Some of you know that I wrote a book. However, saying that I wrote a book implies that I would have something to show for it, when in fact all I have is a heap of words, half of which are now crossed out, and a blank piece of paper as I start over. I am writing a YA Fantasy novel, and it has been on my mind a lot lately. It has to do with false Gods and an ancient seed and a tree that gives life to the world. Basic stuff, you know. But in all honesty, writing a novel wasn’t what I imagined it would be like. I felt so accomplished when I hit 80,000 words, and trust me, I still celebrate that. Getting a first draft out (or whatever you’d like to call my heap of words), is quite something in and of itself. But it wasn’t a novel.

At first I was a little bit sad about it. How could I spend three years (very on and off) writing a book that isn’t really a book? How could I dedicate so much time to something so…bad? In truth, I only entertained those thoughts for a couple of minutes. I trained myself better than to think like that. In discovering I was having those thoughts and immediately banishing them, I realized I needed a new set of thoughts – a seed – to plant in their place. This is what I did.

Second, I became hell-bent on learning everything that I could so that I could turn my story into something worth reading.

Third, I made a plan. I organized my time to accommodate 30 minutes of reading every day (and all day on Wednesdays) so that I could learn and grow in my new craft.

Herein lies the problem I was unknowingly dealing with; I was writing something, but I wasn’t crafting it. I was going through the motions, putting words on paper (laptop), but there was no artistry in it. There was no deep thinking or second tries. There was no heart. It was simply the story I imagined written down in some logical (though not always) order.

Friends, we are so lucky to practice a craft. To create pieces of ourselves that are worth something. To show the world how meaningful our lives are simply by making what we love.

I am not sad even slightly now about my book. I do not give up on my dreams. I do not take them lightly. I don’t just want accomplishments; if I did, my 80,000 word count might have given me that, and I could be finished. I want to be greater than I was yesterday. I want to learn more than I thought possible. I want to dominate myself – not the world, not other people, just my own preconceptions of who I should be. I want to be more.

Every day I learn, and every day I take pleasure in being a student. I am grateful beyond measure that there are things for me to learn and that I have an interest in. I cannot tell you how many people I’ve spoken to who claim to have no important interests and certainly no passions. I don’t believe those people, for the record. I think they just haven’t searched hard or long enough. I practice gratitude that I have something to love, and that it pushes back. It makes me angry, but then I love it harder. That’s how love works, right?

I don’t know when you’ll see that novel from me. I’m only moonlighting as a writer right now. I’ve got my hands full (spilling over) with this challenge, some special content I’m creating for you, a CreativeLive class coming up, and my own Promoting Passion convention that I’m hosting in September. I don’t know if it sounds like a lot, but it’s a lot. And, I don’t take pride in being busy. I take pride in being organized and conscientious enough to not be busy. My days are absolutely packed, and I look forward to when things slow down slightly and I can spend days upon days reading and writing.

Either way, busy or not, I’m loving each bit. I really am. Because I know that busy times are exciting, and slow times are peaceful, and life is always in need of balance. This image today is about rebirth, something I have been thinking of a lot lately as I school myself in a new art form. I am being reborn into someone who knows a little bit more, and who cares tremendously about her craft. Thank you, universe.