#wingingit

I’m feeling the crunch.

In a little over three weeks The Alpha’s Dream will be live and ready for the world.  I’m excited, and terrified, and exhausted. All the things I thought I would be over-ish by now. Turns out, I was lying to myself. Not a habit I want to continue, so I’ll put that on my list of habits to break this year.

I make a lot of list.

Whatever it takes, right? Whatever it takes.

I’ve spent the last several months working my behind off to create The Alpha’s Dream. I love my work. I’m really happy with it…mostly. Lol. I don’t know that there will ever be a day where there won’t be something that I want to tweak about it.  Such is life as a writer. I hope I never lose the hunger for creating stories and then for making them better. It’s all part of my ever expanding dream.

It will continue to grow.

The closer I get to the end of this or rather the middle, the more attached I get to my characters. Their needs have grown with my understanding of them. They expand, and I relish their expansion.

I love that my hero, Nathaniel, is sure of himself, until his heroine, Euphoria, forces him to examine his most hidden resentments. I love that Euphoria doesn’t try to change him, and instead makes whatever uncomfortable choices she has to in order to keep them both in their comfort zone. It doesn’t work, because they want each other too badly. The fact is, when you are made for someone, attempting to walk away from that will never end well. It takes a little transformation and a lot of faith to come out happily ever after.

This book has become so many things for me. Hope. Labor of love. Confirmation. Affirmation, and so on and so forth. I have learned more about myself as I’ve crafted its pages than I intended too. That’s a good thing. What we love should reveal us to ourselves.

I hope everything I write has that effect on me. After all, there is nothing more dangerous than a settling into complacency. I don’t want to be the author who simp,y cranks out books with no regard as to their effects. I strive to keep that true always.

I want you to enjoy my book. I want you to read and re-read it because the story is good, and the love is real, and it reminds you of something you’ve wanted or have. I want you to come back for me. As we continue on this voyage together, I want you to know that my heart is in it.

 

Joy.

#Firstreleasefrenzy

In four weeks and one day, I will be releasing The Alpha’s Dream.

It feels surreal to even type that. It isn’t that I haven’t published before, but a pen name is very different from my actual name. ThE anonymity that comes from a pen name created some separation. My actual name doesn’t. It feels like I have a lot of proving to do.

So many things are going through my head when I look at the pages in front of me. The long nights I spent croctched over my keyboard, the endless doubts of whether it’s good, and all the time I’ve missed wiht my little loves in order to write come down to this.

In theory, the journey is the point. Writing is my passion. The Alpha’s Dream could flop and I would still wake up with stories to tell. However, I still want my passion to pay the bills. There is still so much to do. I have to finalize my second draft and get it to my editor. Hopefully, she’ll return it with few edits, because it is mostly perfect. 😍 More than likely, I’ll be down to the wire getting it ready for release date. I do ;t mind. I worked hard for my clients, and I can work hard for me.

My fears aren’t that the book isn’t enjoyable. I love it, but again I am biased. I want to crawl into hte pages with my characters and walk them through the choices they are making. After all, so much of being th author is just about- ushering my characters to the ledges they need to jump from. I don;t make th e hoices about what happens to them, they  do.

The Alpha’s release is no different.

Nathaniel and Euphoria have a ton of internal doubts to work through in order to have a successful relationship. They have to be grave, to rewrite the narrative of their lives as far as relationships are concerned. It will not be easy. It won’t even be moderately difficult. It will be hard. The realizations they will come too will challenge everything they’ve believed about themselves as lovers.

In much the same way, writing The Alpha’s Dream has challenged me. Iv’e had to relinquish thoughts of inadequancies. I’ve had to unravel all the doubts, find their roots and pluck them up. I’ve had to examine my motivations for writing and what I hoped to accomplish through my work. Whatever the outcome, this is a dream manifesting and I don’t take that for granted.

Joy

#BlackRomance

As I have mentioned before, I have been in love with romances all of my life. I have vivid memories of locking myself in my parents bedrooms and reading the forbidden love novels while my parents were at work. It left its mark on me.

