My Christmas Gift to You

The other day, I was thinking about an interview of Stephen King I saw many years ago. He said something along the lines of “I used to tell interviewers I write every day except Christmas and my birthday. But that was a lie. I write on Christmas and my birthday, too.”

I can’t say I write as regularly as he does. He’s probably stopped writing more novels than I’ve even started to write. But I can say that I think about writing every day, including Christmas and my birthday. I turn scenes over in my mind, imagine characters in new situations, mull over what people on the train do when they’re not commuting, and create new people out of nothing or out of a hodgepodge of folks I’ve met.

That’s not writing per se, but it’s part of the process we all use as writers. Whether you’re a pantser or a plotter doesn’t matter; we all must allow our minds to play.

As Christmas arrives, I’d like to give you all a gift. It’s not big, so feel free to pop it in a pocket and use at your leisure. I didn’t wrap it; the gift is the permission to imagine at any time of day. Whether you’re at work or driving or taking a shower or even asleep, you have permission to imagine. Don’t feel guilty that you didn’t give me anything, because you’re wrong about that. You’ve given me increased confidence. I really appreciated the encouragement I got from the comment you wrote months ago. I loved the funny remark you posted on Facebook because it got me thinking about something in a new way. And I thank you so much for the feedback you offered on my story. 

And here’s another gift: my promise to pass along the same gifts you’ve given me to other writers.

Thank you and Merry Christmas, everyone, whether you celebrate the holiday or not.