wild ideas, SMART goals

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

-Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day”

My first book was published today, September 15th, 2025. Arts-Based Research in Theatre and Performance reflects years of research and backwork, months of writing, and editing. And as it finally makes its way out into the world, I reflect on how I almost did not write it, and how I almost did not do many of the most important things in my life.

In high school, I almost did not go to an audition for a student production of A Chorus Line. My friend Franki was giving me a ride home from an AP US History session (or something). She mentioned that she was going to an audition and asked if I wanted to tag along. I was hesitant, not prepared for an audition, really, so the idea was sort of wild for me, and I was nervous. But I think I sang “Take Me or Leave Me” from Rent, a song Franki and I performed for a talent show junior year. The audition must have been decent or they did not have anyone else to play the part because I ended up getting cast as Val, tits and ass. I loved working with this student theatre company and was thrilled to be cast as Magenta in the group’s subsequent production of Rocky Horror Show (the actual musical, not the movie sing-along—if you don't know the musical, it’s amazing). After an audition I almost did not attend, I met amazing people and performed the only speaking roles I had in high school plays.

In college, there was another audition I almost did not attend. It was the beginning of my sophomore year, I was in the hospital. Doctors thought I had appendicitis, but after an overnight in the emergency room, they discovered I did not. The day I got out of the hospital, my friend Fran was going to an audition. I was tired and reluctant—an audtion after a night in the ER was a wild idea—but I went (with my appendix) and performed my Val monologue (of course) for director and professor Carole Bellini-Sharp who would, in time, cast me in this and two other plays, hire me as her teaching assistant, and write recommendations for two graduate degrees. Carole was the reason I stayed at and finished school and then wanted to do more school. And I would not have met her if I would have let self-doubt stop me from doing something wild.

And I almost did not write the arts-based research book that comes out today. I had lots of reasons not to. It seemed like a particularly wild idea, writing a book! Academics usually write books for their tenure files: the idiom “Publish or perish” describes the immense pressure they face to produce scholarship, maintain status in their academic field and prove that they deserve their job. Since I was not a professor, I had nothing to maintain or prove to anyone. So what was the point of doing the book? Plus, the proposal I wrote for the book was not going to be merely a repackaging of my dissertation (as many first-time academic books can be). I was going to have to do a lot of work, and the contract had a deadline that was only five months away, so I would not have a lot of time. But really, the real reason I almost did not write this book, after spending years proposing ideas, receiving rejections, and feeling defeated: I had finally convinced someone that I could write a book, and I was not sure I could actually write a book. I spiraled through self-doubt and escapism, got addicted to the Building Blocks game for a week or two. But eventually, I moved through fear and made a plan.

I hate to say it because I feel like it is super corporate and cheesy, but I set a SMART goal for myself. If you are unfamiliar, SMART goals are specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time-bound. That is:

Specific: Clear, focused, well-defined

Measurable: Trackable

Attainable: Realistic based on time, resources, and constraints; achievable based on past productivity or others’ outputs in similar feats

Relevant: Aligned with personal values, other goals, and/or the needs of a community

Time-bound: Within a given temporal frame

For the book my goals could be described like this:

Specific: I wanted to write a book about arts-based research in theatre and performance. The publisher gave me a desired/standard word-count: 70,000 words. I already had about 10,000 words from my dissertation, the book proposal, and notes, so I would need to write 60,000 new words in total. For this kind of academic writing, I can do 1000 words or four double-spaced pages per day. This all meant that I had three months of writing time and about two months of editing.

Measurable: This was easy because words are automatically counted in a document. Every day I could see how close I was to my thousand-word mark. Some days the goal was easier to hit than others.

Attainable: I it was a possible goal to complete because of my experiences in graduate school preparing for comprehensive exams and writing my dissertation.

Relevant: Throughout the writing process, I kept this guiding idea in my mind: This book is meant to be of service to both students and scholars. I am writing it for anyone who is curious about arts-based research or experimental writing but not sure where to start.

Time-bound: I would write 1000 words per day, 5 days per week for three months, that is, 12 weeks. So, 1000 words*5 days*12 weeks=60,000 words. That left two months for wiggle room/editing time.

And then I held myself to it. I woke up most writing days at around 6 AM and tried to get my words in before noon, when I would get to go and do errands, take naps, and make dinner. Some days, the writing dragged on. Some days I had to go to the library and do too many other things to write. Most days, I took lots of snack breaks, and over the course of five months, I definitely put on some weight (my boobs look amazing; recently, more than one person has asked me if I am pregnant: I am not). All of it was worth it. And now I get to share this book I almost did not write with the world, and I am so thrilled that I followed through on a wild idea.

Wishing you all the best in your almost-not endeavors. May you do something soon you kinda think you cannot do.