Now, as I embark on a career that brings me to do what those authors did for me, I find myself thinking of the multitude of voices that influence my desire to write. It took a minute, but I was able to narrow my list down to five AA romance authors who’ve consumed hours of my life with their works. My reasons for loving them individually are just as differing as their respective voices.

I wanted to share them with you, because I still love them. I still lock myself away to read their newest works. I think it important to give voice to those who’ve influenced us. I hope to learn some authors who’ve influenced you too.

In full disclosure, this list is no way exhaustive or in any order. I couldn’t dare quantify what these people mean to me one over the other. Just know they still my breath, make me squirm and giggle, as well as swoon. I fall in love with their characters. I hate their villains and rush through chapters when things get too intense. I’ll never get enough of them.

 

Brenda Jackson

No one writes a series like Brenda Jackson. The Madaris’, the Westmorelands, the Grangers’ all of them are good enough to eat. I’ve hoped from one series to another then back again and I love every one. The endings are always a little rushed for me, but ultimately I still fall for them. I know my happily ever after is coming and I stand on my tip toes waiting for it from her.

Zane

If there is anyone who knows how to pour on the heat it is Zane. She made it a thing to talk openly about our sexual desires and I was loving it. HEr characters were true to themselves. Even when they were looking for approval, they knew their own identities. I love it. I love it. I love it. As long as she’s writing those sexy stories, I will be a happy reader.

Eric Jerome Dickey

This was the first male author who convince me he knew anything about women. I love his stories. I like how they are a combination of street colloquialisms and romance. His characters are flawed, and honest as they fumble through their love lives. His dialogue feels true to form and his endings are not always predictable. Romances a aren’t just for women and he proves that over and over again.

Francis Ray

I came late to the Francis Ray party, but I never want to leave. Her descriptive story telling paints the scene. Her characters are twisted, or incredibly flawed, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t sometimes broken. The vulnerability in her writing sends me through highs and lows that are often unpredictable. She  comes to a happily ever after, but there are always moments where I hold my breath and hope for the best. Her smooth, descriptive writing is something I hope to have in my own work. I always go back to her when I  have a weekend I want to feel with a carefully unfolding romance.

Donna Hill

I was first introduced to Donna Hill through the Black Expressions Book Club. I have loved her ever since. Her books are generally smooth reading. There might be a hiccup or an uncomfortable situation, but nothing that feels insurmountable. When all I want is a love story, I turn to Donna Hill. Her characters are genuine and heroines stand on their own. Her heroes are strong, driven, and now what they want. It rarely takes more than a couple of hours, if that to get through one of her books. Sometimes, that is all I need.

I can’t possibly imagine I ma introducing any of you to any of these authors, but if I am pick up anything they’ve written and dive in. I would love to know what you find. Who are your favorite authors? Leave a comment below.

 

Joy.

 

#Therearelayerstothis

No. I don’t write Urban Fiction. I write African-American Romances.

Yes, there is a difference.

As everything does, the African-American romance genre has grown. When I was a girl and first getting into romances there was only one name for the genre. It encompassed any romances that included A.A characters as the driving leads. The list of authors was constantly growing and the different styles were developing write under my nose. I loved it then, I love it now. So when it was time for me to write for myself using A.A. romance novels as my foundation was ideal.

As I have gotten older, I’ve watched the genre make room for more. The rise of Urban Fiction came as a surprise for me. Suddenly there was another outlet, another expression of A.A. romance in its various forms. I tried to get into it, but found myself feeling like an outsider. I was trying to interpret something that I didn’t have a base line to understand. Urban Fiction had almost all the elements that I loved about old-fashioned A.A. romances, but there was something more. There is a deeper edge to everything about urban fiction.

The language is coarser, the settings and circumstances center around a more street lifestyle. The methods and motivations of the characters to get what they wanted felt more cutthroat. I grew up in the woods in a home my stepfather built us. The love written between the pages  of Urban Fiction I could relate too. I have a hard time with everything else.

