I’ve seen lots of FaceBook posts on the run up to Christmas about having a break from social media. I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing, although I can’t say I’ve given up that vice during the festive season.
For some of those writers, I’m sure they will be using that time wisely and relaxing with family and having a holiday of sorts. At Romaniac HQ we have a mixed bag: writers with deadlines working some of the Christmas period and others having a break.
But do we ever really manage to have a day off as a writer? For me, when I am at my most relaxed, it’s when my imagination kicks into play and before I know it I have an idea forming that wasn’t there before. I’ve created work by relaxing. And if it’s not that, it’s the next chapter, the next part of the story pushing for attention. My brain does not have an off switch (apart from when I’m sleeping. Thankfully, my brain let’s me sleep most of the time.)
I do have days off (Christmas being one of them), and like my children, my books call to me. They holler often and with annoying persistence until it reaches the point when they can’t be ignored. This is true of my kids and the books. And striking a balance is both exhausting and worthwhile. This Christmas I will be at the keyboard, but that’s in the knowledge I can relax more over the summer. The only problem with relaxing, is those pesky ideas that show up and want to be worked on. But, again, a bit like my children, I wouldn’t be without them because where would that leave me?
I hope whatever you are up to, you’ve had a wonderful Christmas and 2016! Romaniac HQ can’t wait to 2017!
With my daughter and son growing ever closer to independence, and with Christmas drawing near, I find I’m in a reflective mood.
This time last year, I was gearing up for wrist surgery, knowing I’d be spending several weeks in plaster, including the entire festive season. I was called into hospital at short notice, and didn’t have time to do much in the way of preparation for the Big Day, but I needn’t have worried. Gajitman and one of my lovely friends made a beautiful job of wrapping presents, my daughter baked an incredible gluten-free, vegetarian pie for my Christmas dinner, and with her dad, cooked the entire celebratory meal. My son made sure I was comfortable, and on the day, helped me unwrap my gorgeous gifts.
I remember our daughter’s first Christmas. She wasn’t old enough to furniture cruise, but had learned to stand and lean. My parents bought her a walker that year. With a crash course in how to use it, she was soon pushing it around the living room. A few years later, it was passed to her baby brother, who was more interested in the mechanics of it. However, not long after establishing what the wheels were for, he was zipping around, careering into sofas, and belly-laughing at his new found, if a little hazardous, sense of freedom.
I love my children for who they were and who they are now, and wouldn’t want it any other way, but seeing photos of when they were younger evokes strong emotions in me – immense delight and happiness, tinged with a touch of melancholy.
It is a little like being taken back by the ghost of Christmas Past …