 For Authors: November 30, 2010 Issue [#4103] |
  For Authors
This week: Attack of the Warm Fuzzies! Edited by: Fyn  
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Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time. ~Laura Ingalls Wilder
It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air. ~W.T. Ellis
The perfect Christmas tree? All Christmas trees are perfect! ~ Charles N. Barnard
Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. ~Mary Ellen Chase
Christmas - that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance--a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.~ Augusta E. Rundel
Christmas ... is not an eternal event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart.~Freya Stark
The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. ~ Burton Hillis
The merry family gatherings-- The old, the very young; The strangely lovely way they Harmonize in carols sung. For Christmas is tradition time-- Traditions that recall The precious memories down the years, The sameness of them all. ~Helen Lowrie Marshall
Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and everyone round the Christmas fire, and make the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete. - Charles Dickens
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,
And etched on vacant places Are half-forgotten faces
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know. ~Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Curled up in my favorite chair, laptop propped upon my knees, I contemplate the decorated living room around me. Far earlier than is normal for us due to a Christmas party next Saturday, the tree is up, the winter village is peopled, there are presents wrapped and waiting beautifully under the tree. Hubby even has the lights up outside--first on the street for a change instead of the last!
The fire of apple-wood logs adds distinctive accents to the smell of balsam and cinnamon from pine boughs and candles. The moment is serene and calm, a far cry from earlier.
When we first lit the tree for that 'oooo' moment, the star stayed dark. It had worked perfectly earlier in the kitchen when we tested it, but now, atop the tree--nothing.
Hubby's reaction was, 'I'll fix it.' Mine was,"The star didn't light, and the symbolism behind that thought had tears threatening.
He tried. One of the plastic points shattered as he tried to get the star open. "I'll glue it, hon, don't worry." He tested every light, the wires, the fuse, the plug. Hopeless.
I retreated back to the sofa and contemplated the 'Mid tree decorating chaos.' I thought of, and then discarded several other possibilities. Then I noticed a large, velvet bow tossed on the back of the couch. It had long, thin, velvet streamers that someone had carefully rolled. (I know neither of us did it!) Unpinned, the streamers fell to the floor with a gentle spiraled curl. Hmmm. Holding the bow at arm's length, I considered. Yup, the bow was the right size, it might work. I climbed up the step ladder and affixed it to the top of the tree. Back down on the floor I artfully arranged the streamers.
From the kitchen, I hear a string of somewhat less than 'gentlemanly' words. My tree-topper idea still needed some--oh wait! Ideas were now flowing. I grabbed some baby's breath, some silvered, leafy florist picks and a few long, silvery spiraled whatchamacallits and stuck them in surrounding the sides and top of the bow. Yup!
Back on the floor, I checked my creation from all angles. Then I went to the kitchen to rescue my hubby from the now mangled star parts covering the counter. I found him putting a bandage on a bleeding finger.
"Darned star. It bit me," he said holding up the injured digit that was rapidly bleeding through the bandage.
"Must have been a rogue star," I said. "Come check this out. It might work..."
"It's different. I like it. Good job, hon. It's like it's a Christmas present."
"No, this is Christmas present."
"Oh, good one. Can I go back to cleaning my workshop now?" he asked as he beat a hasty retreat towards the door.
That was several hours ago. Now I'm happily indulging myself with one of my favorite holiday pastimes. As with most people, I expect, many of our treasured ornaments were either bought because they reminded us of a special memory or were given to us by friends or family. Over the course of the next month, I will work my way from the bottom of the tree upwards,remembering and thinking of the person/memory/event behind each specific ornament. Some have entire stories behind them, others are on the 'specific order of the ornaments' list.
The felt and Styrofoam drummer boy his mom made him fifty years ago is always the First ornament. The poor thing is now more glue than anything else, the sparking glitter has long fallen off and the Styrofoam is slowly disintegrating. But it is glued with pure family love and tradition.
There are other equally faded ornaments from our grandparents, and ones special to our own parents over the years. Memories flow as well as a few tears. We both miss our folks all year long, but at Christmas time, those memories seem to gain an extra poignancy. Yet they are happy moments we remember, full of joy and we are still warmed by them.
Twenty-five years ago, when we celebrated our first and (back then, only) Christmas together, I gave him a blown glass sailboat. At the time, it was the closest thing I could find to represent the USS Constitution which was (and is) a passion of his. That year, it was the 2nd ornament on the tree. Fast forward twenty years and imagine my surprise when I found out that he not only still had it, but that during all the intervening years, it was still the second ornament that went on the tree!
Each ornament is packed with memories and people, glued with tradition and tied together with red silken ribbons of love. Stories we've all shared time and time again. Some seem to change with each telling, but many almost are recited, word for word, and it becomes the fabric of our oral history. Even the grand kids can tell some of the 'remember when' stories as if, they actually experienced them, for, in a sense, they feel as if they 'remember' them as well.
