I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. In theory, they are fantastic. In reality, they are a lot of pressure. We all want to look great, feel great, accomplish something, quit something, or start something.

And then we remember it’s work. All of it.

And fourteen days into January—if we’re lucky—the new exercise equipment is abandoned. The diets have been ditched. Maybe we are still doing that thing we said we’d stop. And we probably never started that thing we really wanted to.


And it always will.

There will always be a reason things won’t work out. But there may always be a reason it could.

Every once in a while I stumble across something that lights the wheels in my mind and charges my body with enough electricity to power a large country.

That happened this morning as I was scrolling Facebook. (AMAZING, right?). I usually don’t spend much time on there because it’s become a place of political strife and an easy outlet for people to say whatever they want without thought of consequence. But as I scrolled past New Year’s well-wishes and prayers for said New Year, I stumbled across an article about an author whose genre isn’t one I read, but I’ve always loved her rags-to-riches story.

And this one didn’t disappoint. It was short. It was sweet.


I’ve always loved writing. I can remember being a little girl with a diary and fingers that could barely write, penning about the mundane of my day.

I remember being a little girl with a dream.

It wasn’t particular. It was just a dream to do something amazing. A dream to follow my heart. A dream to be the best me I could be in everything I did. I was little. I was naïve about the way the world works. How growing up comes with lessons—good and bad.

Life sometimes gets us down. It tosses us around and makes us unsure. It’s normal. We can take that life and do something with it or we can wallow in the maybes. In the self-doubt. In the recrimination. In sadness. In anger. Or in joy.

This is life.

It’s the only one we have.

And I don’t know about you, but I’m not hanging out in the shadows this year—or any year. Will I publish a best-selling novel? I don’t know. I’m going to give it my all. And I’m going to have fun along the way. And if it isn’t everything I hoped? I’m going to keep trying until it becomes clear that I should change my path. Or until the dream is realized.

Sometimes the dream isn’t really the end, but the process.

And we should enjoy every aspect.

This isn’t a resolution. This is me. Promising myself and those I love that there will be good and bad, but I will give my all.

Here’s to inspiration in everything we do. Here’s to finding light in the dark. Here’s to enjoying the here and now.

Here’s to the journey.

Author pics

Rachel writes novels filled with murder, mayhem, and romance that leave her readers wanting more incredible twists and turns.

SIDE NOTE: A night-light may be required. Some bleary-eyed mornings have been known to occur. Coffee is recommended.

Rachel began weaving tales well before she could actually write. Those early stories included danger and mystery, Barbies and G.I. Joes, a few sensational heroes and their villainous counterparts. Sometimes the hero had to time warp through a hole in her backyard to save the damsel in distress and sometimes he only had to outwit the aforementioned villain.

Nowadays, she leaves the Barbies to her extremely cute daughter (who loves to create her own stories). When she’s not riveting readers with the chaotic and sizzling mess of her character’s lives, she can be found poolside with her husband, daughter, and two super snuggly dogs. She enjoys football, reading, spending time with her daughter, discussing the NFL draft with her husband, and spending time with friends and family. She also loves anything to do with the FBI, law enforcement, and the military. Although she’s extremely knowledgeable about time travel, she has never admitted she’s used this technique herself…

Check out her newest novel here.

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