Reclaiming My Main Character Energy in 2025

(And You Can Too!)

Here’s my big confession: 2024 was rough.

It sounds petty, in the scheme of things. Nothing went terribly wrong. I was physically healthy. Mentally sound. My friends and family were all mostly okay. Although my finances remained a bit dicey, like the Biblical widow with the oil, somehow I always had enough.

And yet, nothing seemed to go terribly right, either. If you’ve read my former posts you’re still probably wondering about the big project I’ve been hinting at for years. Suffice it to say, it never materialized.

All those goals I had for myself and my business at the beginning of 2023? Well, two years later and they’re still just goals.

This writing dream of mine has gotten a little … lackluster.

I’m even back to falling asleep on the couch, after more than a year of kicking that bad habit.

And so I’ve retreated into an unsatisfying routine of busy work that pays the bills. Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than the life I had at my previous job, and I’m grateful that I stress less and sleep more. There is so much to be grateful for just as long as I stop to look for it.

But I didn’t cut 15,000 words out of my novel in November 2023. For the first time I failed my NaNo goal. Miserably. That set the scene for an excruciating thirteen-month rewrite that’s still not entirely complete.

What happened? Well, my big secret project turned into a big secret disappointment. I internalized the grief, not letting myself mourn, because the project didn’t really die, it just quiet quit itself out of existence.

I’d thrown so much time and energy and excitement into this opportunity, putting it in front of finishing my own novel or growing my business. Then as that hope slowly died, I filled the vacuum with mediocrity.

Since last spring I’ve been going through the motions creatively. Unable to even think about writing a blog post, because honestly, what was there to say?

I didn’t know how to inspire you all, because I didn’t know how to inspire myself.

Beginning My Creative Recovery

Then a few months ago I went to get my hair done. My stylist, Diane, is a kindred spirit, who was one of my volunteers back in my non-profit days. Since I pretend I’m a redhead now, I have to visit her every other month to maintain the façade. We often discuss leadership and personal development, which happen to be among my favorite topics. She knows all about my career journey, and yes, my mystery project.

“I read this book,” she told me back in September, “that was so powerful. I think you should read it.” Then she handed me The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.

Honestly, I didn’t want to. For the past year—for my entire life, really—I’ve felt constantly behind. The last thing I thought I needed was to read a book that was really a twelve-week course, with tasks and homework assignments and daily activities.

I thanked her, took the book, and felt like everything was all a bit hopeless.

But the thing was, when Diane told me the book was about creative recovery, I knew that was exactly what I needed. Perhaps I resisted so hard because that phrase perfectly described the state I was in. When faced with solutions to our problems, it’s often easier to stay right where we are in the familiar struggle.

Rewriting my book was so hard because I felt stagnant and stuck, unmotivated and uninspired. I’m good at forcing myself to stare at my computer screen, but I’m also good at opening a browser window and letting myself get distracted. As much as I can make myself spend the time, I can’t always make myself do the work. Especially when the draft is already there, and the task is to make it significantly better.

I resisted for several weeks, but eventually I opened The Artist Way, and my recovery began.

It’s still a work in progress, for sure. But unlike November 2023, two months ago I made radical strides in my novel, putting in 50 mostly-solid hours of editing.

Last month felt less productive, but maybe I’m starting to accept that there’s only so much that can be accomplished in December – especially if one resolves to put up the largest Christmas tree that can possibly fit into a one-bedroom apartment.

But that secret project of mine, that I’d quietly given up on? In the last few weeks it rose from the grave in a totally unexpected way. As early as February I might actually be able to tell you all about it.

Reclaiming My Main Character Energy

The water bottle I use every day has a sticker that says “Main Character Energy,” a souvenir I picked up at a children’s bookstore while attending a reading of a friend’s debut picture book, A Book For Bear. The sticker’s plastic is peeling from repeated use, and it’s become so familiar that I rarely see it. It’s just a part of my office scenery.

But twice recently someone else noticed. Both made comments that reminded me why I bought that particular sticker. It goes back to the name of my blog, and my goal for sharing my story.

I left my last job to become the hero of my own story.

Yet somehow, over the last year, I went back to being a supporting character.

That supporting character’s life was fine, but it was nothing to write home about. (Or blog about.)

So as another year begins and I think of resolutions, that’s my goal and my dream for 2025. To get my main character energy back. To be the hero of my own story once again.

Very few outcomes are entirely in my control. I can’t ensure that I will find an agent or a publisher. I can’t make this secret project happen.

But I can show up each day with hope and faith and determination.

I can nurture my creativity.

I can show myself grace when I fall short (or fall asleep on the couch), and start fresh the next day.

I can take risks, and seek out new experiences, and be open to the unexpected.

And if I do all those things to rewrite my life, maybe the plot won’t go exactly as I planned.

Maybe it will be better.

It certainly won’t be dull.

I left my job because I was tired of wasting my life.

So I need to stop wasting my life.

Hold me accountable. Cheer me on.

Better yet, resolve to do the same. Because life’s too short to be utterly ordinary.

It’s time to reclaim my main character energy. Will you join me?