And so it begins

It's that time again. Time to put aside laundry folding, litter cleaning, and computer solitaire. It's time to start a new book.

Break out the pinot and the Xanax, keep the TV tuned to Nick at Night, kiss the husband and dog goodbye. It's time to start a new book.

Call the friends and bid them adieu, write the relatives to say you're gone, tell the girls at yoga you'll see them next spring. It's time to start a new book.

Close the lid on the piano, stash all the books on the bedside table, cancel the Sunday New York Times. It's time to start a new book.

Vacuum the popcorn kennels from the keyboard, turn the office chair toward the wall, take a good long look at your face in the blank gray screen and switch on the computer. It's time to start a new book.

Take a deep breath and then one more, listen hard to the whispers in your head, close your eyes and bring the faces into focus. It's time to start a new book.

Leave behind your own warm world. It's time to enter someone else's now. It's time to start a new book.