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“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”

…and honestly? It might just be the emotional life raft we all need right now. I mean, how many of us (myself included) crawl into bed at night replaying every awkward thing we said, all the chores we didn’t get to, and that one tiny typo we posted online that nobody but us even noticed?

Emerson’s basically yelling from the 19th century, “Stop marinating in your screw-ups!”

The Blunders Happen (And They Usually Don’t Matter)

Let’s be real: some blunders and absurdities creep in pretty much every single day. The other day, I sent an email to my editor with the subject line “Final Manuscript!!!” (three exclamation points… why??) and then immediately realized I had attached the wrong file. Like, instead of my perfectly polished draft, I attached a version with half-written scenes and notes like “INSERT SOMETHING CLEVER HERE.”

Did I panic? Yes.
Did I crawl under my desk and think about moving to a remote island? Also yes.
Did anyone die? …No.

Emerson would probably shake his head, pat me on the back, and say, “Forget it as soon as you can, you dramatic fool.” (Okay, maybe he wouldn’t call me a dramatic fool, but I feel like the quote gives off that vibe.)

The Beauty of the Daily Reset

The best part of his quote is that final line: “You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
That’s basically a fancy way of saying don’t drag yesterday’s drama into tomorrow. Burn it. Bury it. Yeet it into the sun.

Think about it—when you wake up after a good night’s sleep, fresh coffee in hand (or tea, if you’re one of those people), the morning always has this ridiculously hopeful energy. Birds chirping, sunlight sneaking through the blinds, everything smelling a little like possibility (and maybe toast). And yet we often ruin it by immediately remembering we forgot to answer Carol’s text or that we tripped over our own feet in front of the neighbors. Why do we do that to ourselves?

Real Examples (Because It Helps)

• You binge-watched a show instead of writing yesterday? Cool. Yesterday is gone. Write today.
• You said something kinda dumb in the group chat and now you’re replaying it in your head? Delete the memory. Your friends probably forgot about it 4 seconds after reading it.
• You ate half a cake at midnight and now you’re convinced you’ve ruined your diet forever? Nope. That was yesterday. Today is salad (or cake again, if we’re keeping it real).

The “Too High a Spirit” Mindset

I love that phrase. “Too high a spirit.”
Like, get yourself so full of optimism, caffeine, and “I got this” energy that your past mistakes literally can’t latch onto you. They try, but they just slide right off because your vibe is too strong. Think of it like wearing emotional Teflon.

What if, instead of waking up and thinking, “Ugh, I messed up yesterday,” you think, “Okay, today is wide open. Let’s see what nonsense I can turn into something awesome”?
(And your new nonsense? That’s tomorrow’s problem. Circle of life.)

So yeah…

Honestly, I kinda want to frame this quote and stick it on the fridge. Or tattoo it on my forehead backwards so I see it every morning in the mirror (a bit extreme, maybe). It’s such a great reminder that we don’t have to carry yesterday like a heavy backpack full of embarrassment and regret.

Drop the backpack. Step into tomorrow like a raccoon breaking into a trash can—confident, fearless, and mildly chaotic… but in a good way.

Here’s to starting tomorrow with ridiculously high spirits!

This post is a little tongue in cheek but let’s be honest — we all judge people based on their bookshelves. Not in a mean way (well… not always), but you know you’ve stared at someone’s collection and immediately made assumptions about whether they’d survive the zombie apocalypse or accidentally summon a minor demon because they thought a grimoire was a cookbook. Urban fantasy readers are a special breed — and the titles we proudly display on our shelves say a lot more about us than we might realize.

The Classic Urban Fantasy Collector

If your shelf is lined with the Dresden Files, Anita Blake, Mercy Thompson, and maybe the first ten Sookie Stackhouse_books (before things got a little… weird), then you’re probably the person your friends call when something mysterious and vaguely magical happens, like their phone starts glitching at 3:33 every morning. You love the old-school structure: detective + supernatural = comfort. Your bookshelf smells faintly of coffee, leather jackets, and that one candle labeled “Antique Bookstore” that you keep burning while reading because it “sets the mood.” You probably also have a strong opinion about which supernatural creature makes the best fictional boyfriend. (It’s werewolves. I won’t be taking questions.)

The Cozy Urban Fantasy Crowd

If your top shelf features things like The Innkeeper Chronicles by Ilona Andrews, The Ordinary Magic series by Devon Monk, and anything involving a magical bakery, coffee shop, or antique bookstore run by a secretly powerful witch — congratulations, you’re the kind of person who would absolutely bribe a fae prince with freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Your books are filled with gentle worldbuilding, quirky side characters, and low-stakes magical chaos. I bet your reading nook has fairy lights and at least one fuzzy throw blanket. Your version of a supernatural crisis involves an enchanted teapot spilling secrets rather than a demon trying to stab people in a Walmart parking lot.

The Dark and Gritty Reader

If your bookshelf leans heavily toward Sandman Slim, The Rook, The Coldfire Trilogy, or pretty much anything with “blood,” “grave,” or “bone” in the title, you’re probably not rattled by jump scares. Your coffee is black, your favorite candle scent is “storm-soaked cemetery,” and you absolutely would keep reading even after the main character loses a limb. Your bookshelves are probably arranged in color-coded chaos, and somewhere on that shelf is one really intense book that you use as a personal litmus test — if a new friend has read that one, you immediately know you can trust them with all your weirdest secrets.

