When I first studied Shakespeare, I learned the literary concept of a “fatal flaw” — the idea that a heroic character has a single personality trait that brings about his or her downfall.

I think my fatal flaw is lack of self-discipline. I will never be great unless I develop self-discipline. I shall spend my life as the slightly overweight woman who lives in the somewhat messy house and writes somewhat interesting journal entries but never publishes a finished story. I wallow around in the land of mediocrity living in the pain of my unrealized talent and potential.

And I’m 37-years-old this year. I’m running out of time.

But my life isn’t over yet, is it? We’re not at the end of my play yet. There’s still hope that I shall overcome my fatal flaw.