All posts by Kimberly MacCarron

What Happened to the Giving?

by Kimberly MacCarron

In the midst of twinkling lights, sparkly trees and holiday music streaming through every department store in America, what happened to giving?

I don’t mean giving in the sense that we’re grabbing crap off the shelves before the next person can snatch it. I don’t mean that panicky feeling of buying anything because we have no clue what someone needs. And I don’t mean buying something for a “Secret Santa” gift that the person clearly lists the three things that would be sufficient.

This year I told my husband not to bother with the Secret Santa farce at his office. You pull a name from the jar, and that person lists three things they want in a specified price range. The three things are generally gift cards to their favorite stores. Then they pick a name and their choices are generally a gift card or a specific item. How about we nix that idea completely and just go buy ourselves what we want???

I’m not trying to be all bah humbug about Christmas. I seriously want the opposite. I want to do something that fills my heart with joy and wonder. Those are things I’ve sadly missed in the spirit of Christmas. Even with young children who love the magic of Christmas, I haven’t felt it for a long time.

When my daughter came home from school with her “Secret Santa” name from among her friends (price range $40), I was annoyed. Not because of the price. Not because I don’t love Christmas. It’s because they all want the same things from the same stores. And they already have the same stuff! I told my daughter that they should pull that money together and give it to a charity. That suggestion was met with something that went a little bit like this…”Whaaaat?”

I would much rather give her $100 to put toward sending a girl to school for a whole year in Malawi http://www.nbcnews.com/id/40558738/. Please see Lawrence O’Donnell’s website. It will make your heart soar. And with even less money than that, she and her friends could provide desks for kids who actually want them.

So, this year, I’ve requested that my friends DO NOT BUY ME ANYTHING. I would much rather pull our money and give to a deserving charity. Any charity. I don’t need anything but a warm feeling in my heart.

I bought a bunch of toys and cold-wear gear for our local community action center and took it to the school for a toy drive yesterday. It was the first time I was actually excited about doing something or buying things this Christmas. In a county where most kids are privileged and spoiled, what do they REALLY need?! I wish that all parents would step back and remember what the season is really about. I wish we could step forward and show our children what it means to give. To really give.

Okay. I’m getting off my soap box now because I have to go shopping. I need to fight someone for a parking space and then push and shove my way into some lines. Then I need to argue with the poor sales clerk who won’t accept my coupon on a certain name brand item. Then I’ll drive home, with my jaw clenched up tight, to welcome my kids home from school.

I hope that this Christmas we all search inside our hearts and discover the real magic of the season.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays,  and…Bah humbug! ☺

Shrugs, Smiles and Sex

by Kimberly MacCarron

As writers, we’re supposed to write what we know. Apparently I know lots about shrugging, smiling and sex.

If I do a find and replace with the words ‘shrug’ or ‘smile’, there would be a gazillion replaces going on. Now, the sex is another story. I don’t use the word much, but, boy do I like to write about it.

This poses a significant problem for me because I write YA. Teens tend to smile and shrug a lot. I’m sure they even have sex. But shouldn’t it be a little bit harder writing sex scenes for teen readers?

Apparently not.

During this month of NaNo, I started writing a paranormal adult contemporary. I’m about 9,000 words in, which totally bites when we’re way past the halfway mark. On the other hand, I started a YA book at the beginning of October, which I had trouble writing. I’ve gone back and forth between these two books like the fickle woman I am.

Yesterday, I got to the halfway mark in the YA. Want to know how I did it? I decided my characters would have sex. Then I wrote almost 5,000 words leading up to it.

For all you writers out there who are stuck in your manuscript: write what you know.

I apparently know sex. After all, I am a mom of five kids. 🙂 I think sex makes the majority of people happy. Maybe I shouldn’t advocate that as a YA writer, but, hell, let’s be honest. Teens go back and forth between being on top of the world and being in the pits. That was most of us as well at that age.

I’ve written five YA romances now, and I always intend for my characters to have sex, but it never happens. It came close–just about as close as possible–in my last book, but it didn’t happen. I do plenty of hinting at the end that it WILL happen, but I’ve never written a sex scene for teens. That made me rethink things. I shouldn’t be writing FOR teens. I just need to be honest in the story and write it that way.

I think this is what motivates me today to write. I am going to write that sex scene. And I’m going to curb the smiles and shrugs. Unless they’re really, REALLY sexy smiles and shrugs. Today it’s all about the sex.

