The First Thing You Need to Do to Be Successful

Everyone wants the secret. The shortcut. The perfect routine that leads to instantaneous success.

But at the risk of this blog post being labeled clickbait, there is no immediate button you can press to be successful. No magic pill you can take or star you can wish on.

But I do know what has to be aligned and fully functioning to be successful. And it all comes down to one thing.

Energy.

No, not what Nikola Tesla wanted to give to the world for free.

Personal energy — the stuff that keeps you going.

Energy fuels creativity, focus, your curiosity, your patience with a messy first draft, your willingness to sit down again tomorrow.

And if you let everything else drain you first, there’s nothing left to write from.

Energy Is Your Writing Taskmaster

Most people talk about making time to write, but that’s only half the equation.

You can carve out an hour on the calendar and still have nothing to give if you feel depleted. You’ll sit down, stare at the screen, and it feels like trying to push a car uphill. That “free” time does nothing for you if your energy is non-existent.

Protecting your writing life means protecting the part of you that wants to write at all.

So, how do you do that? Cut out your biggest drains.

For most people, that looks like:

Avoiding People Who Drain You

This is hard because you may not be aware of how draining they are. It’s not always dramatic toxicity on par with a “Housewives of” show from your town.

Energy drains can be subtle:

The friend who turns every conversation into a complaint session, and you come away feeling worse about the world than when you sat down with them.

The family member who “checks in” but leaves you tense from all the questions.

The social circle that expects you to be constantly available, constantly agreeable, constantly on.

This isn’t villainizing anyone. People are like chemical elements. Some people help us make something very useful (say sodium and chlorine making table salt). Those pairings add value. But that same element, chlorine, mixed with ammonia creates a toxic vapor. Neither element is to blame. But the latter is a hazardous situation.

After you spend time with someone, do you feel clearer… or smaller?

Do you feel more like yourself (or the person you want to be)… or like you need a map and a shovel?

Guarding your energy means getting honest about who is your sodium and who is your ammonia.

Avoid a Job That Takes Everything From You (if you can)

I know this one isn’t simple. People have bills and responsibilities. Not everyone can quit a draining job tomorrow.

But you can stop pretending it doesn’t cost you.

If your work leaves you emotionally fried, mentally numb, or physically exhausted, writing is going to feel impossible because you’re running on fumes. Creativity runs on a full tank.

If you can’t quit a draining job, maybe you can:

  • Create boundaries around availability.
  • Take your lunch break away from your desk.
  • Refuse extra tasks that aren’t yours.
  • Plan your writing for your best window, not your leftover one.
  • Even small changes can give you your mind back.

Say No to More Things So You Can Say Yes to Writing

Most people trying their hand at writing have other things going on. And most of those things take precedence, like earning a living, spending quality time with loved ones, etc. That’s fine. Everyone needs to know what their priorities are.

But your priorities don’t have to include volunteering for every group that asks.

Most of us say yes to everything else first before saying yes to ourselves.

That means yes to obligations. Yes to favors. Yes to “quick calls.” And events you don’t want to attend. Yes to responsibilities that aren’t actually yours. This is especially true the better you are at those things. People know you’re an easy yes who will get what they need done.

This is problematic when you try to write with whatever scraps remain after your thousand yeses.

If you want to be successful, you have to treat your energy like a budget. You don’t get an unlimited supply.

If writing matters, it has to get the first cut — not the leftovers.

Don’t Vegetate in Front of the Television

I’m going to say something that will rile people up: TV is an energy drain disguised as rest. It’s passive. It lulls you. It puts you into a state where your mind is consuming instead of creating. And it takes longer portions of your day than you think it does.

An episode becomes three. “Just for a minute” becomes the whole evening. One Game of Thrones episode takes more of your day or night than a movie does because you can’t watch just one.

That doesn’t mean never watch TV. I’m not anti-TV. Just don’t let passive entertainment become the default way you recover from life.

Choose things that invigorate you instead of sedating you:

  • A walk.
  • Music.
  • A conversation with someone who energizes you.
  • Reading something that wakes your mind up.
  • Journaling.
  • Sitting outside with a cup of coffee and letting your brain wander on purpose.
  • The goal is not productivity. The goal is vitality.

My Rule With TV (and Why It Works)

I watch TV in my dormant stage. That’s the in-between season — when I’m finishing one book mentally and circling the next one. When I’m thinking. Gathering. Letting ideas percolate.

But once I decide what the next book is and I start writing?

I move away from TV watching and limit it to certain hours. I cut it down on purpose because I know what it does to my creative energy. It makes writing feel farther away. It keeps my brain in consumption mode. And consumption is where we get fat and happy, not where we have the hunger to create something amazing.

