Since my triumphant slaying of the Fifty Thousand Word Dragon in November I have been thinking about what I could write for the Much Malarkey Manor Christmas story this year. I mean, it has become a bit of a tradition, hasn't it? Me regaling you all with some far-fetched silliness, generally involving chickens and other some such characters with double entrendre names in the style of pantomime. I've done Scrooge and the Twelve Days of Christmas, and the Night Before Christmas (I think - though that might have been a story I wrote just for Andy as a cheap-skate present) and I was thinking of doing something traditionally pantomimey until Tango Pete arrived and asked if he could be the Pantomime Dame and I said,'Which pantomime?' and he said 'Aladdin' and I said,'Oh, you want to be Widow Twanky?' and he said he was thinking more along the lines of Widow Twanky Tights as he had a pair of new spangly fishnets that needed an airing and I thought, well there goes all sense of decency and here comes more trouble than I can possibly handle and I said, 'No! Absolutely not! No pantomime.' And he went off in a bit of a huff.
So, my emergency Pantomime back up plan is up the chute. I then thought I could just let the whole idea slide. It's not like I need something to keep me occupied in the evenings, what with the embroidery goings-on and 'Night Owls' waiting for a redraft as soon as Andy can amalgamate it onto a memory stick for me so I can print it off and set about it with my pink pen. (You have no idea of the complexity of getting the darn thing written and put on our web-site, especially since Weebly tiddled around with their app and I stupidly updated my i-pad. Sheesh, but I hate technology sometimes. Pass me a slate and stick of chalk, that's what I say.)
But then I thought, no. Don't be lazy now. You are a writer and writers write regardless of apparent difficulties involving cockerels in spangly tights with cross-dressing urges. Okay, so you may not be the ultimate writer i.e one who gets paid for writing so doesn't have to leave the house to do other, more stressy work because the stupid building society won't just overlook what is left of our mortgage, but you ARE a writer. So write a flippin' Christmas story for your lovely house guests. They deserve it, after all, with everything they have to tolerate.
So, starting some day soon, might be tomorrow, might not, depending on the striking of the moose, I mean 'muse', a Christmas Story will be heading your way. You lucky, lucky people!
And its theme? Well, Christmas of course. Wholly inappropriate to write about Easter bunnies at this time of the year, isn't it? Or zombies.
And what will be in the story? I shall tell you, just in case you ignored the title of this blog or have forgotten it already. There shall be a Nut, a Cracker and a Sweet.
And a chicken. Or eight.