What about you? Do you write what you know? Do you get stuck when you’re trying to make your characters NOT do what they clearly want to do? What infuses excitement into your writing day?

Off to smile while I write. No shrugging allowed.

How Far is Too Far?

I have opinions!

I have strong opinions. That must come as a complete shock to those who know me, but I do.

I also feel torn sometimes between what I believe and what I used to believe. We’re human and our opinions can change based on life experience. As we grow older, sometimes those thoughts mellow and soften or they harden us to other people’s views.

As writers, do you have characters with strong beliefs and opinions or do you end up deleting them so as not to offend half of your readership? And if you do that, are you being true to your characters? Shouldn’t they have views on religion and politics? Shouldn’t they have enough depth of character to feel things strongly?

I’m torn here. I write YA (Young Adult), and I hesitate sometimes to put in a comment about race, religion or politics. I hesitate because I don’t want to put my own views out there to be criticized. I don’t want people to think that I’m trying to brainwash teens. I don’t want to be censored.

Yet, isn’t that what I really want? Down deep? To make people think and feel? To make them question?

I went to a Christian high school that taught creation over evolution, and this made my grandfather furious. He talked to me about the history of the world and the age of fossils and bones that clearly proved evolution, but when I asked questions in class I was considered rebellious.

When I went to a Reformed Presbyterian college, I ended up flunking my papers in Bible class because I dared to oppose the teacher’s ideas on modern topics. The first F was on a paper about abortion where I argued against Operation Rescue.  But I had a friend who just had an abortion, and I couldn’t in good conscience approve calling her a murderer–or anyone else, for that matter. He didn’t much appreciate my stance on just about anything. And he didn’t particularly like calling on me in discussion group either. Go figure.

But, I was young and curious and shouldn’t we want that of everybody? Isn’t questioning how we learn?

I’m in a bit of a quandary with my latest manuscript. Religion and gay rights play powerful roles, but I think that’s part of my problem with writing this. I don’t want to offend anyone, but how can I not? How can I not write what I feel? How can I not be in support of allowing people to be who they are? Whether they are conservative or liberal or moderate? And why do we feel that need to label?

I’ve lived life from both views. I’ve gone to Pro-Life rallies as a teen before I barely kissed a boy, before I could identify with the topic in any form. I’ve worn the little baby feet on my shirt that shows the life of a baby at months old. I’ve also made the case that abortion was murder. Until I met people who have had them. My own mom, for one. Friends in college. And you soften. Your heart softens to other people who have led a different life than yours.

That’s what I want. For people to soften their hearts. To not stand in judgment. Let that be for God. For whatever God you choose. Or no God, if that’s also your choice.

I’ve decided to write my teenage characters and their parents as I believe they should be written, and if people don’t appreciate that, it’s fine. But I think that to do otherwise makes them cardboard characters with no depth. They wouldn’t be true, and wouldn’t that be just as bad? To not be true to the characters? When their voice is silenced, when we censor them before they even get on the page, are we being true to the story? To ourselves?  To our own voice?

What about you? What do you think? How far is too far?

My Summer Reading Log

Trying to keep my kids reading throughout the summer is like pulling teeth and performing a root canal. Not so for me. My favorite part of summer at the pool is reading. The only time my body comes into contact with the water is to hang on the ladder for ten seconds when I get too hot. Then it’s right back to the book.

My kids had to fill out their reading logs and keep track of the books they read, so I decided to do the same. So many times someone will ask what books I’ve read recently, and I draw a complete blank. It’s not that I didn’t like the book. It’s that I read too many of them to keep track.

Without further ado, here is my reading log:
1. BOUND by Erica O’Rourke
2. THE FARM by Emily McKay
3. GRAVE MERCY by Robin LaFevers
4. PUSHING THE LIMITS by Katie McGarry
5. MY LIFE NEXT DOOR by Huntley Fitzpatrick
6. DEATH, DOOM, AND DETENTION by Darynda Jones
7. CRACKED UP TO BE by Courtney Summers
8. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee
9. PAPER TOWNS by John Green
10. AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES by John Green
11. LOOKING FOR ALASKA by John Green
12. THE BEST MAN by Kristan Higgins
13. FOREVER AND A DAY by Jill Shalvis
14. SHADOW IN THE WIND by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
15. THE CELESTINE PROPHECY by James Redfield
16. VERONIKA DECIDES TO DIE by Paulo Coehlo
17. AND THE MOUNTAINS ECHOED by Khaled Hosseini
18. IT HAD TO BE YOU by Jill Shalvis
19. CRAZY LITTLE THING by Tracy Brogan
20. YOUTH IN REVOLT by C.D. Payne
21. THE TORTILLA CURTAIN by T.C. Boyle

