In December of 2012, we were living at my mother's house. We had scrimped and saved to buy a little bit of Christmas and then found out that our ward had donated a Christmas to us.
Nothing like finding out you're the poorest person in the church building the Sunday after Christmas, and that everybody knows it.
My husband had decided to start his own law firm, but didn't have an office or anything yet. So he was answering phone calls in the back room of the retail store he worked at to pay the few bills we had.
I was physically recovered from an especially long and drawn out miscarriage (I watched the baby die over the course of six weeks in a series of increasingly depressing ultrasounds and then waited three more weeks for my body to actual realize it wasn't pregnant and expel the fetus). I was also convincing myself that I was mentally recovered, but in reality it would be months before I was back to normal.
On New Year's Eve, 2012, I finished the first draft of my Snow White retelling and shipped it off to the most patient CPs ever.
I had no idea where we were going to live.
Or if the "law firm" (remember: at the time, the "law firm" was just a cell phone and some dreams) was going to take off.
I was broken and I was scared and I considered myself a complete hack, because that first draft of Snow White SUCKED.
I am sitting at my kitchen table in a beautiful home. We don't own it, but we pay for it every month, and at this stage of life, that's just as good.
My husband is not home because he is working very hard on a case and he wanted to give his two employees the holiday off to be with their families.
We're on a waiting list to adopt.
My Snow White novel is doing well on the query circuit. Multiple full requests, a couple of R&Rs from agents I respect very, very much. It's close. I can feel it.
I have a rough draft of a Sleeping Beauty retelling, and while it's definitely a first draft, it's about 600% better than Snow White was at this time last year. I also have a synopsis of the coolest story anyone has ever thought of. I'm sorry if you think your story is cool, because when you see this one, you will no longer think that.
I'm working on being humble, guys.
The point of this post is this:
Stuff changes. Sometimes it gets worse. If you had asked me on New Year's Eve 2012, I would have told you that things were going in the wrong direction. But they turned around. And they actually turned around really quickly after that night.
And now things are good. So good, in fact, that I feel like I'm finally stable enough to actually make goals for next year.
See you in 2014. When more stuff will change.