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  • There is something about this Leap Day that has me more resolute than every New Year's Day for the past few years. Something about the day not coming around for another four years makes me want to do something notable, something I can't (or won't) do on just any normal day.

    For nearly ten years there's been a novel in my head, and even though I've written it time and time again in my thoughts, very little has made its way out of my brain, traveled out my fingers, and into my notebook. Everything about it is so familiar and yet so foreign, so uncertain. I've labored so much the past year to prepare myself to resume writing, but still I hesitate, buried beneath the fear of failure and the doubt concerning my abilities, all the while knowing that the only way to be a writer is to write.

    And so today, I've decided that it is finally time to ignore my fears and doubts and push beyond the complacency of mediocrity.

    I think it's the idea of leaping into something, of finally taking that plunge, that compels me to write.

    Maybe that's the true appeal of Leap Day.
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