‘Twas a week before Christmas when all through the night,
Revisions were stirring– Tomorrow I’d write!
I’d promised my agent a debut best-seller.
“I’m finished! Let’s send it!” I wanted to tell her.
But children arrived with their laundry from college.
(My nest had been empty as they searched for knowledge.)
Alas, the house bustled with merry distractions.
My YA, however, still needed key actions.
I’d trimmed it, and shaped it, and read it for clanks.
(To Halverson, Price, and Miss Klein–Many thanks!)
My writing pals read it. I knew what to do.
But egg-nog by egg-nog, my writing time flew:
Wrap presents, bake cookies, string lights on the tree…
My manuscript whimpered, “Hey, what about me?”
Each night as I nestled all snug in my bed,
Revisions–not sugarplums–danced in my head:
Take beats for each character! Kill off a few!
Weave subplots, and –say–Is this one book or two?
Then down in the kitchen, arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my angst, to see what was the matter.
“Join us. We’re starving!” the college kids cheered,
While cocoa, and cookies, and more friends appeared.
Their eyes how they sparkled, as bright as the tree.
Each story a gift they unwrapped just for me.
Ye writers of kidlit, it made me remember
How holidays hook me each year in December.
So clicking a finger aside of my mouse
I’ll tuck in my YA as joy fills our house.
And to my dear agent (East/West you’re the best!),
To editors, author pals, no doubt you’ve guessed,
We’ll call this week research, these days that delight.
Happy Holiday magic! (No writing tonight!)