I keep reading anyway. When I discuss being a writer, even before getting to the shifter angle, there are questions about my work. Urban Fiction has become the unofficial face of black romance. Which leads to some explaining when I say I don’t write it for myself. I’ve ghostwritten several, but that is the extent of it. I know women who swear by it, who race out for the next bestsellers. I’m not one of them.

However, when I look over the landscape of romance writing, I love all the voices that are making their way. Representation is so important. Having someone who gets where you are from and your experiences mirrored back in something like leisure reading is fun and inviting. It is a welcomed sight. It is as it should be and kudos to those who saw the need and filled it.

The romantic lives of black people and people of color in general has almost always been presented as either something taboo or something one-dimensional. It is important that we as writers make room for more voices to demystify the layers of relationships and how they are created within our communities. To show the world at large there is no one way to quantify loving. It exists in its own forms both similar and differing everywhere the sun touches.  I don’t write Urban Fiction, but I am thankful for its existence. Just as I needed the old-fashioned A.A. Romances, so did those who read and love Urban Fiction. I’m forever here for that.

Comment below with your favorite Urban Fiction books and authors. I’d love to hear some of your reviews.

Joy.

#shiftersmateforlife

My husband is one of the reasons I write romances. He is the absolute love of my life.

When I first met my husband we were both poets enjoying a vibrant and inviting spoken word scene in the city we live in. I was a naïve, very green, little woman. He was a self-assured, smart, and inviting man. I enjoyed his gregarious nature, and his ability to work seamlessly within whatever crowd there was to be navigated. He could shift into whomever the moment called for and it would still be his authentic self. It still amazes me. It would take years for our very casual friendship to turn into anything more.

We were and still are, polar opposites of each other. His wild, extroverted, Gemini heart is  downright terrifying to my sedated, introverted, Virgo spirit. Yet, we exist. We thrive together because he makes my soul happy. We push toward lives that neither of us could have predicted out of an unrelenting need to hold on to what we have in each other.

He is quiet strength and a complex, brilliant mind. He is a loving father, the kind who stands back patiently until needed/wanted. He is full of stories. Some of them are quite extravagant, but mostly true, versions of lives he’s lived. Most days, I feel like a bystander watching his brilliance unfold.

That isn’t to say we are without failures, and utter disappointments.  We’ve been married for ten years plus. For all the days that I felt awestruck by his human complexity, there are numerous days that I have felt foolishly in love. There is plenty of heartbreak between those years, but we continue. We always find our way back to each other.

“Having him here reminds me of who I am.”

Isn’t that what romance is? Sweeping, inspiring ways to tumble into another flawed person, and layered methods of navigating their flaws? For me it is. For me, my marriage to my husband is one of the best ways to explore romance on a realistic level. When I think of us, there is always a wrinkle in our relationship.  Yet, when he isn’t here with me I am lovesick. It doesn’t matter if it is errands, work, or any circumstances. Having him with me reminds me of who I am.

As I think of my characters, I think of he and I. I think of how we’ve learned each other over the years. I think of the layers we pull back to show ourselves to each other. I think of the ways we’ve healed each other and the new scars we’ve created. I think of how even at the worst of our lives together, we’ve always managed to come out together. I think of the gratitude we feel for each other.

I work to transfer those things into my characters. I want them to know the struggle of having the one you love. It doesn’t mean constant chaos or even perpetual bliss. It means uncovering, delving into who they are so that they are prepared for love in its various forms. I want them to know that finding “the one” doesn’t mean there won’t still be work to do. Every love, needs room to grow. Every partner needs the willingness to make room. There is always more to learn and outlive about the person you love.

Shifter romances lend themselves easily to this premise. The shifter is often keeping a bit of a secret, something of himself from his lover. It isn’t meant to be deceptive in my writing. It is a tool, a type of self preservation. Being a shifter comes with numerous intricacies and a woman who is looking to share her life with one most be adaptable. She must know when to give and when to take. She must be brave and as strong, and fearless of her lover. their place in the pack is critical to it’s survival. So, I work hard so that these qualities are shown. Let them be resilient. Let them fight for what they love, brave the wild of their own fears. when it is all said in done, let them do it for love.

