There’s a book inside you that’s been waiting to come out, and when New Year’s Day rolls around, you swear you’re going to bear down and finish it—this year! But another twelve months go by without a manuscript to show for it and you tell yourself, “No, really, this year….” And again and again, until so many New Years go by you lose count. Your friends stop asking about it. Your spouse no longer listens to the excuses. Your kids think you’ve gone soft. Even the cat doesn’t want to hear about it.

And yet that book is still inside, waiting to come out.

I know all about that book—I had it in me, too. “This is the year,” I’d say, full of resolve. Then, a year later, “No, really, this is the year….”