Guard Your Energy Like Your Work Depends on It

Because it does.

Before you worry about marketing or the perfect outline, before you worry about how long it’s taking, ask this:

What’s draining me that doesn’t deserve access to my creative life?

Protect your energy.

Success isn’t built on willpower alone.

It’s built on having enough life left in you to put words on the page — and enough clarity to come back and do it again.

Finally, if you realize you don’t have the emotional energy to write your story, you don’t have to do it alone. Bring in a partner who can help keep you on target and walk you through the emotional minefield of your story. I can help.

I’ve Never, Ever Done This Going into a New Year

I am a list maker, a thinker, and a goal-driven middle-aged girl.

Yes, all those things. (And yes, the phrase middle-aged “girl” is probably best understood by most of my Gen X compadres.)

But for the first time in my “adult” life, I went into this new year with absolutely no goals, promises, or resolutions.

It just wasn’t in me.

Oh sure, I thought about them.

No Resolution Rose to the Top

I have plenty of things I can work on to better myself and improve my career. But none called out to me. No area of my life seemed more poignant than another, demanding my attention and the righting of the ship, so to speak.

Since the turn of the calendar page, I’ve asked myself why I didn’t follow my usual zeal of creation and promises into the new year and it came down to several things.

  1. I’m in a different season of life. My kids left for college this past August. In some ways I have more free hours, but in others I’m facing new demands on my time and patience. Creation seems more difficult for me these days. It feels like a season to replenish, to let the fields grow fallow for a moment or two, to catch my breath.
  2. I want my choices to be impactful. This year, it was all about timing. The end of the year happened too quickly. I was in the driver’s seat for holiday celebrations and I believed that I was at the center of making everyone’s every meal as well as ensuring all of their Christmas delights were incorporated into a two week period. That left me emotionally exhausted with very little time for introspection. (Something I really need.) I didn’t want to default to the obvious resolution–lose weight, get in shape (although that’s a good idea and I have a lot of work to do in that area). I also couldn’t quite pinpoint the answer to the old question of “What’s the one thing you can do today that would have the biggest impact on your tomorrow.”
  3. I’m worn out. I’m not naturally a people person. I felt worn out by social commitments this year. I need some extra time to recharge. That’s why I’m taking a groundhog approach to early 2026. Hoping to see my shadow in the spring. Until then, I plan on a little hibernation and being more selective with my social obligations.

At the end of 2025 I gave myself permission to ease off the gas pedal and I’m working now on protecting my time.

I guess that in itself could be a resolution. (See how hard it is for me not to latch on to something? I’m a work in progress.)

As you metaphorically write your story this year, it’s important to understand that every chapter is different. Some are page turners and others are plot builders for future action.

But both are essential.

What type of chapter are you in right now? Are you in the middle of a big build-up or a plot twist? Perhaps, you’re learning something about the main character.

Give yourself permission to enjoy each chapter and what it offers to the greater story.


If you’re ready to explore the deeper themes in your life or help others learn from your experiences, I can help. Contact me today and let’s talk about you and how we can get your story out into the world where others can enjoy it and apply your lessons to their own challenges.

Shiny Squirrel and Other Distractions

Six weeks ago, my husband and I were in New Orleans, setting of The Confederacy of Dunces (a book you really should read) and home to Anne Rice. There, we ate pizza slices the size of our heads and visited a psychic, not at the same time. Pizza first.

I am a believer that some people know things that others don’t but this gentleman knew only stereotypes. He warned me about gossiping at work. I’m a self-employed writer. Who am I gossiping with? My dog? Gossip is only good when someone joins you and I assure you my dog is not a very vocal audience. Somewhat disappointing, if you just know. She is like my teenaged kids. She mainly just wants to go out.

Anyhoo, the psychic spent 15 minutes giving us relationship tropes and stereotypes.

Nothing hit home.

Until he said this…

You can’t do it all. Pick one thing and get good at it.

Now he said it in context to us as a couple, and that doesn’t fit, but it sure fits me as an author.

I’m all over the place.

Maybe that’s the creative side of me.

I’m currently working on 3 novels, 1 memoir, launching a TikTok whatever they’re called (channel?), creating a podcast, blogging, and a hundred other things, the least of which is the first one in the list.

To be a great writer, you have to write.

But to be a writer who gets to eat, you have to market yourself and your projects.

So I’m going to take the not-so-psychic guy’s advice in 2022 and dial it back, creating consistent habits of things I know I can accomplish like:

  • working on one compilation of short love stories for people who hate love stories.
  • getting out there on TikTok (obvious self promotion: @Christina.metcalf).
  • recording and launching a podcast on quick ideas to help the creative process.