I don’t know if this is a great method for writing just as I don’t know what will happen with my marriage to my husband. I know that right now, all that we are goes into my work. I have his support. I have characters I love. Both of these things are shaping my life into one that I love. My heart spills open  with joy because of it. Shifters mate for life. It is no different for me.

When you read my work, I hope you are able to see a little of you and your lover in its pages too. I hope your happily ever after is just as vibrant and real as these. I hope it lasts your lifetime.

Comment below on some of the things the shifter in your love moves you to feel.

Joy.

 

 

 

#amediting

Nathaniel Blanchard isn’t looking for a relationship, let alone a mate. In fact, he is in the process of ending one relationship that is more trouble than it was ever worth. Determined to shift gears and turn all of his attention to his new company, he’s sworn to keep his distance from women.

When Euphoria Atkins walks into his office as a potential employee, she literally transforms the energy of the room. Nathaniel feels a connection to her unlike any he’s ever had with anyone. When his wolf insists they hold on to her, Nathaniel isn’t so sure.

What follows is a tension filled journey that will force both of them to face an unlikely future that neither is certain they want.

If you’ve been following along, you know that I am in the process of editing my first official release. The snippet above is about all I can share right now, but as we get closer to my release date I’ll give you guys a little more. This post isn’t about the plot, but the edit.

For the life of me, I can never get through an edit without feeling like I should scrap the whole thing and start over. It’s no different with this one. Normally when working with my clients,  I would make tweaks to give the story more fluidity and depth without major apprehension. I’m less likely to get attached to ideas that aren’t working and can see the inconsistency’s easily. It’s the opposite while working exclusively for myself.

There are so many things that don’t work, but I want to keep anyway. My attachment to the story as it is makes it even more difficult to smooth out the story. I’m going to have to get over that sooner than later. My aim is a great piece of shifter romance. I don’t need a few interesting pieces in the middle of a broken plot just for sentiments sake. It’s a process determining what to chop and what to work through. Nonetheless, I’m determined to get it right before crafting a second draft and sending it to my editor.

I’m excited by the reality that I am within a few short weeks of the realization of a dream. I think it is like that for all of us who dream long and vividly. There is a sense of pride for having come so far and a resurgence of motivation to stay the course. I’m looking forward to the final copy and the knowledge that despite everything, I’ve done this. I’ve created what I set out to create. I can hardly wait.

Nathaniel and Euphoria are facing a long journey together. What do you think it is? Leave your hypothesis in the comment section below.

Joy.

 

 

 

 

#Mamaauthor

My husband and I have been married for ten years (eleven years in August.) My husband and I suffered three miscarriages and immeasurable heartache in the five years we were actively trying to conceive. My husband and I couldn’t afford fertility treatments. If it were going to happen it was going to be the old fashion way. (It did…eventually.) My husband and I are expecting our third child in three years in May. My husband and I adore our little ones.

However, being an author is hard. Not where you thought this post was going? Bear with me. It all comes full circle.

In conventional ways, being a mother and being an author overlap each other by way of time. If I have time to write one of two things have happened. Either my husband has taken our darlings and whisked them away so I can have some quiet time or it is after hours, they are sleeping, and I should be too. To describe the oddity of waking up to the sound of your fingers typing is to live outside your body at all times.

There. I admitted it. I’m a sorceress. I can wrestle with house and husband and children all day and write romance stories in my sleep. Of course that would be first draft, pre-edit writing. What can I say? There are limits to my powers.

As I write this, there is a little darling nursing themselves to sleep in my lap. I should be weaning and I am sort of. Also, I should be editing, and I am. Sort of. Story of my life really.I am always trying to find the delicate balance between getting the job done directly in front of me and the one just inches from my face. Multitasking has its perks, but it also has its pitfalls. Namely everything always feels almost finished in my world, but not quite done.

