I hope this message finds you all well and hunkering down with the person, people, pet, or project you love. I’m lucky my sons and their partners will be with us on Christmas day. They live nearby, but it’s been a few years since we all had Christmas dinner together. We’ll be celebrating this year, as my youngest and his fiancé have just purchased a tiny home! They will be putting it on the organic farm they both work on (hydroponic greens… such a cool setup...pic below!)
Well, how was 2024 for you? Political goings-on aside, I hope you found moments of calm in all the chaos.
It’s been a year of starts and stops for me, of new ideas and incomplete drafts—eight novels written, but several more scattered like half-built bridges, tipping me off the end to tread water. It’s easy to feel like a failure when the words don’t come together, when projects get set aside, and when I find myself starting over again and again. I never used to be like this.
I’ll be honest: social media has been a major distraction. TikTok, to be specific, is the culprit. I quit once. Twice. Then, five times. And yet, here I am again, hopeful that this will be the time the account deletion will stick. Ironically, the app is slated to be cancelled next month anyway—perhaps the universe’s way of making the decision for me. I’ve started calling it TikToxic, though I recognize it’s value for so many creators and feel very badly for them.
But here’s the thing: even in the scattered moments, the writing still happened. I just didn’t finish as many things as I had hoped. And now, in the quiet of a rainy, winter morning, I’ve returned to one of those “unfinished” novels—one that’s been hanging around, patiently waiting for me to find my focus. It’s a strange feeling, a weird mixture of hope, hesitation, and humility. I don’t want to talk about it too much, because I’m afraid of sounding like the sheep who cries wolf, always on the verge of something, but never quite getting there. But I’m done feeling bad about myself. After all, isn’t that part of the creative journey?
We often talk about success in pretty, packaged terms: a finished manuscript, a polished draft, or a published book. But the truth, for me, anyway, is that the path to completion is anything but tidy. There are distractions, delays, detours. There are many days when the words flow effortlessly, but there are also days when absolutely nothing seems to click. On top of everything, there’s the constant balancing act of life: other work, relationships, the ever-present lure of a new shiny idea (or, in my case, old-school typewriters and distraction-free writing devices!
But throughout it all, I’m still a writer. Even when my projects sit unfinished, I’m still creating. I’ve been so focused (maybe that’s the wrong word to use, lol) on the finish line I’d lost the magic of creating a story. And so, I’m writing this post not to explain away my scattered year but to acknowledge it. There’s no shame in imperfect progress. And there’s no shame in wandering a little before finding your way back to the page.
So, if you’ve been waiting for me to finish a novel, or wondering why I’ve been so scattered, know this: I’m still here. I’m still working. I’m still writing. And I have no intention of letting the noise of the world (or social media) drown out the quiet work I’m doing in the background. It just takes time.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the story and the lesson of my year—a year not of failure, but of finding the delicate balance between focus and distraction, of unfinished stories that will eventually be complete, and of a writer who never stopped creating, even when the pages weren’t always filled.
Thank you all for your patience and understanding as I navigate the ups and downs of this creative journey. I guess it doesn’t matter how old you are; you can still lose your way.
I appreciate your lovely support, (especially when I had that nasty health challenge in the summer. That was really scary). I’m excited to continue sharing my progress with you in the coming months. As we head into the deepest, dark of the winter season—we call it The Big Wet Dark here on the Westcoast of Canada—I wish you warmth, peace, and moments of joy, whether you're huddling close with loved ones or finding quiet time just for yourself. May the new year bring fresh inspiration, fewer distractions, and a brighter, calmer 2025.
Best,
Carol Anne
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