I love books. Clearly. But I do have to say that I loved every single book I read this summer. I loved them for all different reasons. Some I read for escape. Some I read to better understand a culture or social position. Some I read just for the romance. When I looked at my reading log, it occurred to me that the books I like to read the most are the books that I tend to write—Young Adult. It’s a genre that’s not really a genre. It’s a group of books caught in between the cracks of so many types of books. Most of the ones I read this summer are straight contemporaries, but some paranormals entered my log. The first five books on the list were all RITA-nominated YAs, but Darynda Jones followed close on their heels. ☺ I always have to read her latest.

Jill Shalvis and Kristan Higgins sit together on my shelf, friends both in my bookcase as well as real life. Their romances make my heart feel lighter. They make me laugh. They make me cry. But, more important is the laughter and those family and friendship connections.

Just when I feel happy, I decide to read Khaled Hosseini, who makes me cry in a way that hurts my heart. His stories don’t tug at my heartstrings. They pull them so hard that I feel drawn and quartered by the end. But I love his books so much. They take me to countries that I’ve never been, but I feel that I have. When I put down his books, I feel like I’ve known every character intimately.

After reading THE FAULT IN OUR STARS in the spring, I decided to buy John Green’s hardback collection, and I wasn’t disappointed. During our vacation, my daughters, husband and I traded John Green around like a bong at a hippie commune. If hippies actually smoked bongs. Not really sure about that as I’m not really acquainted with either hippies or bongs. I would say our John Green Marathon was successful since we all liked the books.

Several of the books were recommended by my nephew Heidar, who always gives me the best books during the summer. His recommendations were books that I probably wouldn’t have picked up on my own: SHADOW IN THE WIND, THE CELESTINE PROPHECY, VERONIKA DECIDES TO DIE, YOUTH IN REVOLT, and THE TORTILLA CURTAIN. And I loved these books. Every year we go to California, I hit him up for his recommendations because I want to read out of my comfort zone.

Tracy Brogan’s book was funny and light-hearted but touching in the family relationships and the zany characters. I predict big, BIG things for Ms. Brogan. ☺

And of course, I’m probably going to get yelled at when I admit that—before this summer—I had never read TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. What the hell took me so long? I think it’s because I’ve always been a bit of a rebel. If you WANT me to do something, don’t tell me I have to. As I always lumped Harper Lee’s classic into the “mandatory reading” category, I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. I’m so, so happy that I decided to cave to conformity. What a book! Now I understand why people read it again, and again and AGAIN.

Just writing this quick write-up about the books I read this summer makes me excited about reading—and hopefully writing—again.  If I could ever touch someone else’s life through my writing like these authors have done for me I would consider myself a success. It’s a rare gift indeed to change someone’s perspective about illegal immigration colliding with middle-class values (like THE TORTILLA CURTAIN) or doing the right thing in the face of prejudice (TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD).

But, for me, it’s about teens. It’s about showing them that they aren’t alone—no matter their situation. Whether they’re struggling with that crazy hierarchy of popularity or identity crisis in any form, they need to know that they aren’t alone.
Isn’t that why we all read? To alleviate loneliness? To make our hearts feel? To know we aren’t alone?

Those are the reasons why I started reading when I was a kid and never stopped. My grandmother once said to me when I was four and bored: “When you learn to read, a whole new world will open for you. And you’ll never be lonely again.”

What books have you read lately that lifted your heart, changed your perspective or you loved for a different reason?

If you haven’t read any books lately (for shame!), what is on the top of your TBR pile?

Obligated to Set Ourselves Free

I woke up today thinking about this blog post, and I readily admit that I became stressed. I thought about just ditching it again and taking a nice, long walk on the beach.  Who would really care?  I’m on vacation.  Not only that, but I couldn’t think of one thing to say. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. But I have to post something because other people rely on me. Other people expect me to fulfill my obligation to the blog.

That made me wonder about life and obligations and why we do the things we do—both professionally as well as personally.

