What a year this has been for me and my family. Packing and moving from NC all the way up to ND…talk about a culture (and weather!) shock. Christmas was quiet for us as it was just us (all the family’s back east). It felt strange. Even my 12-year old son commented on how it really didn’t feel like Christmas this year even though there was nearly two-feet of snow on the ground. We’re still settling in , and adjusting to our new life. These things just don’t happen over night.
Need to keep reminding myself of that.
I’m not one for resolutions. They never really worked for me. My only goals for the coming new year are:
- Write often (daily if possible)
- Read as many books as I can
- Seek out and connect with other creatives
That’s it. Simple is always better. Anything else would be gravy.
What about you? Have any specific (or general) goals for 2016?
Happy New Year!
*Here’s one of my favorite poems by Lord Alfred Tennyson called “The Death of the Old Year”:
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing:
Toll ye the church bell sad and slow,
And tread softly and speak low,
For the old year lies a-dying.
Old year you must not die;
You came to us so readily,
You lived with us so steadily,
Old year you shall not die.
He lieth still: he doth not move:
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend and a true truelove
And the New-year will take ’em away.
Old year you must not go;
So long you have been with us,
Such joy as you have seen with us,
Old year, you shall not go.
He froth’d his bumpers to the brim;
A jollier year we shall not see.
But tho’ his eyes are waxing dim,
And tho’ his foes speak ill of him,
He was a friend to me.
Old year, you shall not die;
We did so laugh and cry with you,
I’ve half a mind to die with you,
Old year, if you must die.
He was full of joke and jest,
But all his merry quips are o’er.
To see him die across the waste
His son and heir doth ride post-haste,
But he’ll be dead before.
Every one for his own.
The night is starry and cold, my friend,
And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend,
Comes up to take his own.
How hard he breathes! over the snow
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro:
The cricket chirps: the light burns low:
‘Tis nearly twelve o’clock.
Shake hands, before you die.
Old year, we’ll dearly rue for you:
What is it we can do for you?
Speak out before you die.
His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack! our friend is gone,
Close up his eyes: tie up his chin:
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,
And waiteth at the door.
There’s a new foot on the floor, my friend,
And a new face at the door, my friend,
A new face at the door.
It’s hard to believe that it is that time of the year again. Not sure about you, but I’ve yet to start my wrapping. Yikes.
Since the rest of this week will be on the crazy side, I just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
A Mother’s Love
There are times when only a Mother’s love
Can understand our tears,
Can soothe our disappoints
And calm all of our fears.
There are times when only a Mother’s love
Can share the joy we feel
When something we’ve dreamed about
Quite suddenly is real.
There are times when only a Mother’s faith
Can help us on life’s way
And inspire in us the confidence
We need from day to day.
For a Mother’s heart and a Mother’s faith
And a Mother’s steadfast love
Were fashioned by the Angels
And sent from God above.
As another year draws to a close, this is usually when I look back and see what I’ve accomplished as a writer, and then look ahead to a new year with goals and opportunities. This year I did get a short fiction (The Pocket Watch) published at a new ‘zine, and I had an opportunity to interview a prominent poet for Motionpoems, but because the film didn’t meet certain criteria (due to the film-maker’s not following them), it was not ran/presented. Yes, I was a bit disappointed; but I was grateful for the new experience and a chance to meet new people. Who knows, I may try my hand at another citizen journalist’s assignment at some point. To end the year, a short story (Jewel) and an essay (The Door) was published with Piker Press, and I submitted a (horror) short story to a (my first) contest. I should know the result for this by the end of January 2015.
2015 is looking more and more like a year full of life-changing events which I can’t elaborate on now. And for that reason alone, I’m not going to set too many goals for myself. What I will do is focus more on writing short fiction and essays, and hopefully read more books than I did in 2014.
What about you? Were you able to accomplish as much as you’d hoped for this year? What are your plans for the new year?
If you’re a writer, especially if you write fantasy of any kind, Christmas season is a wonderful time of the year.
1. Magic is in the air: there’s something about this particular holiday (out of all holidays) that no matter where you go, you can sense magic in everything. And for the creative souls, the magical feel tends to be extra strong.
2. You’re already a kid-at-heart: with holiday cartoons and movies and music galore, and don’t forget all the yummy sweets that accompany Christmas…how can you not feel like a kid again?
3. Christmas tends to re-awaken the muse: I can only attest this to be true for me. I love the idea of a man and his elves and reindeer residing in a magical place where we can’t see…as a child I envisioned this place as a beautiful haven in a world that was too focused on “reality.”
What about you? What does Christmas means to you as a writer?
You’re a writer, right?
I have a question for you.
Do your family and friends know you’re a writer yet they still either have no idea what to get you for Christmas (or birthdays) or they give you only non-writing gifts?
How hard is it really to buy for writers?
Okay, I’m done.