Fun, Feelings, and F-Bombs

“That's the shit people actually want to read. Even when the truth includes SPANX wrestling, hospital bathroom farts, and admitting you're struggling in some spaces while crushing it in others.”

Some weeks hit different.

Work is crushing it. Book is bad ass. But life? Life is lifing hard in a few spaces right now.

Not complaining. Just being real.

Because here's the thing: you can be winning in some areas and struggling in others. And that's just called being human.

So let's talk about the wins this week. Because there are plenty.

All 19 chapters are done.

But the book needs to be BEEFIER to publish. I'm sitting at 44K words. Need 65-70K.

I could add filler. Pad scenes. Write words just for words' sake.

But that's not the book you deserve to read.

So I brainstormed. Thought about it. And it hit me:

What this bitch needs is more fun. More feelings. More F-bombs.

The three F's.

A few of my favorite baddie authors inspired me to go back and bring in the flare that keeps people reading. More humor. Correct tenses. A cadence I could read in an Audible recording (or someone else can read if they sound better—we'll cross that bridge when we get there).

I'm not rewriting. I'm enriching.

I went back to Chapter 1 this week.

Not because it was broken. But because I realized I was writing the safe version. The one I thought people wanted instead of the one I needed to write.

So I dropped into the bathroom scene harder. Made the SPANX shimmy funnier. Added the Grey's Anatomy dance-it-out moment after the C-Suite call. Threw in pop culture references that make you go "oh shit, same."

I added sensory details. The smell of Cynthia's essential oils. The soft lighting from the salt lamp. The sound of Lycra scraping against skin while I'm trying to yank up shapewear on a toilet.

I let the profanity fly. I broke the fourth wall. I talked directly to you.

And Chapter 1 went from 2,364 words to 2,790 words just by making it better. More vivid. More ME.

If I do that to all 19 chapters? I'll hit 65K naturally. Without padding. Without filler.

Just by writing the book I'm actually capable of instead of the safe version.

Here's what I'm learning:

Starting over isn't failure.

Going back to Chapter 1 when you're "supposed to be finishing" isn't procrastination.

Sometimes it's finally getting brave enough to write the book that scares you instead of the book that's safe.

I've spent five years on this manuscript. Five years telling myself I'd finish "someday."

This week I stopped writing someday's book. Started writing today's book.

The one that sounds like me. The one people won't be able to put down. The one that makes you laugh and cry and go "holy shit, she just said that out loud."

That book.

The honest part?

Life is a lot right now.

Work is great. Book is great. But other spaces? Heavy.

And I'm learning that it's okay to say that out loud. To admit that you can be crushing it in one area while struggling in another. To be honest about needing grace in certain seasons even when things look good from the outside.

Some weeks you're the badass woman turning down $180K job offers because you know your worth.

Some weeks you're the tired mom just trying to get through the day without breaking.

This week? Both.

And that's real life.

Not the highlight reel. Not the polished version. Just the messy, beautiful, exhausting truth of building something while also being human.

I think about what it means to write the real book.

Not the one that's safe. Not the one that checks all the boxes. Not the one that won't make anyone uncomfortable.

The one that's TRUE.

The three F's aren't just about making the book longer. They're about making it MINE.

Fun - because life is too short to write boring shit.

Feelings - because vulnerability is what connects us.

F-bombs - because sometimes "heck" just doesn't capture the moment.

And when you combine all three? You get something people can't put down. Something that feels real instead of performed. Something that sounds like an actual human wrote it instead of an AI trying to sound inspirational.

Next week I'm doing Chapters 2-5. Same treatment. Same energy.

By the time I'm done, every single chapter will have the same voice. The same punch. The same "I can't stop reading this" quality.

No more patchwork manuscript where some chapters pop and some fall flat.

The whole thing is going to slap.

Manuscript Update: 19 of 19 chapters complete, 44,296 words (Chapter 1 now 2,790)

The book is 65% written. I'm in the enrichment phase.

And the biggest lesson I keep learning - in the manuscript, in my business, in my life - is this:

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop writing the safe version. Stop performing. Stop pretending you have it all together.

And just tell the truth.

Even when the truth includes SPANX wrestling, hospital bathroom farts, and admitting you're struggling in some spaces while crushing it in others.

That's the shit people actually want to read.

Still becoming.

Be you.