Sometimes I’ll catch myself saying, “I have to call my mother today.” Do I really? And if I make it sound like a duty or an obligation, is the actual act of doing it insincere? And if it’s insincere, should we even do it?

How often do we complain about doing our job or fulfilling a promise hastily given? It made me think about my kids’ field trips. They aren’t busloads of fun. Sometimes they’re annoying and noisy and downright mind-numbing, but I do it anyway. Why? Because I made a promise. Because it’s important to my kids. Because their smiles go a long way toward erasing the negative feelings. Later, I can barely remember the headache. Later I don’t think about all the things I should have been doing instead of sitting on a big yellow school bus watching a random kid make fart noises in his armpit.

There are days when I think about ditching it all. In the end, who will care whether I post a blog or chaperone a field trip or call my mother? Who will care if I finish a scene or finally revise a book or attend a workshop? Nobody. Nobody but me.
Sometime it’s not about just fulfilling promises or meeting those obligations. Sometimes it’s really a wake-up call to look at things differently. We either have to change the way we look at the things we do or else make a change and decide not to do them.

With five kids, I’ve attended my fair share of field trips. Every year one of my kids will attend the zoo. I’ve never chaperoned that one. I hate the zoo. It depresses me, and I decided a long time ago that I didn’t want to go and watch animals stuck in a cage or living pretend lives in a pretend habitat. So, there was no guilt involved. I just told my kids I didn’t like the zoo, and that was the end of that.

It’s okay to say no. It really is. In fact, it’s kind of liberating. But, once you make the commitment, you have to follow through with it.

Next time I call my mom, I’m not going to act like it’s an obligation. Instead I’m going to think about how I always feel better after talking to my mom. I’m going to remember how her chuckle makes me laugh. I’m going to remember how she’s always been there for me, and making a phone call should come from my heart. I should never call her because I feel like I have to. I should call her because it makes my heart feel good. And because I know it will make hers feel the same way.

I came to this same realization about writing. When I would hear my friends talk about deadlines, I kind of felt bad for them. I hate deadlines. They stress me out. How can you still love something if you HAVE to do it?

It’s all about heart and attitude and adjusting those two things to make our lives better. Richer. Complete.

We all have obligations, but if we learn to treat them as a gift we give ourselves, then those same things can enrich our lives. We free ourselves to enjoy the things we have to do and rediscover why we made the commitment in the first place.

Before I go take a walk on the beach in Carlsbad, California this morning, I’ll leave you with a quote by Wayne W. Dyer: “If you are living out of a sense of obligation, you are a slave.”

Don’t be a slave. Set yourself free to rediscover why you made your commitments in the first place. In every area of your life.

 

I Can’t Go Back, but My HEART Goes On

With my 44th birthday rearing its ugly, wrinkled head tomorrow, I’ve recently realized that life moves on. Or it just really, really changes.

Case in point:

I’ve attended two HEART concerts in my lifetime. Once when I was a freshman in college, and the other a couple of weeks ago. HEART sang many of the same songs, but, WOW, my experience was very different.

When I went the first time, I was young and independent, the world at my feet. I went with one of my best friends-turned-very-briefly-boyfriend, John. We were several rows back from the stage, and I was so close I could see Nancy and Ann Wilson’s makeup as they crooned away about barracudas and a magic man. The smell of pot floated through the air behind me, and we watched in disappointment when other people drank their beers. We weren’t old enough yet. We were just wee babies at eighteen.

After listening to the concert and dancing and singing, we made our uneventful way home. I saved my ticket stub for years, and I always looked back with fondness and a touch of excitement to that concert.

Take the remote and fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. HEART. Still crooning about barracudas and a magic man, but add some Led Zeppelin tunes in there, and you have a slightly different concert. But, it wasn’t the songs or the artists that made the experience so different. Nope.

I went with my family. Yes. That’s right. I took my five kids (ages 7, 8, 10, 12, and 13) plus a neighborhood friend of my kids’ to a Heart concert. My husband was there too, along with another couple and their daughter. We got upgraded from lawn seats into the pavilion, which should have made any sane person happy. But, I’m not sane. I’m a mom of five hellions. And they can’t be contained in seats! They need to run wild and free.

