Half-way Failed

So remember how at the beginning of the month I was all excited and had big plans for NaNoWriMo? And remember how I was all gung-ho about drafting book 3 in the DESCENDANT series this month?

Well. In case you’re wondering how it’s going, it’s not.

Let me explain: Kids with the flu, husband out of town, other stressful drama, late nights, early mornings, and a complete lack of inspiration=no words.

Well, I mean, I have like 3100 and change, but…it’s the 12^th. I should realistically have 24,000+.

I’ve never started NaNoWriMo and not finished. Never not written the expected 50,000 words. And guess what? I don’t plan to give up now.

What? You don’t think I can do it? I’m really very behind, and this week, I will be leaving town for five days—five more days of no writing. I’ve half-way failed, and yet…I still have hope. I know I can do it. Don’t ask me why or how, but after having written an number of books already, and having won NaNoWriMo each time I’ve participated before, I’m fairly certain I can actually still do it.

This year it may come down to me writing furiously at 11:00 pm on November 30^th to finish at the very last second, but—I believe I have it in me.

I believe I’m up to the challenge.

What about you? What’s your most difficult challenge these days?

Daily Defining Moments, Part III: Mean Girls

Situation #3:

Recently, a young girl I know went on a school-sponsored trip. After having her medications taken and held hostage by an unknown party for three days, then having her belongings hidden while she was in the shower, cold water dumped on her in the wee hours of the morning, among other things—this girl could have been vying for revenge. (Especially knowing that the culprits were girls once considered her good friends.)

But this particular young woman wasn’t. Through her hurt and frustration, she opted to take the high road. She didn’t play a single mean prank, even on the girls who wouldn’t leave her alone.

The explanation she gave was this: I don’t ever want to make anyone feel the way they made me feel. I’m not that person.

But it’s not an experience she wants to repeat, either.

So. In this instance, does our compassion make us stronger, or does turning the other cheek make us weak?

(FYI: Right now, I’m wishing Kenny Rogers had written a song about mean girls—cuz I can’t get his song Coward of the County out of my head.)

My conclusion: I’m not saying there’s a right or wrong way to handle any of the situations I’ve mentioned. I think it’s more about who we choose to be and how we react to the cards we’re dealt. In real life, as well as in fiction. As I recently heard quoted by a wise man (sorry, I didn’t catch the source), “It is our daily efforts and how we handle challenges that define us.”

So I ask myself:

1. Will I be defined by a pile of popcorn on the floor?
2. Will I be defined by hitting the ball that results in the winning run?
3. Will I be defined by the cruelties of others?

No, children, I will not. But I might be defined by how I react to all those things. And that, my friends, is the stuff of which personal growth is made.

How will you be defined today?