The goals I did not achieve

Every writing goal I made for the year is a wash.

It has been this way for a while, but I think it's important to be open about my failures and the reality of how life can get in the way. This is especially true considering the several times I have posted on Vocal about my writing goals, how I was changing my approach, and where I was hoping to be for the upcoming year. I will probably do that again in a couple months, but for now, it is time to acknowledge where I am today.

Back in January, I had lofty goals. I was going to attend events every month, enter contests, make myself business cards, and otherwise completely shift the way I looked at setting goals for my writing in the first place.

It was the first time I got anywhere with a Vocal contest. It was an Honorable Mention, but it was something. That felt like a good sign.

I started strong. I made an entry to at least one Vocal challenge for January and February. I went to a couple of writing workshops at the 53rd Street Library on the third Saturday of the month. In February, I interviewed a musician who was starting over on TikTok and caught my attention with a campaign to promote a contest he had entered.

I mapped out my plan for the article from that interview. I wrote a lead I loved. I was fleshing things out nicely and waiting on photos and name spellings to come through via email. My calendar had an open mic and two writing workshops scheduled, and with National Poetry Month on the horizon, things were looking bright.

But then March hit.

A student where I worked died on campus.

I had never met her, but that doesn't make it much easier, considering the nature of the work I do. My job became a mess of managing grief, trauma, burnout, and strong, unmanageable feelings of anger and resentment at things that happened in the aftermath.

It is the kind of incident that those in my field know can happen at any time in our jobs. It is the one call we dread the most. No one was prepared.

I spent every ounce of energy I had supporting the people around me. When I got home at the end of the day, I sat on my couch without bothering to turn on the TV, and time went on around me as my apartment got dark. I still don't know how many days passed that way.

I didn't write for a while. No quick poems or started and abandoned drafts. If I could bring myself to open a blank page, there was nothing to fill the space.

That interview from late February was scrapped. I sent my apologies about an emergency at work, and, eventually, I let it go.

April brought layoffs. My supervisor and a coworker were gone with no notice in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. Suddenly, my workload was doubled, and guilt was eating me alive. It was my position that was deemed unnecessary, but they cut someone else and shifted us around to fill the gap. I started job searching within a week.

May was a blur of working too much and too long in an office without functional air conditioning. June was about the same, but I got a job offer in July.

I gave my two weeks' notice, packed my apartment, moved, and started a new job within three weeks of my interview. Things were looking up. A fully staffed department meant a better work-life balance was on the horizon. I just had to push through August.

In September, I went to a free literary conference in Cleveland. I booked a hotel room downtown, and I spent a couple of days attending workshops, sharing my work, and starting new drafts to work on later. After the Inkubator conference, I purchased a membership for Literary Cleveland. I was recommitting to my goals, and I was ready to finish the year strong.

I came back to work to learn my department would be understaffed again. The rest of September through December flew by while I took on more work than I signed up for, and there is still no real end in sight. I am hoping for a change in February. I know I will be lucky if the situation is better by March.

As 2025 wraps up and so much uncertainty lies ahead, I am trying to rebuild a writing habit and find my way back to a writers' community. I am starting with a one-day writing retreat in January. Despite this year's failures, I am hopeful for more success in 2026.