The Romantic Urban Fantasy Devotee

If you’ve got Kate Daniels, Hidden Legacy, Guild Hunter, and Blood & Ash front and center (and maybe a small shrine to Patricia Briggs), you’re definitely in it for the spicy, banter-filled supernatural nonsense. You highlight your favorite snarky comebacks and bookmark the chapters with the “good tension.” You also have strong feelings about alpha males—but only when they’re respectful and slightly unhinged. Bonus points if you’ve got a matching candle labeled “Mysterious Vampire Boyfriend” somewhere nearby. Also, you absolutely would accept a cursed gemstone from a handsome stranger and only realize your mistake six chapters later.

The Indie & Hidden Gem Hunter

If your shelf is full of books no one else has heard of (“Oh, this one? It’s a Bulgarian urban fantasy about a time-traveling drag queen exorcist — you haven’t read it?”), you’re a literary adventurer. You devour self-published titles like snacks and you probably follow at least five “under-the-radar” book blogs. You’re the person the rest of us go to when we want a recommendation that isn’t already trending on BookTok. Your bookshelf looks less like a shelf and more like a chaotic, lovingly curated treasure trove. Honestly? We all desperately want to raid your collection and borrow something weird and wonderful.

The Chaos Mix

Of course, some of us (hi, it’s me) have shelves that are a wild mix of all of the above. One minute you’re reading about a gentle witch brewing magical tea in a cozy seaside town, the next you’re knee-deep in demonic blood wars and contemplating whether you could actually forge a sword if the need arose. If someone looked at your shelf, they might assume multiple people live in your house. No — it’s just you. Your reading taste is how you manage your emotional weather. Rainy mood? Cozy witch book. Feeling chaotic? Bring on the demon-slaying biker mage.

Honestly, that’s the magic of an urban fantasy bookshelf — it’s never just a stack of books. It’s a personality test. It’s a mood board. It’s a secret confession of how you want the world to be: just like this one, but with a little more magic, a little more mystery, and maybe a shapeshifting bartender or two.

So the next time someone steps into your living room and casually glances at your shelf, just know: they’re learning everything they need to know about whether you’re the type to summon a spirit… or the one who knows how to banish it.

You know that thing we all do where we’re waiting for the perfect moment? Yeah. That elusive, magical, unicorn-like time when the stars will align, the Wi-Fi will never cut out, our hair will cooperate, and we’ll finally be ready to start… whatever it is we’ve been putting off. Writing the book. Starting the business. Cleaning the hall closet that’s been quietly plotting our downfall for years.

Napoleon Hill—yes, the “Think and Grow Rich” guy—wasn’t having it. His take was pretty blunt: “Don’t wait. The time will never be just right.” And honestly? He’s right. The “just right” moment is basically the Bigfoot of productivity—there are rumors, but no credible sightings.

The Myth of the Perfect Moment

Here’s the thing: “waiting until you’re ready” is like waiting for bread to toast and butter itself. The readiness never really comes, because life is always in progress. There’s always going to be something—money, energy, confidence, emotional bandwidth—that’s not quite where you think it should be.

The perfect time is seductive, though. It whispers: Just wait a little longer… things will be easier then. Spoiler alert: they’re never easier. In fact, they often get messier. But our brains cling to the fantasy because it’s comfortable. It’s a tidy little excuse that saves us from doing the scary stuff right now.

My Experience With “Not Just Right” Time

A couple of years ago, I told myself I’d start a new project “when I had more time.” Guess what? “More time” never showed up. Apparently, it was busy hanging out with “spare change” and “free shipping on everything.” I had to start while I was still swamped, slightly stressed, and using coffee as my main food group.

And you know what? It wasn’t perfect—but it was progress. I learned that imperfect starts are still starts. Sometimes they’re even better than “perfect” starts because you build resourcefulness muscles along the way. It’s like learning to cook in a tiny kitchen—you become a ninja at making things work with what you’ve got.

Why We Keep Waiting Anyway

I think we’re all a little in love with the idea of readiness. It’s a warm, safe bubble. There’s no risk in waiting. No awkward first attempts, no visible flops, no “oh, wow, that was a disaster” moments.

But outside that bubble? That’s where momentum lives. The first step might be messy, wobbly, or even flat-out embarrassing. But at least it’s movement. Standing still never gets you to the next chapter.

The Tiny-Now Approach

The way I’ve learned to fight the “just right” myth is to shrink the starting line. Instead of saying, I’m going to write a novel this year, I’ll say, I’m going to write for 10 minutes today. You can do anything for 10 minutes. And here’s the trick—the small action almost always leads to a bigger one. Ten minutes becomes thirty. Thirty becomes a full scene. Suddenly you’re rolling.

If you keep waiting for the “big” start, you might never get it. But the small-now start? That’s always available.

A Quick Reality Check

If you think back to the last time you did finally start something important, was it because everything was “just right”? Probably not. It was likely because you hit that “enough is enough” point. You got fed up with your own excuses. That’s the magic—taking action before conditions are perfect.

Napoleon Hill didn’t mean we should be reckless or jump into things without a plan. He meant stop over-polishing the plan while the clock keeps ticking. There’s a point where “preparation” turns into “stalling with good lighting.”

The Bottom Line (But Not in a Boring Way)

Waiting for the perfect time is basically like holding your breath until your life is 100% chaos-free. You’ll pass out before that happens. So, start now. Start small. Start scrappy. Just… start.

It’s weirdly freeing once you accept that perfect timing doesn’t exist. You stop obsessing about “should I?” and start asking “how can I make this work right now?” It’s a mindset shift that makes all the difference.

So if you’ve got something sitting on your “someday” shelf—dust it off. Today might not be the perfect time, but it’s the real time. And real time is the only kind we actually get.