When people have learned that I’ve been trying to do something new every day in 2023, many have replied: “Nancy, you should write a book!” That’s not going to happen, so this essay will have to suffice. (And I’m only writing it to get credit for Novel Thing #362.) 

My adventure started as a lark of a New Year’s resolution. My son and I were brainstorming, and he suggested doing something new every week.  I upped the ante: Why not every day? He insisted it couldn’t be done.

For the past 362 days – at the time of writing – I’ve been proving him wrong. 

I’ve swum across the New Hampshire-Maine border, visited the “Grand Canyon of the East” (Letchworth State Park in upstate New York), hiked into the other Grand Canyon, and finally gotten around to exploring such local landmarks as the Portland Observatory, the Umbrella Cover Museum and the International Cryptozoology Museum.

I’ve kicked a hacky sack, long-snapped a football, shot a left-handed layup, tried Tai Chi, swung at a squash ball and attempted (unsuccessfully) to ride a hoverboard designed for a 10-year-old.

I’ve walked backwards all day, swum by moonlight with a band of “mermaids” at Willard Beach, attended a medieval Renaissance faire, dipped truffles and stood by the side of a road while wearing a sandwich board.

I’ve leg wrestled, trash-talked Packers fans while out walking my dog and ridden my bike to the airport. I’ve removed a fuse from a minivan, hitched a ride on a ranger’s cart at Lily Bay State Park and driven a Gator. I’ve strummed a mandolin and a ukulele, played a steel drum, and sung “Sweet Caroline” with an usher at a Sea Dogs game. 

It hasn’t always been easy. On dark winter evenings, desperation sometimes found me crafting a chicken out of a napkin, watching YouTube to learn a few phrases in Lingala or sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed. I split an apple in half with my bare hands, balanced a spoon on my nose, edited a Wikipedia entry, learned to tie a necktie and built a head harp. 

Not one to be introspective, I’ve resisted responding to questions about whether the experiment has been worth it, or what I learned, or how I grew.

But here, in the spirit of this Year of Novelty, I’ll give it a shot.

Three hundred and sixty-five is a big number, so I’ve been ever on the lookout for new opportunities to stop and explore on drives across New England, or even on strolls through my own neighborhood. I’ve discovered an ice house museum, the world’s most beautiful laundromat, and a shell museum housed in a covered bridge at a mini golf course (only in Maine!). Thanks to the persistent pursuit of novelty, life has been a little more exciting this year. I’m hoping that my eyes will continue to stay open well beyond 2023. 

I was surprised to learn that I have more time available than I thought. Even on days when I didn’t seem to have a spare second, I’d manage to carve out a few moments to do a Novel Thing.

But as the year wore on, a nagging feeling set in. Although I was expanding my horizons, I sometimes found myself wondering whether I would end up frittering away my life folding napkin chickens. I began to look forward to the day when I could put that “bonus time” to better use – to dive into longer-term pursuits, maybe even a few that contribute to society. Perhaps that will inspire my resolution for 2024.   

So far, though, all I’ve got on my list of resolutions for the coming year is to fulfill my lifelong dream of driving a Zamboni.

Please get in touch if you know anyone who can help make that happen. 

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