New Year, new goals. That’s the way it goes, isn’t it? You reflect on all the things that have changed over the past twelve months, what worked, what didn’t, and resolve to do better in the next year. I’m starting this year by shifting the way I’m going to engage with the wider world.

A lot of things have changed over the past few months to force me to reconsider how I’m approaching everything from my writing career to my place in the world. What are my obligations to myself, to my art and my stories, but also, what are my responsibilities to my family, my community, my country, and the world in which I live?
If you’ve read any of my stories, you know this is a recurring theme. What do we owe each other as social and historical beings? Where do we fit into the world, and what does that require of us given our history, our legacies, our relationships? How do we serve one another without sacrificing ourselves?
I may approach the world this way because I spent so much of my early adulthood trying to live under the illusion that we are all independent creatures, trying to find our own way in the world. I went to grad school and worked in politics as a libertarian, defending the idea of individualism and free markets as the solutions to all of our ills. I believed that if everyone tended to their own needs, kept out of each other’s way, the world would be a better place, and everyone would do better.
I think many of us would like to believe that we are islands in a dispassionate sea, because it’s often easier to just focus on our needs, our own responsibilities and jobs. If we narrow our focus, keep our world small, the world seems a little easier, a little more controllable. We can reign in the chaos, maybe carve out a small section of the world to thrive in, and if we protect it with everything we have, we might be safe.
But the truth is we are not isolated. We are not individuals. We are so interconnected, and thinking of ourselves as singular does disservice to every part of our selves. If I want to thrive in this world, I can’t do it by walling off a small corner of it. I have to put myself out there, give back what I have learned, and stop building my cocoon.
I owe more to my community, but I also am owed more by my community. We don’t just belong to ourselves. We belong to each other. And it’s time we start acknowledging that.
It’s time I start acknowledging that.
So I’m reevaluating how I’m going to put myself out there. That involves my personal life as well as my professional one. I’m investing more in every aspect of my life, but I’m also going to be expecting more from the people in it.
For example, this year, I’ve gifted my husband 52 dates. I’ve planned out over 96 different date options, organized into a folder with the cost, the full plan, and even child care taken care of. We’re going to take time to focus on our relationship and communication, because we’ve been married fifteen years this summer and have known each other for twenty-seven. Any relationship can grow complacent after that much time, and we owe it to each other to have focused time. I’m also going to advocate for time for myself and pursuit of my independent goals of finishing three books this year, even if that means leaning on him more for support.
Beyond just tending to my kids’ needs and crazy schedules, I’m investing in more quality time with them. I already In addition to our dinner conversations, I’m engaging in weekly game night with my kids, and focusing on nurturing play and creativity in our daily lives. I’m also asking them to set aside time for me and my personal time. They have to respect my closed office door when I’m writing and help me with cleaning and even cooking. They’re old enough to take on more responsibilities around the house, and it shouldn’t just fall to me.
In my community, I already took on the role as my kids’ school’s PTA president, and that has been overwhelming to say the least. We’ve done more fundraising and established more programs to support our children than in any previous year at our school. We fought a school closure (and won a temporary stay), but we’ve helped celebrate our students in ways that have reminded them how special and important they are, even as the school district sends them the opposite message.
I’m going to continue to advocate for these students, but I’m going to be asking for more help. The past year has been only a handful of us managing to provide everything with only our labor. Part of this has been a communication issue. I don’t think our community is uninterested; I think they don’t know the ways that they can get involved on their own timetables and within their own capacity. I need to find ways that I can meet them where they are and get them to invest in their school. People want to help, and one of my main responsibilities is showing them how to do it.

As a writer, I’m going to do more as well. I’m currently writing new stories. I have three books I’m working on, including the third book in the Iron and Earth series for Falstaff books.
I’m planning to do more to share about my experiences. I’m going to resume blogging regularly on my website and recording short snippets to share on social media. I’m picking back up social media through BlueSky, Instagram, and maybe YouTube. It looks like TikTok is going to be gone in the coming year, but I have enjoyed my experiences with that platform, and hope I can continue to post short videos there in the future.
I’m also focusing more on actual writing. I have the third book in the Iron and Earth series outlined and will be starting to write it soon. I am also working on two new novels that I will get to shop around. One is a cozy fantasy that I’m describing as Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood meets The Craft. It’s called How to Start a Coven and is about a group of women discovering the power of adult female friendships. A friendship is magic story, if you will.
The other is a Southern Gothic romance I’ve tentatively titled What Lingers that is very Rebecca/Jane Eyre by way of a southern plantation with a continuing legacy of horror. It’s different from anything I’ve written before, but I’m really excited about it. I can’t wait to share more about it.
I hope you all will join my on this journey. And if not, well, shouting into the void can be cathartic, so it’ll at least serve me well to put this out there. If something void-like shouts back, then we’ll have ourselves a time.
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