by Lake

How to Achieve Your Goals: What Nobody Tells You

Ask random people how to achieve your goals, and they’ll give you typical answers. Most will tell you to set SMART Goals: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-Bound. Others will tell you to break your big goals into tiny ones and to develop systems that keep you moving forward. All of that is good advice.

Others will tell you to “find your why” because it’s what you’ll cling to when things get hard. That has a lot of truth to it because it’s closer to what you really need to know.

But here’s the thing nobody tells you: the most important part of achieving your goals is Endurance. Because no matter how well you plan, no matter how strong your “why,” the path to your goals will drag you through pain.

Pain as the Engine of Every Story

Think about the characters in your favorite novels, movies, or even video games. Their stories don’t begin with comfort. They begin when pain arrives: a loss, a betrayal, some kind of wound. That’s the inciting incident that forces them to change.

Marketing works the same way: every product exists because it solves somebody’s pain.

And so does self-development. Your goals won’t materialize unless you’re willing to go through some hurt. The bigger the goal, the bigger the pain.

Giving up your weekends because you need to upskill? That’s pain. Skipping happy hour because you need those extra hours at your desk? That’s pain. Getting up at five a.m. to work out. That’s definitely pain.

But there’s an even deeper kind of hurt. The suffering that comes from sticking with it when every part of you wants to quit. The misery of staying focused when the world is whispering, Don’t bother, it’s too big of a dream, it will never happen. That’s the kind of pain that reshapes you forever. Grinding in the lonely darkness isn’t just endurance. It’s a transformation.

Success Isn’t Something You Chase

Most people treat success like a finish line they’re racing toward. But the truth is, success isn’t something you chase — it’s something you become.

And you become it by going through pain.

  • Writers face rejection, scrapped drafts, and characters that refuse to come alive.
  • Marketers face failed campaigns, dismal metrics, and the sting of public misfires.
  • Achievers in any field face sleepless nights, grueling effort, and the ache of pushing beyond their limits.

That’s the stuff that molds you.

Endurance is the Real Secret

The difference between those who reach their goals and those who don’t isn’t intelligence, or resources, or even talent. Sure, it’s still smart to set some SMART goals and break the big goals into tiny steps. But the real key is endurance. It’s a willingness to go through what is necessary, no matter what.

Most people avoid pain at all costs. The goal digger seeks it out and barrels through it head because he knows that transformation is on the other side of torment.

by Lake

How Writing Fiction Made Me a Better Brainstormer

When most people think of a fiction writer, they picture a solitary creature sitting at a desk at night, staring at a blank page and waiting for inspiration. That’s a ridiculous image. Writers don’t wait for inspiration. If they did, they’d never get anything written. Instead, they develop the creativity muscle.

Once that muscle has some strength, it gives the writer the ability to come up with story ideas, fill them with imaginary people, create powerful scenes, draft clever dialogue, and find the perfect cadence that makes a critical sentence sing and do all of this on demand.

Developing this creative power made me a better writer. It also made me a better marketer. Here’s why:  

Fiction Trains You to Ask “What If?”

Every story starts with some kind of question: What if a boy discovers he’s a wizard? What if a spaceship lands in your backyard? What if the clown in your small town isn’t friendly at all?

Fiction writers live in that realm of possibility. We’re trained to ask not just one “what if,” but a dozen, and then another dozen after that. It’s not about finding the right idea on the first try. It’s about chasing the unexpected and finding the answers that other’s don’t.

That same approach fuels marketing brainstorms. When you’ve trained yourself to push past the obvious, you find campaigns and content ideas that actually cut through the noise.

Characters = Customer Personas

In fiction, every character has a deeply seated, inner motivation, a wound, and a goal. You can’t tell a compelling story without knowing what your protagonist wants most (and what stands in their way) and what they really need.

Sound familiar? It should. In marketing, customers are our protagonists. Their pain points, desires, and obstacles are what drive the entire narrative of a brand.

Brainstorming with Data vs. Imagination

Marketers brainstorm with dashboards open. They look at click-through rates, engagement curves, demographic breakdowns, and customer feedback. Every idea is tested against data: Will this resonate with the 25–34 demo? Does it align with what performed last quarter?

