According to my blog planner, I was supposed to start my cheer mom series today. However, my blog planner is sort of turning into a speed limit sign; it’s a guideline rather than an absolute. So instead of starting the series today, I’m going to backtrack to a post I’ve had in draft for awhile and confess something that makes me nervous.
One of the tasks from the Intentional Blogging Challenge I quasi-participated in last month was vulnerability. To confess something. That’s not really a problem for me since I’m all about sharing my weaknesses and imperfections and what I’m learning as I muddle through my daily life, trying to figure it all out. However. There’s one thing that I’ve leaked out in drips and drabs but I’ve never fully explained.
That thing is my big, hairy, scary goal. What I’ve been dreaming about since second grade when my teacher was shocked by the fact that, at 7, I knew how to properly use an ellipses.
That goal? To write a book that’s published in paper and is available for sale in real, brick and mortar bookstores (what’s left of them, anyway).
But it’s so much more than that.
I want a literary agent. I want a PR agent. Basically, I want “people”.
I want my books to be on the New York Times bestseller list.
I want at least one of my books to be developed into a movie.
I want a multi-book deal with a traditional publishing house.
I want to do a multi-city book tour (and I have all the cities picked out, too, so really, it’s all about having the book to sell since I make a great travel planner. See, agents? Part of your job is done for you).
I want to have TV appearances (I think. I’m not 100% committed to this one yet. But it is a reason why I’m working so hard to lose weight. Need to look good on camera).
I want to reply “I’m a writer” when people ask me what I do for a living (I’m mean, technically I can tell people that but I’d like to have a paycheck to back it up).
I want to finally achieve the goal I set for myself all those years ago so I can tell that little girl “we did it”. She had big dreams back then. It’s up to me to honor them so if I ever have a time machine, I can go back and tell her that no matter how she feels, she shouldn’t quit (unless older me meeting second grade me causes some weird sort of Back to the Future/space-time continuum rift in which case, second grade me is shit out of luck and she’s on her own until she’s 37).
Now that I can admit my goal, I can stop hiding behind it and being evasive about it, it’s time to actually start working towards it (this is the part where I get stuck and all the terrible voices start talking to me, convincing me I shouldn’t do bother, so I clearly need to work through this, too). 
Because I know that none of this will fall into my lap. Much as I’d like, the outlook does not look good that I’ll have a post go viral and come to the minds and eyes of all the people who can help me make my dream come true. Nope. Instead I need to rely on my own discipline, hard work, commitment, and the little bit of talent I have.
Basically, it’s up to me. And I have a ton of work ahead of me.
But I have a list. I have tasks, short term goals, things to do, people to connect with, and a whole lot of time I need to put in to make this happen.
I’ll do it, though.
It’s too important not to.
If I can just get out of my own way.
Do you guys have a big, scary goal? What is it? Is there anything I can do to help you achieve it?
Linking up with Liz
