The bossy dreamer.

Esperance (es-per-uhns): the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

Take chances, make mistakes. That’s how you grow. Pain nourishes your courage. You have to fail in order to practice being brave.

- Mary Tyler Moore

When I made the decision to part ways with my (very lovely, just not the right fit for me) agent last year, I happened to be nearing the end of a mastermind program led by Camille Pagán. I shared with that group of women the agony behind my decision, and how I felt like I was going right back to the starting line, something I wrote about in December (here or here is the full story, along with the incredible thing Camille said that helped me reframe things). One of the women, Janene Frank, asked me for my home address, saying she had a little something she wanted to send me. I gave it to her, never imagining how big a gift it would end up being.

2025 has always been a looming deadline in my mind because of my youngest daughter starting kindergarten, and with it the shift to both kids being in school for a good stretch of the day. This was the year my career would start, and I spent five years putting the building blocks in place so that it would be ready for me when my little five-year-old heaved herself up onto the bus the first day of kindergarten.

Well that plan—as I’d conceived it, anyway—spectacularly imploded. 

But then the book The Pivot Year showed up at my house, and with it the language for how to approach this year. This very meaningful gift from Janene gave me the framework for how to think about my future, what I want it to look like, and the structure for 2025. It could be my pivot year.

In the course of this year I’ve launched a company—with slow growth, but, as a friend pointed out, to have any clients and income at all is huge in just a few months—revised one manuscript that won’t be queried, and am in the process of revising the one that will. I’ve had to prepare pitch materials all over again, research agents all over again, and get my strategy ready all over again. And I’ve put a lot of thought into the future, professionally speaking.

I was listening to a podcast for writers (shout out, again, to Camille Pagán) where she talked about ambition. Excerpted and edited for length, she said:

“While Western culture celebrates and glamorizes success, there’s also a significant amount of messaging—especially on the individual level, directed to children—that you…should not actually reach your goals even though everyone else should. So get close, but don’t go all the way. As a child and young adult, you might have heard things like ‘it’s best to be seen and not heard,’ ‘don’t be greedy, keep your head down and don’t take credit,’ ‘pride comes before a fall,’ ‘hard work is its own reward,’ ‘who do you think you are?’...The messaging is even louder if you are a woman. Think about the many labels women receive when they even ask for what they want, nevermind get that thing. Bossy. Demanding. Diva. What’s the male equivalent? Oh, that’s right, ambitious.” (emphasis is mine)

Luckily my own parents were supportive and encouraging and didn’t say stuff like this, but the larger cultural commentary resonates. Because if you know me at all, you won’t be surprised by the labels I’ve collected during my life: bossy, pushy, loud, high maintenance, “too much.” I’ve reframed all of these for myself and am working to be sure my daughters receive these alternatives instead: a leader, not afraid to ask for what you want, comfortable using your voice, self-aware, a dreamer. But the point stands that a lot of people—women, in particular—are conditioned to believe they need to make themselves fit into the confines in which other people believe they should. That if they want more for themselves it means they’re dissatisfied with what they have. That if they have big dreams it means they’re self-important, too big for their britches. 

Well I’m here to tell you that the only limits that exist for you are the ones you create for yourself. You can love your life and still have big dreams. And if you do, it doesn’t mean you think you’re better than anyone else. It just means you think you can contribute something amazing to the world. From here on out, I’m reclaiming “ambitious” and I hope you do, too. It’s not something bad, scary, or self-important. It’s something beautiful and special that should be celebrated. If you’re comfortable, I’d love to hear in the comments what ambitions you have for yourself. And if you’re not but feel comfortable sharing privately, reach out and let me know. I’ll happily tell you it’s worth going after even if you’re not yet ready to tell that to yourself. 

One thing I’ve gotten very clear on this year is that I want my words to resonate with people. I write for me, but I publish these essays and keep pushing on the grueling path to fiction publication because I hope what I write will make a difference for someone. I am ambitious, and I do want more—in this case, I want to reach more people and make a wider impact. So, after long and careful thought, this issue marks a shift in how I publish and distribute these essays. They’ll still live on my website and come straight to your inbox as a subscriber, but they’ll also be posted on Substack and distributed via their platform. I’ve also posted all of my book recommendations there so that they’re accessible and easy to engage with, hopefully sparking conversation among book lovers about the books we love. 

If you’re not a Substack user your experience won’t change. If you are, though, I would love it if you could do me the favor of liking, restacking, and commenting on these posts. And if you’ve got some time and you’re so inclined, browse through and do the same for my back issues and book recommendations. It would help me immensely to expand my reach. And if you publish on Substack yourself and my content resonantes with you, please consider adding me to your recommended list of publications. 

I want to acknowledge that Substack, as a platform, is problematic on several fronts. They don’t appear to monitor and enforce hate speech very diligently, and the monetization aspect—for people who charge for subscriptions, something I don’t do but which still matters to people in my creative community—prioritizes the corporate profit over the creator’s, which unfortunately is all too common. But in my research and many years as a user, one thing I’ve seen time and again is that it’s a really good space for expanding community, for finding new readers, for facilitating conversations among followers, and for building new connections. For me, at this stage in the implementation of my plan to reach my goals, I hope it will be a way that my essays will reach new people looking for longer form content than traditional social media can provide. Substack seems to be social media for wordy people, for people who like to delve deeper, for people to love books. I also want to use it as a way to build engagement so these emails aren’t one-directional—you can more easily respond and participate in the conversation my essays will hopefully spark, both with me and with each other. I’d love it if you would leave a comment on this post so that we can start building that engagement together.

I also want to acknowledge that many of you are concerned about privacy. I am, too, and did my due diligence before making this change. I hate it when I sign up for one email I want and then get twelve more—and fourteen texts—I don’t. Changing to Substack as a distribution platform doesn’t change the fact that your data still lives with me, and doesn’t get sold anywhere. 

I’m excited about this change, and I’m excited about what this can mean for me. I have a friend who used to very graciously edit these newsletters for me, but I stopped asking her to because I realized I was enabling my own self-doubt. That having her edit them wasn’t about learning or growth, it was about needing someone to say, “yes, this is worthy of sharing.” She would still do it for me if I asked her to, but instead I’m learning to be comfortable trusting myself. I’m learning to be comfortable claiming my identity as a writer. This platform shift marks the next step for me on that front, in trying to share my work more widely, and in embracing the fact that I might not be an expert on anything, but I have a valid voice to contribute. I’ve worked hard to have a seat at this table, and I’m proud as hell of myself. Because you know what? To all the people who think “who do you think you are? Why should we read what you have to say?” I say this: why not me? Why not what I have to say?

And why not you, with regard to whatever dream you have for yourself, too?

I’m so grateful to each and every one of you who is on this journey with me, and I can’t wait to see what happens for us next.

Recommendations Roundup

Click on the image to read my short review.

Parting Shot

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. I know your time is limited, and you’re choosing to spend a slice of it here, with me. It’s a gift, and one I take seriously.

I wish you the peace that comes from living the life you want for yourself, the hope that comes from seeing your own potential, and the joy that comes from stepping back and feeling gratitude for it all. Go forth, my friends. I wish you well.