Don't Call It a Resolution: Part II

I've dreaded writing this post since I wrote my New Year's declaration last year. 

In January of 2024, I boldly declared that it would be the year I would finish my book.

It was a little ambitious.

It did not happen. 

So here I am, tail between my legs, owning up to my failure. 

I could fill this blog with excuses or updates about my lingering writer's block, but no one wants to read that.  

Instead, I want to do what I do best here, to ground myself in my writing by remembering why I decided to write a book in the first place.

The crazy thing about writing a book is you have to be insane enough to believe you can do it.

Sometimes, I feel a little self-conscious when I tell people I'm working on my memoir.  I mean, the premise of writing one is that you believe your life is fascinating enough for other people to care. 

 "Who am I to write a freaking book?"  I ask myself often.  

But somewhere beneath my crippling insecurities is a belief that my story has value. 

On the corner of my laptop, I have a little sliver of a Post-it note that says, "women looking to recover."

I added it to my then-new, precious laptop when I first purchased it in the fall of 2022.  It was a reminder to myself of who I was writing for: "women looking to recover," who might find inspiration in my story.  

That's why I'm writing. 

I genuinely believe my words could be of value to another woman seeking recovery, and so I'm putting them down on paper.

Slowly, but surely.

This year, despite not finishing my book, I made progress on it unlike ever before.  It started coming together, morphing from a dream and some rough drafts into an outline with chapters.  

I'm so excited about how it's coming to fruition, and I feel like it's really happening.  I just have to be patient and trust the process.

So last week, when my writing group set goals for the New Year, I was a little more subdued. 

Yes, obviously, it would be great to finish my book this year.  But I've learned my lesson and I'm not making any bold declarations for 2025.

Instead, I set some small, attainable objectives for the first few months of the year. 

I still don't want to call them resolutions, but "goals" is a word I'm comfortable with.

Like last year, a simplification of my goals would be to write more.

In fact, let's run with that simplicity: 

In 2025, I will write more.  

I look forward to sharing some of it with you. 

Happy New Year!