Send to KindleA Writer’s Letter to Santa
Dear Santa.
What a writer wants for Christmas isn’t quite the same as what a normal person needs. Since our minds and choice of profession are all twisty-bendy, we need more unusual presents. Stop me if I run on about how we are—but we tend to go on ranty-rants and if we lose focus for more than a millisecond, we’ll fly totally off the map.
First, we would like a comfy chair. I swear the quality of our writing depends upon our seat cushion and lower lumbar support. Really it does, Santa. You have no idea how many times characters we’ve written end up having back-aches and numb butt-cheeks because we get all mixed up in the head, or bottom—whatever.
This next present we want could be a little tricky. But, since you can visit every child in the world in twenty-four hours, we thought you could handle it. We’d like to be able to slip through the cracks in time. Writer’s honor, we won’t mess with the time stream or change history. There just aren’t enough hours in the day for us to do the whole job-thing and still make a decent word count. We’d gladly ditch the job and write if there wasn’t for needing to eat food, and to have a roof to put our chair under. Also please don’t have the time-slipping thing depend in any way upon reindeer poop. Because—eww.
Speaking of time, could we get one whole week on the beach, or in the mountains, or somewhere really nice? We’d like to be by ourselves with not a care in the world and our laptops. If you could slip a full-blown plot of awesome into our dreams the night before, that would also be way cool.
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