That being said, I feel good, on the borderline, standing on the precipice between dreams achieved and nightmares realized (in a good way?). 2012 feels like the beginning. Last year, when I thought about the year before, I was still pretending to be an author. This year, I've had my novel (THE NEW FLESH) accepted for publication and coming out next summer and a novella (FEVERED HILLS) coming out in a couple of weeks.
At the same time, I'm a little freaked out--I've graduated to the next class of writers and I'm currently sitting on the bottom of the pack. My short fiction still needs work. I have very little of my work published and available to establish myself in the world. The novel I'm working on now, that I was hoping to finish by New Years, has taken an unexpected twist and I think needs at least another 10,000 words before the first draft is complete. Then it still needs a lot of work in the next draft. So, that's on the agenda for 2013.
Also for 2013, I have another novel rattling around in my head, a few shorter pieces, including at least two that are probably novellas, a graphic novel project, and a whole lot of learning how to conduct myself as a writer at readings and how to self-promote and market my work. I'm nervous.
But I'm also excited. Because I'm moving forward. It feels great to know I'm not just fucking around. The best thing about 2012 is the confidence I've gained in my abilities to write something substantial and meaningful that is worthy of publication and the eyes of readers.
I wish you all the best for 2013.