Notice the pattern there?

Short.

Everything is going to be bite size. Because while I hate tapas (never large enough), I love small, quick projects.


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I’m Giving Up on Meditation. Convince Me Otherwise.

meditation and fiction

I like quiet.

That’s no secret.

That’s why I had twin boys.

I also like rainy days.

That’s why I moved to the Sunshine State.

While my decisions don’t always make sense, the older I get, the more I understand about myself.

And if there’s one thing I know, I can’t meditate. It’s not that I can’t quiet my mind. I’m actually very good at thinking about absolutely nothing.

I don’t get anything out of meditation other than maybe some well-needed sleep.

It doesn’t calm me or inspire me. It doesn’t make me feel healthier or more in touch with the secrets of the sphere.

You see, in order to effectively meditate I think you need to transcend the sarcasm level of the brain and I am just not able to move past that.

But I will offer one piece of advice for those of us who are meditation challenged…

maybe you’re not meant to enter into a deeper level of consciousness by someone talking to you or some bowl from a far-off land gonging. Maybe you need something different.

I’ve discovered my ideal morning meditation…I read.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CA-T7lkp1Rw/

My perfect morning consists of a beverage and a comfy spot on my balcony on a day when the humidity in the air is closer to 70% than 100. I find that as I read my pages, I lapse into a calm that is good for my spirit and so much better than inhaling and exhaling to someone else counting. I also have amazing thoughts and inspiration as I “meditate” to the written word.

Anyway, that’s what works for me.

Have you perfected meditation or are you like me and just don’t get how people stay awake during it?

Train Wrecks and Letting Go

Writers are observers.

I tend to be less quick to react in situations because I find myself wanting to watch how it will turn out without getting involved, something I knew would keep me from ever becoming a first responder.

Writers constantly narrate our days in our head as things are happening.

That’s what I consider the difference between a writer and a wannabe. It’s in your blood or it’s not. That’s not to say you’re born with the skills to be a writer. None of us are. We need to learn the language first.

But you are born with a natural capability and inclination to observe and you hear the words in your head as you go about your day. (That being different from hearing voices, of course.) And you care about word choice and you critique TV shows for plot lines and unrealistic dialogue. Language is an obsession for most writers.

And we have other weird quirks.

I read everything allowed as if the words are beats. I break grammar rules so that it “sounds” right using unnecessary fillers like “just” and “some” if I need a longer sentence and pattern. I use commas, not where they are appropriate or dictated by Chicago Manual of Style or Oxford, but where I want the reader to slow down and taste the sentence.

Writers are also ruined.

They have significant impressions on their psyche that they dwell on. Some are small things they like to incorporate into their writing often, like a setting or a particular kind of animal. While other impressions are longer lasting like a question they are trying to answer. For me, I often turn to trains, mechanical failings of things thought to be indestructible, and unrequited love.

And when I write that authors are ruined, that doesn’t mean we all grew up in abject poverty and abuse. It means that somewhere along the way something bothered us enough that we return to it over and over.

In West of You, I told a story of someone who died in a train “accident.” This was plucked straight out of a story I could not process as a child. A well-known painter drove into a railroad crossing and was killed with his name-sake/grandchild in my hometown. I knew the spot well and when I was told about it as a ten-year-old I could not understand how an accident like that could happen with such good visibility to an oncoming train. He had to have seen it. Did he simply freeze or was there a darker intention?

I still think about it nearly 40 years later.

But I suppose it’s not just writers who get caught up on things we can’t let go. All of us do. We repeat the same stories to our friends. And we do this because these stories had such a profound impact on us that we can’t shake the truth behind them.

For some people, these impressions ruin their lives by leading to a series of bad decisions. For others, they become fuel that fires their worldview. For writers, it hopefully becomes our bread and butter and possibly fuel for some bad decisions along the way and more stories.

What are the themes or objects you keep coming back to in your life? Knowing what they are can help you clear out some of the unnecessary clutter in your mind or better yet…

help you dive deeper into the abyss.

Dude, Kittle

Kittle on the left in happier times

My best friend took her own life on March 21, 2017. I remember because the date was 3,2,1, which I now refer to as “blast-off day.”

The book West of You is not for her.

It’s for those of us left behind.

Kittle never reached 45. She chose to check out prematurely, leaving no note, and no guidance as to how I was supposed to get through all the ridiculous changes of middle age.

West of You is not her story.

But it is a story of loss and the incredible hole left by a loved one who takes their own life. No other death leaves the same kind of raw, gnawing guilt for the survivors.

Suicide doesn’t end pain; it simply transfers it.