I am not always up to embracing the challenges that come from mothering and authoring. Mainly, because I’m exhausted. I never feel like I’m doing it right, and at least half the time I’m just doing something I read somewhere. I’m not going to be too hard on myself about that. I read some really good shit.

I’ve had to learn that winging it is absolutely as powerful as knowing exactly what must be done and doing it. As knowing what must be written and writing it.  I’ve had to learn that somethings don’t balance the way you want them to, but there is growth in juggling. I’ve realized that it is okay to take two hard things and admit they are hard while still getting them done.

When the doctor told me my first born existed, I was in denial.  I called him a liar and spent the next fourteen weeks in disbelief. It was a similar experience when I was first encouraged to write for a living. I knew the work I’d put in silently to have these dreams come true, and it felt like I was being mocked to have someone tell me they were possible.

I’ve failed so many times. I would see the finished line only to have it extended another hundred miles. I didn’t want to hear that it would happen in time or keep going or any of the anecdotes and phrases that currently keep me alive.I wanted something tangible to convince me that what I desired could be real.

Here I am touching them both.(Finally.)  Albeit, I am definitely becoming more successful at one than the other at a much faster pace. 😉

I say all this, because today has been difficult. This last week has easily cemented itself as one of the hardest of my life. I’ve had to sit quietly and come clean with myself on a slew of very personal things. I questioned whether I should be doing this-right now.  Motherhood is permanent for me, but authorhood was on the verge of elimination. When I am crumbling, I have to get light. This is my way.

At the end of the day, I had to buck up. I had to think of how long I’d been fighting for the reality that I am living right now. I had to remember, everyday I am living an ideal life that I wanted and didn’t achieve until now.  The reality is I’ve waited too long for the opportunities that I am seeing unfold. I don’t want my unraveling to destroy all that I am working to build.

Then, there is the matter of my children. The is the matter of what I want them to believe about their mother and about life. We don’t give up, just because something is hard. I say that to them all the time. Particularly, my eldest who is fascinated by everything but sometimes intimidated if she doesn’t get it on the first try. I need them to see that difficulty is sometimes the catalyst we need to release fear and get it done.

So I fight through my uncertainty, my anxiety, and depression. I venture forward to prove it can be done. That I an survive my own thoughts and accomplish something great.

I am #mamaauthor. I am two thins I once believed I would never be and it is terrifying. It is also beautiful and it motivates me to keep believing impossible things can happen.

Joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

,

#WIP Status Report: The Alpha Dream

If you’ve been following along, you’ve noticed that I’ve finally printed for edits my debut novella. It even has a name, The Alpha Dream or The Alpha’s Dream. I don’t know which one will show up on the cover yet, but you get the idea.

As we speak, I’m taking a break from procrastinating on my edits. Here’s the part where I confess it is because I’m kinda scared of all the chopping I’m going to have to do. There are a few plot holes I have to fill and a few choppy sections that I have to smooth. However, I’m up to the challenge.

Hopefully.

I can’t tell you much without feeling like I’ll be giving it all away. Suffice to say, that my characters are two transplant professionals who take a leap of faith right into each others arms. Yeah…right after they find every decent reason to run screaming in the wrong direction. A turn of events neither of them are sure they are ready to face forces them to confront the issues holding them back. It’s a total disaster…until it isn’t.

My debut hits close to home on a few fronts. It’s based in New Orleans, because I’m a Louisiana girl. New Orleans has always been an amalgamation of transplants and natives for me. It makes a lovely setting for a romance.  Louisiana is the perfect location for all things Shifter. I love when a setting comes together. Don’t you?

It’s hard for me to draw you in without giving you all the juicy details. Honestly, it feels kind of selfish to dangled them over your head. You’ll forgive me when you get the chance to read it. I’m sure of it. 🙂

In the meantime, I can tell you that the biggest hurdle for me was getting it to this point. The initial finish is always the hard part for me. Now, I have to get down to business. The baby-will-be-here countdown is t-minus four months. That’s like two weeks in pregnancy urgency time. I still have a few other books to get written and under my belt before the little love makes it here. Because what being a mother of two has taught me is that I am useless after birth. All I want to do is sleep and nurse my child. In addition to being a mama and eating all the junk food because I’m constantly starving.

