So, about this time of year folks in general, and especially those in the blogosphere, tend to put up year in review posts, or best of the past year posts, or bold, vivid declarations for what they hope the next year will hold and what goals they’d like to accomplish. I am no different. I know there are plenty of people who find new year’s resolutions hollow, who find marking the passage of one year into another a false statement or a socially constructed bit of pomp and circumstance. I get that. I’ve had that year. Heck, I’ve had a lot of those years if I’m going to be entirely honest with you, gentle readers, but, that hasn’t been this year.This has, for the most part, been a marvelous year.
At the end of 2013 I laid out some goals. Some I’ve stuck to. Some I’ve failed at miserably. I made the traditional health goals. Weight loss. Better eating. All that. I’d done quite well at these goals in both ’11 and ’12 losing approximately 85 lbs. I’ll be honest with you guys, I’ve gained about twenty of that back. On bad days I feel terrible about this. On good, I accept that it is, and that it’s in my power to change if I wish to. On the best days, I don’t beat myself up for the fact that I am an overweight person. Those are good days. I wish I had more of them. So, in the interest of that desire, I’m not going to put a number on my health goals. I’m going to strive to love myself the way I am and to have the strength to change if I decide I’d love myself more at a smaller size. That seems doable.
The other big goal I made last year was to write 1k every day, and on that front I’ve been wildly successful. I ended 2013 with a wispy, barely 50k, slip of a first draft. I spent all of this year building that up, tearing it down and building it up again. There’s been a lot of false endings. A lot of heartbreak and soul searching. A hell of a lot of angst. But I wasn’t sure if I was a “real writer” at the end of 2013. Sure, I’d written a thing, but anyone can string fifty thousand words together if they mean to. It does not necessarily a writer make.
In 2014, I rewrote my novel from the ground up. I put it through multiple rounds of beta readers and small scale revisions. I entered contests. Sent out query letters. Got full requests and rejections. I found wonderful friends, critique partners and community. I learned, by the end of the year, that my book was not nearly as done as I’d imagined it to be, and now I’m revising from the ground up again armed with all the things I’ve learned about myself and my craft. I hope to be done with this round of revisions in the next month. Of course I said I’ve wanted to be done at the end of each month since I started this round ten weeks ago. The truth? The book will be done when it’s done and no amount of rushing will get it there any faster. Another hard thing I’ve learned this year is how to be patient.
If I were to set writing goals for 2015, and I should, I’d say to keep on keeping on. I’ve developed some decent habits in 2014. I don’t necessarily write 1k a day, but the days I do write make up for the days I don’t. I’m going to finish Silverblood and have it read again. I’m going to make is as perfect as I can before I start querying again. I’m going to work on new projects and continue to grow as an artist. I’m going to find a way to balance my work with my life as a wife and a parent and a person who lives in the world. Lofty goals? Maybe.Worth doing? Absolutely. Regardless, I am ready for the new year and all it may bring.