Marching Plans (It's Not the Years, It's the Mileage)

Last day of the year. Just between us, I’ve had a pretty lousy one. I managed a few of my small goals, though mostly by accident, while the bigger ones had to be set aside to make room for looming responsibilities that just seemed to keep growing larger. Hydra-like, each time I knocked off a task or project, two larger and more difficult ones seemed to spring up in its wake. Where’s Captain America when you need him?

But none of this is going to keep me from planning out the year to come. I don’t do resolutions, but I do believe in coming up with a few goals and then figuring out the systems or habits I need to adapt in order to make them come to fruition. If your systems are good, and you stick to them, the goals will take care of themselves.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Have you been writing as part of my December Writing Challenge? I do actually try to keep up with the challenge myself each year. It’s not something I broadcast, but I do my best to get some writing done every day in December, a sort of practice-what-you-preach approach. It’s tough, but it also keeps me sane. This year there were a lot of morning pages, some regular journaling, and of course a newsletter or two. I would have liked to have written something a little more creative, but in keeping with the rest of this year’s general mood, I settled for what I could manage.

This is something I want to discuss. Acceptance. 2024, for me, was a year where I was forced to accept my own limitations. I tend to be the type of person who muscles through circumstances by sheer brute force. I decide I can manage to get all of the things done, and then I just plow forward until it happens, generally at the expense of sleep and exercise and downtime with friends. But this year I’ve been playing caretaker to my mother while attempting to get her condo in shape to sell. I juggled handymen and plumbers and mold remediation firms; I dealt with doctors and nurses and assisted living staff; I fought with banks and loan officers and realtors and HOA boards. I had absolutely no control beyond making the phone calls or writing the emails or filling out the forms. I lost sleep and struggled to read and felt like my own life was slipping through my fingers. Over and over, I could hear the airline safety announcement echoing in my ears: Secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

I spent the year gasping for air.

People who work in service industries tend to do so because they like to help others. The thing I love most about my job as a literary agent is making my clients’ dreams come true. Helping them polish their manuscripts. Telling them an editor loves their writing. Calling with an offer for publication. So you understand when I say that I hate nothing more in the world than the sensation of failing someone who relies on me for help. And having to accept that there is nothing I can do any differently, because I am not in control of the situation. I cannot roll back the clock and make my mother younger. I can’t magic away her arthritis or her poor balance or her failing short-term memory. And I cannot take care of her 24/7, because my own job takes time and work, and I cannot sacrifice one thing for the other. Though I’ve come close.

It's not my intention to depress everyone. What I want to stress, instead, is that life happens. It gets in the way of your goals. Responsibilities do not take into account that you really wanted to finish your novel this year, or send it out to agents, or apply for a cool writer’s retreat. Some years, your mother falls and hits her head and needs constant supervision. Or your partner suddenly blindsides you and asks for a divorce. Your year might get hijacked by a pandemic or a war or a terrible diagnosis. That’s how life works. It doesn’t ask permission; it just whacks you up the side of the head.

Have you been writing this month? This year? Or did you take a break? All the answers are fine. They are. You might regret how this year has gone, but don’t let that stop you from continuing on your path. Maybe you had an amazing year and accomplished all the things, and if so, I stand up and applaud you because that’s fabulous. Keep up the great work. But whether you’re riding that wave or feel like you’ve wiped out on the shore, I am telling you, keep going.

Tomorrow is the first day of a new year, but that doesn’t even matter. Tomorrow is a new day and a new chance, no matter what the calendar says.

Photo by Alex Azabache on Unsplash

Do you have goals? Do you know what you need to do to accomplish them? Figure that part out. Decide the steps you need to take, and take the first one tomorrow. If life gets in the way, take the step on the first day you can manage it, and then the next and the next. Those steps add up, day after day. Even if it’s not immediately obvious.

My 2025 holds a huge number of changes, some of which are my choice and some of which have already whacked me up the side of the head. But I will be here, writing to you all in this newsletter. I will be here, working to help my clients get their books into the world. I will be here, possibly doing a few new things as well, if the fates allow it. Because as much as I’d like to roll back my life to some previous version before everything went off the rails, I cannot go backwards. No one can. Only forwards.

Regardless, I will be here.

Wishing you all a very wonderful 2025, whatever it brings you. I hope you get to chase down a few dreams. Happy writing. See you in the new year. 🥂