Writing a blog means writing a blog even when you don’t feel like it. Scratching your head, coming up with topics that at least one person finds interesting or useful.
It means putting ideas down on the screen with an ice storm pelting your windows and the Christmas tree desiccating in the corner.
I was going to write about goals achieved: Five bylines for the local newspaper, a book signing for charity, my first author panel at a big city bookstore.
Then I was going to choose favorite posts of the year, but the ones I think were my best aren’t the ones most people cared about.
So instead, I’m going to talk about what I got for Christmas. And by “got,” I mean unwrapped – not family love, peace, and harmony, blah blah blah, though fortunately I received that as well.
Christmas 2015 was the Christmas of Sloth.
By request, I received 4 or 5 bubble bath/body scrub products.
I received two magazine subscription renewals: Entertainment Weekly (lots of book reviews), Writers Digest. And a few others including Flow, which is a magazine for paper lovers, weird, I know. And Poets & Writers.
Books! I got books! I’m almost done reading Descent by Tim Johnston which was a request of mine. I have The Virgins by Pamela Erens waiting in the wings. This novel was a recommendation from a writing teacher.
Using some gift certificates, I’ve ordered three other books that should arrive by tomorrow: Eats, Shoots and Leaves (yes, it’s a book about punctuation), the latest Stephen Hawking, and a book on the law of attraction.
Candy, candles, football tickets, a 2016 Sister calendar, new bras in my stocking from Victoria Secret (an annual tradition). So many other cool things but for now, I’m focused on the relaxation of it all. Ooooh, a pedicure gift certificate.
Almost forgot. My sister just sent me a new karaoke machine. I have one in the kitchen but the microphone is going. This new microphone is pristine, and now, if I feel like it, I can have a friend join me for a duet.
Basically, I’ll be laying in a hot tub of soapy water reading for the next six weeks. When (if) I emerge, I will put on new stretchy clothes, and sing to my heart’s content.
I’m filling up the well, reading Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing, reading great novels, and allowing myself to write what I want. Notebook is next to the bed for ideas visiting at night, laptop is charged.
Soon enough, my sloth stage will pass. A new correspondence course on Story as a State of Mind awaits when I’m ready. And my novel. My novel is calling.
What were your favorite gifts of 2015?