In other words, I won’t be writing immediately after baby is born. So, I have to get it done now.

In the coming weeks, I will be posting snippets on my Instagram, twitter, and Facebook. Maybe even one or two will suddenly appear here. Who knows?!? I might get a little spontaneous.

I’ll also be looking for a slew of readers, bloggers, and book lovers to receive a free copy in exchange for an honest review on Amazon and Goodreads.  I’ll give you more details on that when I’m ready to dish it out. I can’t wait to share this with you. Save the date. #April 23rd, 2017. I can’t wait to see you there. Leave a comment on how you’d like to be charmed into reading my debut!

Joy.

 

I am a (working) mom first.

My husband and I tried for eight years before our first live birth. We are now planning (and praying) for our third healthy little love.

On the night that my doctor told me I was pregnant I called him a liar. I dismissed every nurse afterwards the way only a woman whose womb eaten her children could do. I turned my back. I ignored it. I pretended that what was really happening was a cruel joke by God to prove he was still in control.

My body liked to get pregnant. It just didn’t believe in full terms. In turn, I learned to dismiss the yearning I had for children. It became a nuisance, a mosquito buzzing in my ear as I passed the baby section, pregnant women, babies. I wrote poems about it. I raged about it in round tables with other women. I forgot I was not alone.

I waited for the first ultrasound, only to find there was no heartbeat. The tech tried to convince me it was just too early. Except wanting women know too much about the timelines between conception and heartbeats and births. I was not convinced. It would take five more weeks before a second ultrasound revealed a tiny little gummy bear and a strong beating heart.

I have added to that first miracle a second living, breathing dream. My hopes and prayers that this third is just as healthy,happy, and whole is still a knot in my throat. I will never forget those years of waiting. I will never go through pregnancy with the ease of a woman who “knew” she would have children. So be it.

After all of this, the clincher. I am a working mom. So many of us have this particular claim. I work mostly from home. Sometimes, this is because I can and other times it is because I have no other choice. I am a working mom, author. The hours are long, and unpredictable as one would expect. I work double duty as a stay-at-home mom during the day and then at night – all night I work.

I am exhausted all the time. #momlife

However, that isn’t the part that kills me. When my darlings were born I promised myself a handful of new mom promises. Of them, I would be there whenever they wanted me. It wouldn’t matter if they needed me, the wanting would be enough. I would never ever let them reach for me and not come.

Some of you mamas are already nodding your head. You know exactly where this is going and you would be right. I’ve broken that promise. I’ve never let them need me, but some of those wants to have gone unmet. My beloveds hate it when I say, mama has to work. The eldest inevitably asks me why. It is the same answer every night and yet, it feels insufficient.

On those nights when things are particularly rough and nothing their father does will suffice, I find myself weighing my decision to be an author. What am I giving them that is so important it requires I take from their time with me? There are at least seven layers to that answer, but two stay with me all the time.

One. I am teaching them the value of owning ones time by making a living through ones passion.

Two. Sometimes, you just have to feed your own soul.

I am a good mother. I say this, because it is both true and I need to hear it. My children are inquisitive, and funny. They are sure of themselves and have healthy boundaries. We eat cake for breakfast some days. We watch television together. We read the same book at least twenty times a week. They are smart enough to challenge anyone who tries to feed them inaccurate information, yet humble enough to ask questions about what they don’t know.

They are all these things with me working.

I am thankful for my lover, my husband. The father he is reveals itself in the joy they have when they know he is home. He is a man of little needs with an emotionally high maintenance wife. When I need to feed my soul, he makes the sacrifice. We are in this together.

Being an author, working-mom does not come with the guarantees of some working positions. There are more risks to take. One of the risk I take is that my children will see the time away and find it fruitless. So I work hard, I study hard, and I learn everything I can about this business. When they are old enough to read my books, I want the light bulb to go off in their heads. I want them to know that mama wrote to feed them and herself. One day they will have living dreams and a passion too. They will know how to crack open and give both all they got.

