The Next Act

Or, I Want to Live the Real Life

F. Scott Fitzgerald, in the notes for his unfinished novel “The Last Tycoon,” famously wrote, “There are no second acts in American Lives.” This supremely cynical line is often misquoted as “Everyone gets a second act.” I could write an entire essay on this topic – Fitzgerald’s state of mind when he wrote that line, his genius and how he squandered it, the state of celebrity in the US, and so on. Suffice it to say that he proved himself wrong, and achieved his own second act, albeit after his death. That all said, being able to reinvent oneself for a second – or third, or fourth… – act is something that seems quintessentially American to me. There are countless stories of people who failed at one thing, only to rise to success at another. Or those that endured multiple failures, but persevered until they ultimately succeeded. And those who moved from one vocation to another.

One of my favorite such stories is Alan Bradley. After a long career in radio and television, including 25 years as the Director of Television Engineering at the University of Saskatchewan, Bradley took an early retirement to try his hand at writing. At the tender age of 71 he became a sensation with “The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie,” the first of the Flavia de Luce mystery series (a favorite of my wife and daughters). No matter your stage of life, stories like this – or Abraham Lincoln persevering through multiple election losses, or Michael Jordan recovering from being cut from his high school basketball team – should serve to inspire us.

And I hope they do. Some of us aren’t getting any younger, as the saying goes; or as John Mellencamp puts it, there’s less days in front of the horse than riding in the back of the cart. It doesn’t matter. It’s never too late. New adventures await, and stories old and new need to be told. And so, the time is ripe to move on to… – PAT

The Next Act

Or, I Want to Live the Real Life

I celebrated a birthday recently. This is not a particularly bid deal – they do happen with alarming regularity – but this seemed to be a more momentous occasion to me than did, say, 50, or 40, or any of the other milestones we traditionally mark. Those milestones were hard to take note of, with the kids still at home, extracurricular activities, and, of course, work.

Fifty-five seemed momentous at the time, but maybe my feelings over that number were merely a manifestation of my inner Sammy Haggar. But to hit 60, and then, gulp, to surpass it… well that did indeed seem momentous. Perhaps it’s thinking, as I once heard David Bowie say, if I’d known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself.

Whatever the reason, it has been occasion for some introspection, including contemplation of my next act. I could expound for pages on how we got here; growing older, the life changes associated with an empty nest, and so on; but I will spare you that (for now) and skip to the end. I’ve decided to devote serious attention to something that I’ve toyed with off an on since I was very young – telling stories.

I love stories, and always have. In the tiny town I grew up in, the public library was in an old house, and we visited that house often. The first thing that greeted you upon entering was a long low shelf filled with a collection of gray hardback books, with red and blue binding and gold embossed lettering. The collected works of Zane Grey, and I’m pretty sure I read every one of them. My early years were spent with stories of cowboys and horses, intermingled with the Hardy Boys, who also filled the shelves of that old library.

It wasn’t long before I discovered the science fiction section and embarked on adventures with Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Isaac Asimov, and Arthur C. Clarke. I met Bilbo Baggins, John Carter of Mars, and Conan the Barbarian at an early age. Summer vacations were spent in places like Narnia, and the spice world of Arrakis, which included my first giddy ride on a sandworm.

When I was a teen-ager, my uncle informed me that there were worlds outside of science fiction, and first introduced me to Jason Bourne, who later led me to Jack Ryan. Tales of spies and espionage behind the Iron Curtain, especially those set in the Soviet Union enthralled me.

My college roommate, upon finding that I was a literary snob and had never read Stephen King, handed me a copy of “Night Shift,” opened to “The Last Rung on the Ladder.” This remains my favorite short story ever and has shaped how I judge good story telling.

Again, I could go on and on. My love affair with stories continues, whether it’s novels, short stories, personal anecdotes, history, or just tall tales and war stories told over a cup of coffee or a few beers. Over the years, I’ve accumulated reams of notes, snippets of ideas, finished and un-finished stories, and a brain filled with words. Long story short, it’s time to set them free.

I have no idea where this will lead, if I will have the gumption to see it through, or if I even have anything worthwhile to say. But like my friend Yoda says, there is only do. And so I will do, and I invite you on this journey. As you may be aware, I’ve been working on a novel since my retirement in 2024. While this takes up much of my writing life, there are other side projects I’ve been working on.

Starting next week, I’ll be posting one new short story a month. Over the next months, and hopefully years, I will be throwing something new out into the void of the interwebs. If we’re both lucky, maybe one of those stories will put a smile on your face, or bring a tear to your eye, or maybe give us all a little hope that maybe the world isn’t so dark after all.

This will be a journey, a road of sorts. A “Story Road,” and I would like to invite you along for the ride. If you’re not already subscribed, you can join for free. I hope you do, and I look forward to your feedback, good or bad.

P.A. Tennant – January, 2026

Soli Deo Gloria

--------------------

Photo: P.A. Tennant

Copyright 2026 Paul A. Tennant

Substack:

Website:

https://patennant.com/