New Year's Resolutions I Probably Won't Keep

It's January, which means everyone's making resolutions, setting goals, declaring that this is the year everything changes.

I should probably do that too, right? As an author trying to build a platform, maintain a blog, and write a second book, I should have a plan, or even a strategy to inform a plan. Maybe even just a content calendar with a few placeholder topic ideas on it.

But I don't.

I can feel things shifting in ways I can't control, and pretending I'm going to stick to some ambitious writing schedule feels dishonest at best, delusional at worst.

The Paradox of "Finally Having Time"

Here's something nobody tells you about major life disruptions: Just because you have an unexpected glut of free time doesn’t mean that will align with having unbridled reserves of creative energy. In fact, it’s usually the opposite. It’s kind of maddening, if I’m being honest.

When your foundation is unstable—when you're dealing with job uncertainty, financial stress, the emotional whiplash of things falling apart—creativity doesn't rush in to fill the void. Anxiety, task paralysis, and the exhausting mental calculus of what happens next does.

So yeah, I might end up with more time on my hands soon, but I'm not naive enough to think that automatically translates to book-related (or any other kind of) productivity.

The Resolutions I'm Supposed to Make

If I were following the indie author playbook, here's what I'd commit to:

1. Write 1,000 words a day.

   Build the habit. Show up consistently. Finish Book 2 by June.

   
   

2. Post on the blog weekly.

   Keep the audience engaged. Build momentum. Maintain visibility.

   
   

3. Grow my platform.

   Get on social media. Network. Build an email list. Do all the things successful authors do.

   
   

4. Set measurable goals.

   Track progress. Hold myself accountable. Create timelines and stick to them.

That's what I should do.

But I'm not going to lie to you and pretend I'm going to do any of that.

What I'm Actually Committing To

Here's what I can realistically promise in 2024:

1. I'll write when I can.

   Not every day. Not on a schedule. But when the words come, I'll capture them. When inspiration strikes, I'll follow it.

   
   

2. I'll show up here occasionally.

   The blog won't go dark completely. but I'm not going to force posts just to maintain a cadence. If I have something to say, I'll say it. If I don't, I won't manufacture content.

   
   

3. I'll be honest about where I am.

   I'm not going to fake enthusiasm I don't feel or make promises I can't keep. If things are hard, I'll say so. If I go quiet for a while, it's not abandonment—it's survival.

   
   

4. I'll protect the work.

   Even if I'm not actively writing Book 2, I'm thinking about it. The story is still developing in the background. I'm not giving up on it—I'm just acknowledging that the timeline is uncertain.

   
   

That's it. That's the list.

Not exactly inspiring, is it?

The Unfairness of It All

You know what's frustrating? The people who tell you to "use the struggle as fuel."

I get it. You’re trying to be encouraging, supportive, sympathetic, but when struggle has been your status quo for so long that you can fill literal volumes (with more to come) and you haven’t even gotten past age 21 yet, that advice rings a bit hollow.

I don’t need more fuel. I need stability, safety, security…and I don’t have that yet.

When my life is unstable, my writing suffers. I can't access the creative headspace when I'm consumed by logistics, by worst-case scenarios, by the exhausting mental loop of what if and I resent the implication that I should be able to. That "real" writers push through because discipline should win.

Maybe that's true for some people but it’s not for me. Writing requires a baseline of stability I don't currently have and pretending otherwise doesn't help anyone.

What 2024 Might Look Like

I don't know what this year will bring.

Maybe I'll find my footing quickly and get back to writing sooner than I expect. Maybe the chaos will settle and I'll rediscover the creative energy I'm currently missing. Maybe Book 2 will happen this year after all.

Or maybe it won't.

I'm not abandoning Autumn's story. I'm not giving up on writing. I'm just acknowledging that sometimes life gets in the way, and forcing it doesn't work.

For Anyone Else Struggling

If you're an artist—writer, musician, whatever—dealing with life chaos right now, and you're feeling guilty about not being more creative, keep this in mind:

You don't owe the world a thing when you're barely holding yourself together.

Survival is enough. Getting through the day is enough. Keeping the dream alive in the background while you deal with the immediate crisis is enough.

The work will still be there when you're ready. The ideas won't evaporate. The story won't abandon you just because you had to step away for a while.

You're not failing. You're coping…and that's okay.

See You When I See You

So that's my "New Year's resolutions" post. Not much of one, I know.

I'll be here when I can. I'll write when it's possible. I'll keep Autumn's story alive even if I'm not actively working on it right now.

If 2024 ends up being a sparse year for the blog? Well, at least I warned you.

Thanks for sticking around anyway.