I spent some time tonight trying to decide what I wanted to be doing at the stroke of midnight. I could open a novel and start writing on one that has been sitting on a shelf for a while. I could finish my edits to Mutilated Dreams. I could start a brand new novel. I could do none of these things and instead curl up in bed next to my SO and Lola, if she stays in our bed, and wait for the stroke of midnight and the New Year’s Kiss. I could turn on a favorite show and make sure an episode that encapsulated life was playing and give it some symbolic meaning. Or perhaps turn over a new life, if just for the night, and open a bottle of water (since I’m on antibiotics there will be no alcohol during my New Year’s festivities) instead of a soda.
I could do any or all of these things and it would not matter. While the year is bound to bring some surprises, my 2016 is mostly planned, plotted, and ready to go… like a novel.
So instead, may the year bring you blessings and heal the wounds of 2015.