Before the concert started, we noticed other people venturing out to the lawn, leaving their upgraded prison seats. So we followed. I didn’t have to continue telling my son to stop kicking the back of the seats. My other son was literally rolling down the hill, over and over and OVER again. The kids were screaming and dancing to Barracuda—which was the only song they really knew.

I became nostalgic, listening to the familiar songs, so I sent John a message that I was thinking of him and our first concert experience. Being the great friend that he remained through the years, he sent me back a message. I was all sappy and thinking about my youth when my youngest, who was asleep on the blanket beside me, bolted upright and proceeded to puke on me.

The nostalgia went away, replaced with some disgust at cleaning up vomit. Even though I was now old enough (way past legal drinking age) to enjoy my margarita in a tall plastic guitar-shaped cup, my buzz was gone. My youngest ruined my fuzzy, sappy buzz.

Later, my husband said to my daughter: “Don’t worry about it. Many people have puked at their first concert. Congratulations!  You’re one of them.”

The adults all laughed at that.

Then Shannon said with a firm nod and all the wisdom of her seven years: “Yeah. They probably had too much popcorn, too.”

Ahhh. You can’t go back. And, really, I wouldn’t want to. Well, not for too long…☺

My Hell on Earth–Revising and Housework

For me, revising is like housework. It’s Hell on Earth.

I have five kids. My house is a wreck—all the time. Needless papers make their home on top of cluttered countertops. Soccer shoes and cleats and backpacks litter the floor to the point where people have to step over stuff to get into the house. Dishes pile up in the sink at an alarming rate, and the recycling bin overflows several times a week.

When I stand in the middle of the chaos, I feel…chaotic. Some people, who love to clean and organize, would rub their hands together gleefully. Oh, the corners I can clean! I can’t wait to get started. Not me. I shut down. I look around, not knowing where to begin, so I go find something else to do.

Same goes with revising. I love to create the story. I love bringing my characters to life. I love making them overcome obstacles to achieve their goals. I just can’t seem to do it myself.

This is why I have five manuscripts with very little revising. I create, and then when I go back in to revise, there’s so much work to do that I go off to find something better to do. Like start another book. And the process begins again.

Housework and revising are so similar. For me, I shuffle papers from one counter to another. Sometimes I’ll neatly stack them to make it look like I accomplished something. Anything. It’s the same in my manuscripts. I shuffle scenes and clean them up a bit, but usually I’ll walk away when the hard stuff pops up.

I have a super hard time throwing things away. I file away cute stories my kids have written. I keep the progress reports. I keep pieces of toys because I’m sure eventually the other parts will magically appear. My grandma’s saying was always, “If in doubt, toss it out!” But, I’m a keeper. I have the same problem with scenes in my book. I hang onto them because they’re part of the lives I’ve created. It’s hard for me to hit delete.

But, I have good news to report. I revised my current manuscript—STICKS AND STONES. I’m not joking! I did it. I yanked out a whole subplot that didn’t work and put one in that did. Then I had to clean up all the areas that these changes affected. I’m not saying it’s all that great. But I did it! And I’m willing to work to make it even better.

Now that I’ve made this first round of revisions, I look at the disaster that some might call a house. It’s worse than ever. I guess I’ll have to tackle that as well. One counter at a time. One dish at a time. One scattered cleat at a time.

Welcome to Kim MacCarron’s Hell on Earth.

Just Another Day

 

by Kimberly MacCarron

As writers, don’t we love to read interesting stories? Some people wonder where we get our ideas. Sometimes there is a random story or an idea, but other times it could be just a day. Just another day.

Take February 19th for instance. Google it. Research some of the most interesting things that have happened on that date throughout history, and you have yourself a story. During my fun research project, I must admit that I’ve read more than I ever wanted to about cannibalism and murder for hire. But it sure does get your creative juices and just plain curiosity running.

Wouldn’t it be interesting for a character to know some strange and random piece of trivia like the first prize was inserted in a Cracker Jack box on this date back in 1913?

Or maybe one of the 800 people killed by one of the sixty tornadoes in the southern U.S. in 1884 was the great, great grandfather of the character in your book. Or—even better—the reincarnation of one of them.

If you’re into murder and suspense or a legal thriller, you might be interested to know that on this date in 1859 Daniel Sickles was the first man acquitted of a murder charge on the grounds of temporary insanity. And you should definitely check out that story! It seems that scandal in political circles was big back then as well. He killed the son of Francis Scott Key, who was the district attorney of the District of Columbia, and happened to be having a little thing on the side with Sickles’s wife. I guess Sickles didn’t much like that, so he shot Key right in front of the White House. Good times. Good times.

