Fall Means Novel Time!

It’s autumn in New England, and that means it’s time to prep and write a novel.

For years I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), where a crazy person (me) tries to write a 50,000-word novel in November.

November.

The beginning of the holiday craziness, when you’re guaranteed to lose days to cleaning, shopping, cooking, and guests.

I tried for several years to write all those words and won one year. I quit after my last try, when some guy started talking dirty to me in the chats. It was absolutely exhausting to fend off some asshole when all I wanted to do was write and talk about writing. That, on top of the organization’s collapse, made it easy to walk away.

But fall still means writing to me, and fortunately several organizations have picked up the banner for a fall writing challenge.

This year I’m joining Novel November at ProWritingAid, where I’ve been a Premium subscriber for several years. It’s their second year hosting, and it’s free to join. October is prep month, and tomorrow (October 1) is the kickoff. I’m attending a presentation by Jessica Brody on how to develop an idea that can carry you through a month of writing.

That means I need an idea!

I’ve got several unfinished manuscripts, but I want something fresh to get me excited about writing again. Free-writing and brainstorming it is. I spent about an hour at it this morning, and here’s what surfaced:

  1. I like a good mystery. I recently read The Waiting and The God of the Woods and loved both.
  2. But I also love cozy. Yes, the world is a little too much, and there’s a reason Ted Lasso is so loved. Kindness and hope speak to me.
  3. No romance. I read one of those pumpkin-coffee-library romances this past weekend. I like all those things, but I wanted more story than the HEA: less misunderstanding that a simple conversation could clear up, and more tension, suspense, and mystery.
  4. No hard science fiction and no fantasy. I love both. I read Tolkien at twelve and have been an elf-and-magic-and-swords fan ever since, but I’m maxed out on fantasy for now. Also, cozy fantasy has been done so much. I’m not up to writing hard SF right now but cozy in space could be fun.
  5. The setting has to matter. It needs to be so relevant that the story couldn’t happen anywhere else. That pumpkin library story could have been set in New England, the Pacific Northwest, or England. It was actually set in Ireland, and I didn’t make that connection for the longest time. I don’t want a setting that’s interchangeable like that.
  6. The story has to be something I want to read.
  7. I need to have fun writing.
  8. A messy zero draft is required.
  9. It needs to be woman-centric.

That’s a lot, and it still isn’t a story.

Here’s the kernel of my plot: a woman in mining tech has been out on a mission for months, and she’s had a nasty disagreement with her colleague. They come back to a station for a brief shore leave before shipping out again. She’s looking forward to seeing her family.

Then the problems begin. She hasn’t been paid because her colleague filed a complaint against her. Her family isn’t on the station, and she doesn’t know why. Without money, the only place she can bunk is with the disagreeable colleague. Everyone else on the station has gone a little crazy for shore leave, and all she needs is a quiet place to figure this out.

Yes, it’s a space station, but think soft sci-fi: people and mystery first, tech second. I’m hoping the cozy comes from the community on the station and the kindness she finds there.

That’s all I’ve got. I’ll keep brainstorming as the month goes on, and I’ll report back after Jessica Brody’s presentation.

Are you doing a fall writing challenge this year? Tell me in the comments!

Failure Isn’t the End: Lessons from Creative Projects That Don’t Take Off

We don’t talk enough about failure. Not the big, dramatic kind, but the quieter, everyday kind that shows up when a project you’ve poured your heart into fizzles out. It’s discouraging. It can feel like proof that maybe you weren’t meant to be creative after all.

But here’s the truth: failure isn’t the opposite of success. It’s part of the process. And sometimes, what looks like a dead end is really just a detour toward something richer.


Every Project Teaches Us Something

Not every project becomes the next great novel, business, or TV show. But every project teaches us something. Even the ones that don’t “go anywhere” leave behind skills, practice, and lessons we carry forward.

The creators of Ted Lasso know this well. They had other projects that didn’t take off, pilots that never aired, and scripts that never got past the pitch. But the work wasn’t wasted. Each effort sharpened their skills, deepened their creativity, and built the trust and relationships that eventually brought Ted Lasso to life.

The same is true for all of us.


My Own “Failed” Story

When my children were little—before they went to school, when I was home all day and starved for adult conversation—I wrote a story. It was fantasy, full of magic, romance, and all the things I loved escaping into. I wrote more than 100,000 words.

And then I stopped.

It was fanfiction, and I felt embarrassed by it. I told myself I’d write “real” stories instead. But I didn’t. Not despite all the NaNoWriMos I signed up for, the writing group I started, the books I read, or the endless ways I talked about wanting to be a writer.

Looking back, I see where I failed: I stopped having fun. I let shame steal the joy from my writing. And without joy, the work fell flat.

It took me years to find my way back. But lately, I’ve returned to that very story. I’ll never share it—it’s laughably terrible in so many ways—but I am having fun again. I rediscovered the spark that first made me love writing. And that’s worth everything.


