Combining two prompts for today. The first, from Meredith: Letting Go: What do you need to let go of to cultivate your best life in 2013? and the second, from Kat:  What will you take with you?


If you only knew how many times I've started this prompt today. I've written about everything from daily habits to my dismal lack of a workout routine to things I can't even bring myself to admit I was writing about. And I came back in circles, each and every time, to the realization that I'm a fraud for trying to conquer these questions.

Because every year I vow that this is the year that 'things will be different.' I'll treat myself well by going to sleep early and fueling myself with whole, healthy foods. I vow to read more books, watch less TV, do my best to be super mom and super-everything while making dinners from scratch and keeping an immaculately clean house.


So the answer I came up with? It's not even about leaving something behind or bringing something along; it's more about honoring the shift and transition of what I write and why, and learning more about this craft I've fallen so deeply in love with.

I was lucky enough this past year to have an agent ask me to send a synopsis and proposal of one of my projects. And she liked it. What she didn't like was my blog. Ok, she didn't actually say that. What she said was that she couldn't tell who I was really, from my blog, and was worried that the projects I'm working on would be too much like what I write about here (cupcakes, how lucky I feel to be a mom to my kids and how I wish I wasn't so darn round). 

By reading that, and giving it time to sink in, I realized that while I am a good writer I am not necessarily good at the business of writing. I don't know how to format a book for publication nor do I know what a 'real' synopsis and proposal should look like. I certainly don't know how to package myself so that an agent is interested and I haven't yet 'claimed' my identity as what I am. 

A writer.

So I hope to shed  the trepidation I sometimes feel when people ask me what I do and instead be able to confidently–and proudly– say 'I AM A WRITER'. I want to not feel embarrassed when they  ask what I write, or when they seem disappointed that I'm not purposefully working on America's next great novel (because, believe me, fact is definitely stranger than fiction) and instead be proud of my story, my words and my books. 

I see changes in 2013; in this blog, in my focus, in my direction. But I don't see a change in the core of what I do or why, because I can't imagine that I will ever become disillusioned with the power of story and the seduction of words.