(first posted at agent Lucienne Diver’s blog)
It always happens this time of year–everyone one does it. The little trade-offs to incorporate the holidays into our busy schedules. The decisions: what doesn’t get done so we can have the fun?
I’m always determined to get those seasonal cards and letters sent. I want at least a small tree! And oh, please, some cookies! A party or two…some thoughtful shopping…the chance to gleefully examine my choices for a new holiday CD…
Did I mention cookies?
And, as it happens, to me, the very best holiday is one in which I have some silence time for writing.
Not that I want it all or anything.
Well, this year I have it ALL, all right.
Because this year, I’m also moving. Not actually on Christmas (my personal seasonal holiday), but all around it. (Because that’s so much better, right?)
So instead of writing cards, I’m packing boxes. But hey, I’m *thinking* about cards…about what I would have said…about all those people who don’t yet have my new address…oops…
Instead of decorating a tree–because, seriously, do I have the faintest idea where those decorations are, anyway?–the weekend before Christmas is scheduled for a big UHaul adventure–all the extra corral panels I can spare from the horse set-up, the agility gear (you really don’t want to know how much an A-Frame weighs), and the various bulky barrels, pallets, hoses, dogloos, etc, that we can fit into the UHaul without…well, without hurting ourselves. Because we are but middle-aged writer and geek people, y’know.
On Christmas, we plan to christen the new home with a dinner event–three of us, family, pretending that the smart way to learn new appliances is to use them on a holiday feast.
Er. Feastlet. Maybe.
And then commences the packing in earnest, and shortly thereafter, while everyone else rings in the new year, we begin the process of tearing down the barn. It looks like this one, but is a little shedrow of two stalls, one of which holds the hay. I had it built when we moved to this state last year (over the holidays, but that’s another story and I know, I know, you’d think we would have learned but it just happened, okay?) and now it will be unbuilt and moved, a week-long process.
Sometime during that process, Duncan the Lipizzan will be shifted from one property to the other, and I’ll be camping in the new place with dogs until the weekend, at which point some fine strong movers with their fine strong muscles will load all remaining items into their truck and deposit them at the new place and we will then stare numbly at the boxes, and maybe giggle a little hysterically.
Are you still waiting for the part about the muse? Well, here it is, and you may laugh: I’m also finishing a book. Demon Blade, the first of a new Nocturne series. It’s been an astonishingly fun book to write, fast and clean, with characters who know what (and who) they want. And yeah, I could be sensible and throw my hands in the air and say, “Well, I’ve got to PACK, don’t I?” Or I could maybe manage seasonal cards, or get some fancier wrapping on those gifts.
But. I am greedy. And my muse is greedy. And we want this book! So I don’t think of it as being Scroogish. I think of it as The Muse Wins.
But really, that’s the way it should be, don’t you think? My muse certainly does, and I have to admit…when push comes to shove, she’s the boss.
PS Happy Holidays, Lucienne. I, um, don’t think I’m getting cards into the mail…
PPS
Oh, and by the way…book on the shelves! But for some reason, I’m not sending out my usual postcards…
It’s Monday! And there’s the week, stretching out before.