Resilience Is Built Through the Hard Stuff

Failure hurts. But it also shapes us. Each unfinished project, each setback, teaches resilience—not as in “powering through” but in being gentle with ourselves when things don’t turn out as we hoped.

That gentleness is what Ted Lasso himself embodies. He loses games, he gets knocked down, he struggles. But he never stops showing up, and he never stops believing in the possibility of something better.


Connections Matter More Than Outcomes

Another gift of “failed” projects is the people we meet along the way. Collaborators, writing partners, critique groups—sometimes those connections last longer than the project itself. And sometimes, they become the very team we need for the next success.

Just like the Ted Lasso creators built something remarkable by talking, brainstorming, and trusting each other, our own creative paths are enriched when we share them with others.


Seeds for the Next Success

Unfinished stories, half-done paintings, abandoned drafts—they’re not wasted. They’re seeds. Pieces of them will show up in your next work, and the next, often in surprising ways.

That fantasy fanfiction I wrote years ago? Even if no one else reads it, it’s feeding my current writing. The characters, the energy, even the mistakes—it all matters. Nothing is wasted.


Keep Creating

Failure isn’t the end of the story. It’s just part of the journey. Every project—finished or not—teaches, shapes, and prepares us for what comes next.

So if you’ve set something aside, don’t feel ashamed. Don’t tell yourself it was wasted. And if joy feels far away, maybe it’s time to circle back to what first made you fall in love with creating.

Because sometimes, the measure of success isn’t the applause at the end. It’s the fun we have along the way.

As Ted might say: keep showing up. Keep trying. And above all, believe.

This blog post was created with assistance from ChatGPT, an AI developed by OpenAI. The ideas and perspectives are my own, but I used ChatGPT to support the writing, editing, and refinement process.

Why Great Ideas Never Die: The Long Road from Inspiration to Reality

Lately, I’ve found myself reaching for comfort TV—something positive, kind, and hopeful. For me, that’s been rewatching Ted Lasso. In a world where the headlines feel heavy, this show feels like a breath of fresh air, reminding me that kindness, humor, and belief can carry us through the hardest of times.

And as I’ve been reading Believe: The Untold Story Behind Ted Lasso, the Show That Kicked Its Way into Our Hearts by Jeremy Egner, one idea has struck me again and again: great ideas don’t die.

The Ted Lasso we know today—the one with biscuits, locker room speeches, and that iconic yellow “BELIEVE” sign—took years to come to life. The idea lingered with its creators, never fading, always waiting for its moment.

It makes me wonder: maybe the ideas that stay with us are the ones we’re meant to see through.


Great Ideas Hang Around

Not every idea sticks. Some come in a flash and fade just as quickly. But every once in a while, an idea takes root somewhere deeper. It nags at you in the best way—showing up in daydreams, conversations, or those quiet moments before you fall asleep.

These are the seeds worth paying attention to. They may not sprout overnight, but they stay alive under the surface, biding their time until the right conditions appear.


The Long Road Isn’t Wasted

The story of Ted Lasso reminds us that delay isn’t failure. An idea that takes years to become reality isn’t weaker for the wait—it’s often stronger. Sometimes we need time to grow into the person who can bring the idea to life. Sometimes the world needs time to be ready to receive it.

The long road teaches us persistence. It shapes us. And when the idea finally blooms, all those years of waiting and working give it depth and heart.


The Power of People and Positivity

Another truth I love: creativity rarely happens in isolation. The Ted Lasso team found each other, and in talking through their ideas, refining them, and leaning on one another, the show became richer.

Kindness and collaboration invite creativity. When we gather with the right people—people who encourage, listen, and share our belief—our ideas grow stronger. Just as Ted built a team by lifting others up, our own dreams flourish when we surround ourselves with the right community.


Keeping the Faith

There’s a reason that simple, hand-drawn “BELIEVE” sign resonates so deeply. It’s not just about winning a football match—it’s about keeping faith when the outcome isn’t certain.

Belief in your idea doesn’t always mean shouting it from the rooftops. Sometimes it’s quieter: writing one more page, sketching one more design, talking it through one more time with a trusted friend. It’s the daily choice to treat your idea with patience and kindness, even when no one else can see it yet.


An Invitation to You

So if there’s an idea that’s been following you around for months, years, maybe even decades—don’t dismiss it. Don’t tell yourself it’s too late. Great ideas don’t die. They wait. They grow. And when the time is right, they find their way into the world through you.

In the meantime, nurture it. Believe in it. And most importantly, believe in yourself.

Because as Ted himself might remind us: a little optimism, a little kindness, and a lot of belief can take us farther than we ever imagined.

This blog post was created with assistance from ChatGPT, an AI developed by OpenAI. The ideas and perspectives are my own, but I used ChatGPT to support the writing, editing, and refinement process.