Fiction writers don’t have dashboards. Our data is internal: memory, emotion, scars. We measure ideas against truth: Would this character really do this? Does this moment feel earned?

Both approaches matter. In marketing, data keeps us grounded. In fiction, imagination keeps us brave. And in both, the best brainstorms happen when you balance evidence with instinct.

Plot Twists Keep You Flexible

Sometimes, your story doesn’t go where you thought it would. A character rebels. A subplot steals the spotlight. The story takes a turn you didn’t see coming and you have to toss your outline and adapt.

Marketing is the same. Campaigns don’t always perform the way we expect. Competitors take defensive action. The market shifts. The environment changes.

Fiction taught me not to fear the inevitable pivot but to embrace it. A twist can ruin you, or it can make the story unforgettable.

The Brainstormer’s Creed

When I sit down to brainstorm now, whether it’s for a new campaign, a blog post, or an organic strategy, I bring the tools of the novelist with me. You can, too, because here they are:

  • Ask “what if?” until you break through the obvious.
  • Treat customers like characters with desires, pain, hidden motivations, wants, needs, and backstories.
  • Be flexible — the best ideas are often hiding in the detours.

Final Thought

Fiction made me a better brainstormer because it taught me that creativity isn’t a lightning strike. It’s a discipline. An ongoing practice. A willingness to wander into the unknown and trust that somewhere in the dark, you’ll stumble onto the spark that lights the way.

And that’s true whether you’re writing novels or writing marketing plans.🔑

by Lake

Clown in a Cornfield: Generational Friction in Horror’s Mask

Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield has been hailed as a slasher novel for young adults. But it’s far more than that because the story is rooted in mourning.

Its young characters are in mourning. Quinn, our new-to-town protagonist, is grieving her mother, along with the home and life she left behind. Colt, another pivotal character, is still reeling from the death of his sister. Rustin, a heroic ally character, is grieving, too, although he hides his sorrow so that it isn’t fully revealed until the story’s resolution. Their pain shapes them, isolates them, and ultimately draws them into the bloody conflict that descends on the town of Kettle Springs.

The adults in Kettle Springs are grieving too. Their once-thriving town has crumbled. The corn syrup factory that anchored the economy is gone. Traditions feel hollow, values feel disregarded, and in their eyes, the younger generation is to blame. They look at teenagers glued to phones, recording reckless stunts for their stupid YouTube channel, laughing at the world they’re trying to hold together and they see nothing but disrespect.

As I’ve said before, good stories and good marketing always begin in pain. In Clown in a Cornfield, Cesare brilliantly ensures that generational pain collides. The grief of the young and the grief of the old meet and ignite a bloody massacre.

This is why the book resonates so strongly. It isn’t just about a masked killer clown. It’s about what happens when two generations, equally wounded, cannot bridge the divide between them.

For younger readers especially, that conflict cuts close. Many teens and twenty-somethings feel they’ve inherited a broken system: climate crisis, student debt, jobs that barely cover rent. They see adults telling them to “work harder,” while opportunities vanish before they can grab them. That tension fuels the appeal of the novel. It’s cathartic to watch a story where the friction between generations finally erupts.

And what does that say about us, as a society? Maybe that we’re not as different from Kettle Springs as we’d like to believe. Our inability to bridge generational divides leaves both sides trapped in grief, anger, and suspicion. The younger feel misunderstood. The older feel discarded. And instead of healing, we circle one another with blame. Horror resonates here because it shows us the cost of refusing to find common ground.

It’s no wonder Clown in a Cornfield was a breakout success. It won the Bram Stoker Award for Best YA Horror Novel and kicked off a trilogy (Clown in a Cornfield II: Frendo Lives and Clown in a Cornfield III: The Church of Frendo). In 2025, the book leapt to the big screen under director Eli Craig (Tucker & Dale vs Evil). The movie grossed more than $7 million worldwide before moving to streaming platforms, proving that Frendo’s mask has power beyond the page.

Clown in a Cornfield may look like a simple slasher story, but its true terror is a mirror: one generation mourning the past, another mourning the future, neither willing to meet in the middle. That signals dark times ahead, doesn’t it?

Learn more about Clown in a Cornfield on GoodReads here.