I climbed 90 flights of stairs (on the Stair­Mas­ter) in less than half an hour, and a cou­ple weeks ago, I cross-coun­try skied sev­en miles in two hours (in sub­ze­ro weath­er).

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, because of the cold weath­er, less activ­i­ty, win­ter depres­sion, and the amount of work I’ve had to do on Boda­cious­ly, I’m the heav­i­est I’ve been in years (I’m not telling you the num­ber), but I car­ry the weight well (even dis­tri­b­u­tion you might say), and I know that with spring around the cor­ner, I’ll drop twen­ty pounds in a cou­ple of months.

On the pos­i­tive side, with the excep­tion of occa­sion­al aspirin or ibupro­fen, I take absolute­ly NO med­ica­tion. Zero. Nada. Noth­ing.

I’m also 100% stone-cold sober and have been for nine years. Com­ing from a guy who used to love a dozen dif­fer­ent beers (includ­ing Stel­la Artois, the orig­i­nal Bass Ale, and the now-defunct Dock Street Pil­sner), chugged Mak­er’s Mark Ken­tucky Straight Bour­bon Whiskey for tooth abcess­es; par­tied with a tribe of Native Amer­i­cans in Mon­tana; got in a barfight in Old Port, Port­land, Maine; swilled cham­pagne and sang in the streets of Paris at mid­night with Parisians; and once bought a round for the house at every pub he vis­it­ed in Lon­don, Strat­ford Upon Avon, New­cas­tle, Glas­gow, and Inverness—this means some­thing.

But I’m most proud of where I am in terms of my writ­ing. At 56, and (rel­a­tive­ly) fit and sober, I’m at the height of my pow­ers as a nov­el­ist. At the risk of sound­ing immod­est, as I’ve been pol­ish­ing Episodes III through V of Boda­cious­ly for pub­li­ca­tion, I’ve been so impressed by so much of it that I can’t believe I wrote it.

Back in my 20s, I read that a writer’s most pro­duc­tive peri­od is from his mid-40s to his mid-60s, and here I am, smack in the mid­dle of that peri­od, and I can tell you, it’s true. Expe­ri­ence, sub­ject mat­ter, clar­i­ty of think­ing, tech­nique, emo­tion­al depth, phys­i­cal health, and lack of con­cern about what oth­er peo­ple think of me or my work—all cylin­ders are fir­ing at opti­mal effi­cien­cy. I’m doing my own thing, and I’m out where no one can touch me.

I’m unequiv­o­cal­ly a late bloomer.

After decades of hard work and strug­gle, I’ve final­ly reached MY time. This year and next are mine.

By Chris Orcutt

CHRIS ORCUTT is an American novelist and fiction writer with over 30 years' writing experience and more than a dozen books in his oeuvre. Since 2015, Chris been working exclusively on his magnum opus. Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome: The Legendary Adventures of Avery “Ace” Craig is a 9-episode novel about teens in the 1980s. It’s about ’80s teens, but for adults (in other words, it’s decidedly not YA literature), and he’s applied this epic storytelling approach to the least examined, most misunderstood, most marginalized narrative space in American literature: the lives and inner worlds of teenagers.

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