To those of you fighting similar battles, do not give in to the guilt. You are working because this is what it takes to feed your children. You are working, so they do not starve and so they learn that love is layered. Love is as present in hours spent away as it is in hours spent with.

My beloveds don’t doubt that  I love them. I don’t doubt that they love me. So I make sure that when I am creating I give it all I have. The hours away have to be worth the time I sacrifice away from them. When I get it right, I know then that they are.

Joy.

The Year of the Leap: A confession.

I am always afraid.

I wish that was a rhetorical statement, but it is the truest of my truths. I am always, always afraid. It has been crippling, anxiety driven, irrational fears that have largely led me to a life of  happenstance. Instead of charging forward for what I want, I have done the bare minimum so that I am not utterly destroyed if things fall apart. There have been some successes, but mostly there has been mediocrity. A mediocre life does no one justice.

News flash things will fall apart. It is sometimes inevitable.

That isn’t to say that preparedness wouldn’t have helped. On the contrary, preparedness at its base allows for worst case scenarios. It is ready for the expected outcome, and the diversion when the plan changes. It is not dictated by fear. It girths itself for battle. It faces head-on the unforeseen war.

That takes courage and courage takes control over fear. I have learned this the hard way more times than I care to honestly relive. Over the last five years, I have faced head on unforeseen wars, because I have had no choice.

Fall or Fly.

I was pushed from those ledges and I have been navigating blindly ever since. Until now.

In the midst of being pushed an opportunity came my way that I was not prepared for. The only difference this time, was that I had already faced some of my deepest fears. I had courage, because I had nothing else to lose.

Sink or Swim.

I took the opportunity, unsure of where it would lead. It brought me to a hidden dream. One that I had spoken out loud, but never believed I would come to see exist. I didn’t know how to draw it out of myself. I didn’t even know if I could.

Tread Water or Drown.

It was overwhelming and far more than I had expected. If I had known then what I know now, I probably would have convinced myself to say “no”. Someone else could have done it more justice, made it more successful. I wasn’t the one who  could do it right, but I did it well.

I surprised myself. I have aimed to keep surprising myself ever since.

This year, is my Year of the Leap.

Instead of waiting to be  pushed, pulled, or dragged kicking and screaming from my comfort zone I am jumping. I am writing the books for myself that I love. I am building a brand even though I know nothing about branding. I am working long hours, away from the children I prayed for so that one day they will see their mother’s name in print and be proud. I am cracking open.

I am afraid. I  am always, always, always afraid.

There are so many unknowns and the Virgo in me hates unknowns. (Hates!) I want guarantee’s and there is none- save these. I have fallen before. I have flown. I have sunk before. I have swam. I have learned how to tread water. I will not drown.  I will not drown.

I am always afraid. But what is a dream if it does not prompt the absolute need to stare into the monster of the abyss and face it down?

As I look out  into this year, and the unknowns curdle like spoiled milk in my stomach, I know this will be another year that shapes me. I know it will mean some very long nights, and longer prayers. I will force me to admit what I want for myself and those I love. It will force me to confront my shortcomings in a way that I will never believe myself capable of doing. I will have to challenge my most private thoughts in order to accomplish my vision over my life.

It is hard leaving the ledge for an unknown landing, but I have decided to be transformed. I hope it transforms you too.

 

Joy.

4 rules to goal picking for success.

 

I’m ambitious, but ambition doesn’t always  translate into time management or even a completed to-do list. I aim to change most if not all of that in 2017, but to do so requires a plan.

Everyone knows this is the time of year for resolutions and healthy projections about the year to come. In all the holiday craziness this hardly seems a great time to set goals for the new year. Yet, most of us will.There is just something about the turning over of a new year that makes everything seem possible. Still, all of those good feelings don’t generally come with a guidebook. There’s not always  a great way to turn good intentions into accomplishments. So, I decided that in order to give myself  the best chance at knocking things off my  bucket list I had to start with a clear plan.