For those with a little thing for a mob story, you might be interested in the demise of Frank “The Dasher” Abbandando at the young age of thirty-two. This contract killer for the infamous Murder Inc., gang was executed at Sing Sing in New York on this date in 1942. Guess Dasher didn’t dash fast enough to avoid the electric chair.

Probably the most disturbing story of this date involved the famous Donner Party. And this wasn’t a party with streamers, balloons or tuxedo-clad men serving champagne. It’s sad. It’s disturbing. It’s tragic as tragic can get. After starting out from Missouri in May of 1846 on their way to California, this group of ninety got trapped in the snow in the Sierra Nevada. After starvation, disease and injury took the life of many in the party, most of the survivors resorted to cannibalism. Only forty-eight survived. The first of the rescuers reached them on this date back in 1847. Yes. You read that right. More than nine months under those awful conditions! While reading this story, I wanted to cry. There was an account of a young girl who actually took part in eating her own mother and sister. This story is a testament of what human beings will endure just to survive.

But on a happy note, how ‘bout that Cracker Jack fact?

I’m not saying that my next YA will be about cannibalism or mob activity or even a plea of temporary insanity, but researching a specific date might just get that creativity flowing.
Happy Birthday to Amy Tan, Victoria Justice, Jeff Kinney, Smokey Robinson, Seal, Jeff Daniels, and Nicolas Copernicus (1473-1543)! Come on! I know he’s dead and all, but the guy discovered that the earth is round. We have to include him!

Happy February 19th, and may you all have an endless supply of Cracker Jacks.

Now you pick a random date and research it. It’s fun! I promise!  Report back and tell me one interesting thing.  🙂

12—12—12… Are You Lucky or Unlucky?

People have been talking about this day long before they began the Armageddon discussion for the 21st. Some people plan to get married today because they feel it’s a lucky day. Others plan to be extra careful because they don’t feel hopeful.

There is so much hype about the end of the world and the year 2012. I have to admit that I’ve fallen victim to its lure. The National Geographic channel has done nothing to curb it with their Doomsday Preppers and Apocalypse shows.

But this blog is really about luck and whether we have the good or the bad kind and how we react to situations that seem lucky or unlucky. Continue reading

Who Wants to Hump with Me?

Who immediately took that innocent question straight into the gutter? For shame, for shame!

I meant with NaNo. For those of you not familiar with this, it’s a time when we writers decide to torture ourselves for one entire month. We try, and sometimes succeed, in writing a 50,000-word book in one month.

Usually when I first start my book, I’m a little bit excited but mostly fearful that every word I write will be utter and complete crap. Then, a week into writing the novel, I start to enjoy it. My characters pick up speed. It starts to feel real. Although I may not see the light at the end of the tunnel, I can certainly see that I’m staying on the tracks. And then…

And then comes that damn hump. It’s a big one, too.

I’m looking at it right now. Although it’s not Wednesday anymore, today will be my own “Over the Hump” day. It’s when my story should very well hit 25,000 words. But I’m a little concerned that I won’t make it up that hump. My main character has been put through the wringer lately. And now I can’t figure out how to make her life better, so she’s just sitting there waiting for me to save her. To make things right.

I know it’s my responsibility. I made her poor life miserable, and only I have the power to change her fate. Poor Brynn. She’s hanging all her hopes on someone who doesn’t have the gumption to make it over the hump.

However, the nice thing about NaNo is the encouragement we get from other writers going through the same thing. For instance, when I don’t feel like writing another blasted word, the chime on my phone lets me know that Pintip has texted with a half-hour sprint challenge. Okay. I can do a half hour. That’s nothing.

And then a half hour sometimes turns into an hour. Or two.

So, if you’re like me, and you’re struggling to reach that halfway mark in your novel, reach out to a friend. Reach out and challenge them to finish with you. To be a part of something that’s bigger than either of you.

I challenge you all—whether you’re participating in NaNo this year or not—to encourage your friends to reach their goals. It doesn’t have to be about writing. It can be about dieting. Or organizing the house. Or physical exercise. Anything that makes you struggle.

As Mary Anne Radmacher once said, “As we light a path for others, we naturally light our own way.”

Go! Light your path.

I’m getting ready to hump.