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With the holidays, I’ve been a frittering. Frittering my time away by sleeping in, reading books, tweeting, eating, napping, and casting about online, sampling random articles. Not enough physical movement in my frittering. Although Hubby and I went grocery shopping today, which got us outside in the fresh air and moving around. A much needed excursion.

During the holidays, we had great conversations with family and a high school friend, who stopped by today. I discussed writing with my brother-in-law at some length yesterday. He wants to get started in non-work related writing, but never finds the time. Not unusual for someone at the beginning of becoming a writer. It’s too daunting to go from non-writer to writer in one fell swoop. My experience has taught me that starting small, committing to writing just a little each day, was the way to work into it. This is what I suggested to my brother-in-law. Going from not writing to writing a novel or memoir is like crossing a wide, deep crevasse without a bridge. A rare few will make it, but most of us don’t have the ability to leap that far.

I have a couple more days off before returning to work. I’d like to use the time to steer my frittering toward going through my past writing notes and regathering my thoughts along storylines. Frittering, though, has the curious ability to speed up time with its nonproductiveness.

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