A recent article claimed that “60% of Fortune 1000 companies will be out of business in just next 10 years“. I’ve been following up some of the points its author makes. Here’s an excerpt.
Posts by Peter Grant
We’ve all heard authors complain that their characters sometimes go off at a tangent, in a direction vastly different to what they’d intended, developing themselves in new and unusual ways, growing more than planned until a minor character can become a major protagonist, and so on. I’ve made similar comments myself, as a book goes off the rails of my carefully-scripted plot, and I’m left haring after its hero and/or villain, shouting, “Come back! Who told you you could do that? Stop, I say!”
I’ve been getting back into writing and creative thought again, after several months of major disruption caused by ill health. After much poking, prodding, testing and experimentation, I’ve substituted certain medications for others, which has helped reduce (although not eliminate) the mental block I was experiencing.
As I become accustomed to the new medications and revised dosages of old ones, my creative abilities are coming back into focus – for which duly grateful thanks to the Almighty, the doctors, my very patient and tolerant and supportive wife, and all others concerned. I’m halfway through writing a new fantasy novel, and I’m greatly enjoying feeling the ideas flow once more. I’ve missed them.
The recent wildfires in California have devastated an entire city. Paradise, CA was so completely destroyed that it may never be rebuilt. Those who lived there have mostly lost everything, because the fire moved so quickly that there was no time to pack important belongings before evacuating. Even fireproof safes turned out to be not fireproof enough. One person lost his life savings when the safe holding the money was subjected to such intense heat that its contents “turned to unrecognizable dust“.
In early August, I experienced a medical issue that necessitated a quick trip to the emergency room. I wasn’t impressed with the doctor on duty, who took a very alarmist view of my symptoms and (rather dramatically) announced that she was going to admit me for treatment of a particularly nasty and life-threatening condition. I didn’t believe her diagnosis, and didn’t think she was right, so I refused further treatment that day. I had to sign the obligatory form, of course, acknowledging that I was leaving against her advice and accepted the risks involved. It contained the rather dramatic warning that I risked death by doing so. Having previously risked death in a rather large number of ways over many years, I wasn’t terribly impressed by the official histrionics…