Today on the blog we have Laurie Boris with a heartwarming story about how Mrs. Claus got her groove back. I'm sitting here after just watching the new Star Wars, which was amazing, and I'm so excited about the movie that I can't think of anything that I want to change in the indie world, except maybe that I could write a story like Star Wars. Movies do that to me, especially action movies. I have to limit the number I watch or I would spend too much of my life too excited. I actually didn't sleep for two weeks after seeing The Phantom Menace (I know, I know, not as good as the originals) because I was so busy spinning new plot lines that could arise from it.
But given that it is Christmas, and the snow is amazing, I am not feeling the writing drive quite as much as I usually do, although I did write my thousand word quota for the pen name today (normally it would be two thousand words, but since most people are off enjoying the season, I decided I should too). For fun, I looked up getting your creative writing groove back and of course found this great advice from Chuck Wendig. Importantly he says (see number 11) that getting out of the house is good for you, and that vacations might be okay (see number 24). So I am going with that and am going to advocate that for 2016, Christmas become an official time for festing, getting out of the house, skiing and watching Star Wars for writers.
Laurie Boris
Laurie Boris is a freelance writer and copyeditor. At one time, she was a magician’s assistant, although she was very bad at it. She has been writing fiction for over twenty-five years and is the award-winning author of six novels including her latest, A Sudden Gust of Gravity. When not hanging out with the universe of imaginary people in her head, she enjoys baseball, reading, and avoiding housework.
Website: http://laurieboris.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/laurie.boris.author
How Mrs. Claus Got Her Groove Back
Emma Claus looked from the crackling log in the fireplace to the cheerful cards on the mantel and the string of twinkling lights she’d woven among them. But the yuletide trappings still left her cold. She’d tried everything to awaken her Christmas spirit: hitting the Black Friday sales online, reading letters from the children, baking tray after tray of cookies. Even the sappiest of holiday movies failed to lift her mood. Even the ones with Colin Firth.
Just to make sure she’d given Hollywood a fair shake, she clicked the remote to the Hallmark Channel, which was showing the same snowed-in romance brewing at the same over-decorated country inn. Emma merely clucked her tongue. “Fools,” she said. “Do those innkeepers ever sleep? All that work! Cooking and cleaning! Sweeping up pine needles, drizzling everything with tinsel just so, tending the fires in every room and dusting twice a day from all the ash…what kind of life is that?”