Courage have I none. Sure. I teach high schoolers. And I have two adult children. And two dogs. And a crap-ton of ambition. But Courage Have I None.

It’s not that big a deal to hike sections of the Appalachian Trail and encounter a rattlesnake. I just squeal and give it some space because what else am I supposed to do? And when I see a bear from a distance? Clap my hands and yell “bear” and watch it run away while I just keep hiking as quickly and unobtrusively as possible in the opposite direction.

It doesn’t take a lot of courage to camp. Not when you have your best friend. Or your husband. Or your two big dogs.

It doesn’t take a lot of courage to have an opinion when I’m not that fast to share it with people who might disagree with me.

But it does take a lot of courage to write a damn novel. And then rewrite it over and over and over again for 20 years. Yeah. 20 friggin’ years.

Polishing the Bones is an act of love. I love the people who inspired the book (cough..looking at you L. and P.). And I loved writing the book. And I love the characters in the book who remind me of people I love (cough…looking at you L. and H.). I sometimes love editing the novel. Most times, though, I just feel discouraged because it feels so damn bad.

Yes, this is in my head. Welcome to the nuances of Gracelesscurran’s genie lamp head. But that is my truth. My head doesn’t love my novel the way my heart does. But I have dreamed about the characters. Hell. I dreamed about them last month. I think they were mad at me for giving them some space while I talked with Hattie.

But courage is walking away from what I love to do something else. Courage is knowing that my first love is still incubating and needs me to take a break from it because it’s not a divorce and I’m not abandoning my love. I’m just tucking it aside and saying to it, “Not right now” and it squats like a chubby, angry, hungry baby bird and glowers at me.

Courage is coming back, though. After riding a high for the end of November, I finally decided that while I am writing on a consistent basis there was no reason to stop so don’t stop. Take a pause. Give the fingers and the mind a break. Enjoy some Writer’s Tears whiskey (very smooth) and then, haul the computer back onto my lap and bring the characters back to the forefront and write and write and write some more.

Courage is saying that the writing is not terrible. That it’s not bad and that my brain is just a jerk but a lovely jerk because my brain also created this world and these characters so maybe my brain isn’t so awfully awful after all.

Courage is reading my words for the umpteenth time because I have worked on this book for so long and poured so many words into the writing that I have created my own numerical system. And courage is sending it back to my editor and writing group and readying myself for another go-around.

And courage is also realizing that I’m coming to an end, once more. That I’m taking my writing as far as it can go at this point and maybe, just maybe, I’m ready to start sending it out one more time. Because I have more publishing credits. And I have learned. And grown. And improved.

Courage have I some. I am no cowardly lion. Just a humble wordsmith looking for an agent and another story to write and another month to give me inspiration and determination to put fingers to keyboard one more time.