Today I turned that sign around to the other side, which reads -- in equally execrable handwriting, for the same reason -- "You are the road-builder." And -- yah. This is not the one that's a multiple choice test. This is not the one where you can only choose to take or not take that left turn at Albuquerque. This is the one where you look at where you are and you look at where you're going, and if there has to be a machete and a shovel or possibly dynamite and steamrollers involved, you give this quiet little nod and get to it.
Or, to go at this another way, I have a plan, and beyond the plan I have a series of intentions, and none of them are at all the same thing as a resolution, but still, it's New Year's Eve, and it's nice to have some notion of where I might be headed from here, and how much the flamethrower is going to be required on the underbrush. But it is no longer required nor desired to tell me that I don't have to figure out which novel to write next right now. Even though I don't. Because, to first approximation of the timeline, I already know.
Happy New Year.