Miss Crankypants is ready to scream. She only has 5 days until the BIG DAY and here she is, scoring a big fat zero on everything Christmas. Number of Christmas cards to be mailed: 876. ACTUAL Christmas cards mailed: nada. Gifts purchased? The cats have visited the mall more times than she has. Gifts wrapped? You must be joking.
Miss Cranky wants to blame the usual suspects (hint: rhymes with rat). But if she’s honest, she’ll confess that her writing deadlines are creating the kind of chaos that makes an author want to take up knitting or psychiatric nursing instead. So in the Spirit of the Writing Life, Miss CP offers the Twelve Ways of Writer-mas!
You wake up on December 24th and dash to your office, dusting off your last coffee mug with your publisher’s logo–the one that’s only slightly chipped, to re-gift to your best friend.
You hand out pencils stamped with your book’s title to your child’s third grade class. What else can you do with 10,000 pencils?
You have your novel bronzed and tell your dad he can display it over the fireplace.
You wrap gifts in old manuscripts blazing with lots of colorful red ink.
You give that “One Writer” in your critique group socks filled with itching powder.
- You go to the thrift store, find an old bowling trophy and hang a sign on it that reads, “Writer of the Year.” You display it prominently on your desk, in case the press shows up and begs for an interview. Alternately, you can now say honestly that you are an award-winning writer.
- You throw away the itchy socks–fair is fair–and replace gift to that One Writer with a large roll of duct tape.
- You contemplate sending a fruit basket to the editor you hope will say yes.
- You hope the fruit rots because the editor is on vacation until March.
- You will never wear stupid tee shirts that proclaim that you’re a real writer.
- You’re thinking of taking up smoking and drinking again–it makes you look cool and eases the pain of rejection.
- You are sure your great literary idea–a “fifty shades” version of Harry Potter–will be the next big thing.
- You plan to attend Christmas parties dressed for work, that is, in your pjs. And you hope people don’t make fun of your bunny slippers.