It’s time to start being honest.

It wasn’t working. None of it was.

Maybe it was the changing of the seasons. Maybe it was the general Creative’s Malaise that comes with feeling as though we’re always pushing a boulder uphill.

Maybe it was nothing.

Whatever it was, though, an unyielding sense of oppression had imposed itself on me, lurking long enough that it forced me to question if the only way forward was to examine the very meaning of the word.

So I threw it all out—my project timelines, my year-end goals, my baser assumptions about the writing process itself.

Then, free of all expectation—but still wracked with the sensation that I must write—I wrote, and what filled the page were the beginnings of the most personal tale I’ve told to date.

For a few weeks now over on Twitter, I’ve been teasing this project in ambiguous terms, but it’s time, I think, to be more open about what lies at the heart of this new journey.

Every creative will confront unique obstacles in their artistic, personal, and professional lives, but many of these hurdles are, when it comes right down to it, of a similar essence.

Every one of us will face disappointment. Every one of us will experience grief. Every one of us will bask in the warming light of glee.

And, through it all, our relationship to our creative endeavors will shift, change, and grow.

So, for the first time, I’ve elected to open up about my own experiences confronting disappointment, grief, and glee as part of an exploration of how each of these played pivotal roles in my journey to becoming an author.

This venture isn’t only about me, though. It’s about you. Us.

As I wrote in the first chapter of this new manuscript, our creative destinies aren’t reached, they’re lived, and I’m determined to not just live that destiny, but to embrace it and the vulnerabilities that come with holding it near.

I’ll have more to say on this project in the months ahead, but know I’ll be thinking of you as I write. I’ll be thinking of our conversations at conferences, of our exchanges at book signings, of our emails and podcast interviews and guest blogs.

I’ll be thinking of you because, again, this isn’t my story. It’s ours.

More to come.