Set some goals. Make a plan. Execute.

Simple enough except I’m a Virgo and nothing is ever that simple. The over analytical side of me hopped right up to the plate to determine exactly how complex I could make this simple task, starting with setting my goals for the year. Just before I was utterly defeated, I found a way to streamline my process and ensure the goals I picked for this year were achievable.

I’m sharing my process now, because I know I’m not the only one who could use a little guidance when determining goals. This four rule process helped tremendously when it came time for me to narrow my years goals down. With any luck, it’ll help you too.  Use what you can, discard what you can’t, and be sure to leave a comment about what you would do differently!

Rule 1: Goals must be reasonable.

I’m a wife, and a work-from-home mom who is currently pregnant. Time is of the essence. Any goals I set for the year  have to be carefully woven into an already stretched day. I have to be honest with myself when determining what things  I can accomplish in the loving chaos that I live in. This isn’t a chance to short myself by not choosing heavy hitters who drive my purpose. I still have to do the work of forward movement. In order to orchestrate this, I must choose goals that are obtainable if nothing changes and flexible when everything does.

Example. I will read 100 books in 2017 vs. I will read 52 books in 2017.

An effective goal has both a deadline and is measurable, but more on that later.

For my schedule anything more than a book a week is too high of a commitment. So my goal must take this into consideration. However, it is not unreasonable within my schedule to find time for one book a week. Even though, it would probably be easier to commit to only one book a month it would not be challenging. I want the challenge.

Rule 2. Goals must feed mind, body, and/or soul.

This one is layered for me. Most often in my busy schedule if something or someone is to be neglected it is me. Putting myself last on the list can sometimes make room for our families bigger picture, but when I am depleted everything in my house seems to stop. In order to continuously be a loving, supportive wife and a loving, devoted mother I have to make time for things that renew me. I must find the time. My goals must prioritize my needs and still honor the needs of those I love.

Goals are personal even though they have rippling effects in some cases.

Example. Taking a twenty minute walk alone to clear my head is not always feasible. However, walking the dogs with my husband and children keeps everyone occupied, gives us quality time and still allows me a little internal space to clear my head. Not to mention, the healthy benefits of a little fresh air and mobility.

You now what your needs are. Do not be afraid to pencil them into your goals. Burn out, fatigue, anxiety are all very real. If you (or I) ignore the needs of the mind, and body the soul will suffer every time. Your goals should offer every imaginable opportunity to bring out the best in yourself to yourself.

Rule 3. Goals must challenge.

Here’s the deal. Goals are about growth. No one grows from remaining comfortable. If a goal does not push, pull, or at the very least coax me out of my comfort zone (comfortable way of thinking, feeling, or doing things) then they are not productive goals.

I have to do the work, to push myself toward greater accomplishments  at the risk of being uncomfortable. Things that don’t move, rust. While contentment for what I have when I have it is great, stagnation is not. In  the words of Walt Disney… Keep moving forward.

Rule 4 . Goals must have a sense of urgency.

Deadlines are not fun, but they are effective. Executing my goals with efficiency and maximizing my ability to remain focused on them requires an end date. In fairness, the end date must be realistic to the goal. Most goals have layers, different requirements. Consider them individually and honestly when working on your timeline.

Deadline example.

No matter how hard I try, I am not gong to trim 7 inches from my waist in 48 hours.

7 inches in 30 days is a realistic deadline and honest to my metabolism, and health routines.

By being honest with yourself about your timeline, you increase the likelihood of success for that goal. Gives yourself the best shot to be successful. The endorphin release is worth it.

I used these rules as a foundation for all of my goal setting. It is by no means a definitive list nor am I an authority on goals, but I have had some success because of them.

By all means, take what you will from my little list of rules. Edit them, discard what does and doesn’t work for you. Do whatever you must, but make goals and stick to them. No matter how small or large, all the positive changes we willingly make for our lives are significant changes. Just don’t be afraid to take the leap.