I’m trying to write a book. I very much hesitate to even throw that out there because what am I doing joining the ranks of hundreds of thousands of people desperate to get published in business that’s perpetually changing but consistently chews up and spits out its cud (i.e., writers)? Why even bother? What if I never finish? What if I’m a failure before I ever give myself the chance to fail? What if I never try?

For me, if I don’t try to write the book then I’m already failing because I feel like I’m supposed to give this a go, yo. That’s why I’m trying to write a book. Anybody else out there have a “book” that needs some writing?

I’ve talked about plot structure as being a model of real life story, something Don Miller describes so well in A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Perhaps you’ve heard me mention it before (slight/soaking-wet-with sarcasm)? I’m a nerd for Don Miller. By the by, I feel like I can call him “Don” now instead of Donald. No, we haven’t met. If we actually met, I don’t know, I might completely nerd out, beckoning myself to, “Speak, Mute! Say SOMETHING!” therefore, I’m not sure I’d ever have the guts to actually engage in conversation with him. But in my imaginary world, Don would want me to call him “Don” because I went to the trouble of creating that caricature after all.

Um, no wonder I wasn’t chosen for that conference that’s happening out in Portland this weekend. No, I’m not bitter. I’m doing okay with it all. The girl, Lori Ventola, who won the contest wants to start a mobile after-school tutoring program that helps homeless kids transition back into school. Yeah, kind of hard to compete with that. Someone had to go all noble and selfless with an incredibly brilliant idea and … I’m really not taking up space in the bitter barn anymore. Scouts’ honor.

I digress.

In A Million Miles…, Don talks about creating a good character who lives a good story. Real life necessitates the same attributes good story does. So it’s imperative to know what kind of character the character is. What makes him tick? What does she want out of life? Who is this person?

As an actor, I was taught to look for evidence of who the character is by watching what he says to other characters and does in the script, a lesson Don says was profound for him in studying plot and applying it to his own life story. This sort of investigation of the text builds the portrayal for the actor so he or she can make “choices” for them, since the character is what he does in the script.

Of course, in our own stories, we get to write our own choices. Unfortunately–or fortunately, depending on what type of protagonist you are currently, that or a masochist–the choices that make us into better protagonists are probably a skoach dicier than, “Yes, I would like room for cream in my coffee.” In this life we are faced with problems and conflicts, always reluctantly, but it’ what we do with them that is key. The Don says it this way in A Million Miles … :

“If the point of life is the same as the point of a story, the point of life is character transformation … in nearly every story, the protagonist is transformed. He’s a jerk at the beginning and nice at the end, or a coward at the beginning and brave at the end. If the character doesn’t change, the story hasn’t happened yet. And if story is derived from real life, if story is just a condensed version of life, then life itself may be designed to change us so that we evolve from one kind of person to another.”

Sheesh, Peeps. Please go buy this book already. I’m telling you with the sincerest of intent that you would be doing yourself a ginormous favor-and-a-half.

In this world, we will meet with trouble, but how will we rise up to meet it? Will we allow it to change us for the better? To shape and reshape and then categorically reinvent who we were before the action came up to bite us in the patootie? (Why will spell check not acknowledge “patootie” as a word yet? My iPhone already does…)

Needless to say, I’ve been spending a good bit of time asking myself about this protagonist, this heroine I’m trying to create with care. The process seems to be rubbing off on me personally though, as I’m now wondering if I’m the heroine I want to be in my own life story.

The Don says that once you’re aware of what needs to change in your own story, it’s nearly impossible to turn a blind eye to the thing. He says, “…you don’t have a choice. Not living a better story would be like deciding to die, deciding to walk around numb until you die, and it’s not natural to want to die.”

Indeed, it’s not.

So it’s worth my asking, How do I like my heroine? What kind of character will she be? What needs to happen to change her for the better?

What will it take to change me?

Sometimes I feel like I’m back in college (We are. Penn State.) taking that ballroom dance class to get out of a real gym/physical fitness credit with a partner who’s much too tall and steps on my feet. Constantly. I’m craning my neck to see him and moving out of the way to avoid disaster. That’s me trying to approach my own life. But I’ve decided it is a dance, bruises, blood blisters and all, and I’d rather learn the fox trot than just do the same old wind sprints over and over again.

Not that there’s a thing with conditioning, athletes. It’s just a metaphor, you know that, right? Well, it is and it isn’t; I was never very good at wind sprints.

In all sincerity, congrats to Lori Ventola, clearly a woman with a tremendous heart and spirit. The world has no choice but to be better with someone like you in it. Those kids in Denver are going to be so unbelievably blessed by the story you’re about to live out.

Happy weekend, folks. Peace and Amen.