Use the feelings, the memories, the histories when you are writing. Share these gifts with your characters, adding depth and dimension to them.
Or write out the memories of when Uncle Louie knocked the tree through the front window or Santa fell through the roof. That story your Great-aunt Laura (or mom, grandmother, sister, daughter) tells of the first time she cooked the frozen turkey and didn't know that the giblets were tucked inside.
Remember that toy you wanted and begged and pleaded for? Yup, the one you actually kept your room clean for. The one that somehow, with extremely heroic restraint kept you from pummeling your brother for a week or three-- (or at least either managing to not get caught or bribing the sibling not to tell.) Remember how long you actually played with it? Was the thrill gone in fifteen minutes? Is it one that you passed down to a grandson last year and spent hours on the floor building Lincoln Log houses, Tinkertoy creations or Erector Set dinosaurs?
Ah the stories. The ornaments, the picking of the tree, (Ever gotten to the lot, liked the first one you saw, but then went and looked at each and every other one only to end up getting that very first tree?) the varied scents of the season from the smell of fresh cut pine boughs to --insert appropriate relative's name here-- cookies or fresh pies? Does your family put an orange and a walnut in the toe of your stocking; and do you know why this was done? And while presents are far from the most important element of the season, do you remember that special one tucked innocently on a branch that was there for a week and you never noticed it until it was pointed out to you?
Ever switched tags to foil a 'present peeper?" Ever gotten a present inside a box, inside a box, inside a box? Ever bought (or were given) the last tree on the lot--the one too crooked or sparse for anyone else-- and brought it home trilled to decorate it with one string of lights and paper chains and it was still 'the prettiest tree' you ever had? Do you say that phrase every year with a smile? Ever gone on a sleigh ride to Grandmothers house? And whose house did your or everyone trek to on Christmas? Do you remember when time passed and then it was your home everyone descended upon? Was there what my dad used to call the 'engineer's dilemma' hour or two spent deciphering tab A into slot B while assembling a 'some assembly required' toy without the directions?
Memory Chests overflowing with richness: treasures far too precious to be lost...spend them wisely, my writer friends and do with them what we do....write! |
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LJPC - the tortoise  writes:Hi Fyn! What a fun NL! Well, fun to read; I'm sure it wasn't as pleasant to live through. You get this month's Super-Multi-Taskers prize!  Oh, and don't worry about the accidentally-closed-the-window thing. We've all done it.  -- Laura
LOL--yuppers!
Tornado Dodger  says: Thank you for a great newsletter on being a "creative contortionist". What I enjoy most about your NL's is they are so realistic. They help us all to realize we're not the only ones that run out of time on deadlines.  Also, thank you so much for highlighting "Youth Suicide Prevention Initiative" . It's a cause I feel very strongly about and the attention is much appreciated. 
First and most important: Excellent cause, so very important and one that needs to stay at the forefront of the public's consciousness!
Secondly, I appreciate your enjoying the 'realistic' flavor of my newsletters. I think it has become my mission to see that writers get the message that our every days lives offer so much to draw from when we are writing, that description adds a visual depth and that, as writers, everyone has something to say!
DRSmith  adds:<<Flexible. Pretzel time! Now I know why we creative writers are so good at what we do. We can multi-task, write, babysit, and edit all at the same time.>> Terrific newsie as always given the above caught my eye since I tend to be the opposite. Don't know why, but I tend to be a slow starter stymied by a wall of blankness until that special, spontaneous moment within the subconscious that says: "Write it, bozo!" Ah, how I envy those of you so described by Fyn as the prolific ones. Be that as it may, I must wait until the next proverbial kick in the britches jump starts the muse... though there's a heck of can't-miss target for anyone so inclined.
Targeting...targeting......oh wait....the fear of a proverbial planted foot has kick started you, for since you wrote this, I know you've been writing!
Zeke said: Been there, done that. When I was still working as a business executive, I often found that the silly waste of time earning a living was interferin' with my writing.~Zeke
Yeah, there is that! LOL
A.T.B: It'sWhatWeDo reminds: I once lost 28 pages to a file corruption while trying to bump the new vignette over to my external drive. After a brief fit upon an oak tree with a plastic bat, I sat and bullet-pointed every poignant aspect that my poor 28-page-weary and traumatized brain could muster up at short notice. The end product was technically better, as I typically edit with a machete, and the rudimentary outline did indeed help the rewrite flow without the urge to hack it to bits in the resurrection process. I also learned early on - having ancient software installed on a junk computer - that autosaves and file-recoveries just can't ensure a 100% safety rating, so - as a word to the wise - I fell into the habit of copying and pasting the work-body as a whole into a completely new document file with each new paragraph's completion. Wonderful newsletter, Fyn. Gold star recovery, indeed.
Ah, thanking you for the gold star! But you clearly illustrate the necessity of frequent saves!!! A few seconds spent saving mid-write, can save one the frustration of re-creation later! |
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