If you write fiction, a challenge your challenge is to give each character its own personality. This is particularly difficult to do on paper, and it takes a careful eye to make men and women believable.

This evening, we received news that a friend’s son had been taken to the hospital because of the injury. My daughter, an extrovert, asked questions about whether the little boy was going to be okay, but that was about it. My son, who is four and has a sensitive heart, asked to pray for his friend, said a beautiful prayer, and then as we were getting pajamas on, he sat down on the stairs and cried for his hurt friend. The events did not seem to affect my daughter.

Two lessons you could apply to your own writing journey: First, pay attention to the small stuff in regard to a personality. My daughter read a book about a cat who died; immediately after hearing about her friend’s injury, she found her pet cat and stroked it. My son, on the other hand, showed his grief.

Not everyone will respond to a situation by crying or getting angry. Instead, the window into a person’s soul may come in all forms, shapes and sizes.

Sometimes you hear about new technology, like Amazon’s Kindle or Apple’s iPad that seem poised to take over the beloved paperback. Pundits cry out “The book is dead!” Yes, there’s all sorts of new and interesting ways to tell stories, like what I wrote about a few days ago in “The Future of Storytelling.”

Then you read about Ebay’s literary oddities and you instinctively know that we’ll be able to feel the paper and smell the glue of the binding for quite some time. Why? If fans continue to buy the Russian Ernest Hemingway lapel pin, the Albert Camus earrings or the Sherlock Holmes fingerpuppet, it tells me that not all fans will put up with the fancy, new and shiny way to read. Instead, they just want to see the ink on the page.

I love Tolstoy. Partly because my son was born in the same town as the venerable Russian author. Partly because his stories are just so darn good. (Who doesn’t love, “How Much Land Does a Man Need?”)

In Thinking for a Change, John Maxwell highlighted one of Tolstoy’s thoughts as a pullquote. I thought it was worth repeating here:

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”

It reminds me of a time in college. Pete Sampras has won the U.S. Open for the zillionth time — by the time he was 21 years old. My college roommate and I had telepathic thoughts: We’re 21 years old. What have we accomplished? Nothing!

I’ve thought back at that moment in my life often, especially during those times when I haven’t accomplished anything BIG. As I lurk closer to forty years old, the most important lesson I’m trying to learn is what Tolstoy had already figured out. You can’t change anything until you’re willing to change yourself.

Pay attention to the little things like your values, relationships, and God. When you’re on your solid foundation, you’ll be able to grow — as a writer, as a spouse, as a parent. As a human being.

According to the Huffington Post (and other, more scientific sources), sleep can be the best companion a writer can ask for. Instead of editorializing the editorial, why don’t I just send you over to the article. Besides…it’s late and I’m tired.