With a new year starting in less than 48 hours, an annual resolution lists seems important, and maybe more so than usual. My approach to goal setting diverges sharply from last year; each one hinges solely upon my actions.

Before listing specific action items, though, let me explain the rationale for this change, as the reasoning behind those points are actually more important than the goals themselves.

The departure traces back to a lesson about wrestling the universe: When trying to exert control that is not mine to own, while it may appear like my efforts affect the outcome—I might even believe, or delude myself briefly that my influence will out—when facing a superior force with that attitude, I will lose. On the surface, that rings a bit defeatist. Incredibly it’s the reverse, because the battle is actually me vs. myself to begin with.

Well, myself and the trolls. And again, I almost jump ahead of the point. It’s definition time.

By trolls I mean obstacles—real or imagined—that obstruct personal development. Each writer faces their own breed of the little nasties. By superior force I refer to the energy spent worrying about how someone might receive, or not receive my writing. That mentally created troll rates as my single biggest stumbling block since embarking on this journey. Approval—or rejection—of others is a greater force largely because I regarded it as such. Maybe it wasn’t ever a problem, yet I stressed until it became one. A troll feed; a troll nurtured; a troll grew fat and menacing thanks to my own hand. See ultimately, a troll is only a cretin in the way. They block the bridge, because that is their job. Perhaps something to do with unions, maybe. But answer the question and the troll shall let ye pass. Argue with the troll’s right to guard the bridge and ye shall both grow gray together.

Effective immediately, I will no longer aid, feed or comfort the enemy. In fact, I will no longer consider the troll an enemy. He’s only doing what he must. And I’m doing what I must, too.

Here are my answers for the trolls in 2007:

1) Enter twenty(20) fiction writing contests that pay cash prizes in excess of $300 and publication in a respected periodical, annual or magazine.

2) Pitch the novel to 40 agents/editors. Roughly 1.5 individuals in the business per week. Er, Roughly 1 individuals in the business every 6 working days. Or 1 agent per week, excluding summer break.

3) Launch guerrilla marketing campaign for the novel. The details of this plan must remain under wraps because it’s the only truly original idea I’ve ever had about hawking fiction. If it works, I’ll gladly disclose the details.

4) Finish a draft of The Confession before beginning another large writing project.

To all who read this site: I wish you all the best in 2007.