By Jordan Dane
My husband. He’s one of the most focused people I know. And he can never sit still. He just retired from a long career with the airline industry as a customer service rep, or as I like to say, he’s the guy who lost your luggage. I should have known that even with time on his hands, he would act like there’s never enough hours in a day. (I mean seriously, what did he do when he had a full time job?) No kidding, this guy works non-stop, running errands, adding his personal touches to our new home (mostly guy type stuff like switch plates, bulbs, window tinting, garage shelves, etc), and wandering the aisles of Home Depot looking for new projects worthy of his attention. What’s not to love about this guy? Especially when he putters around the house and leaves me to write.
Now I’ve got the holidays coming up, and yet again, I have a book project deadline that is looming. It’s a squishy one. My publisher has already given me more time, but I still don’t want to abuse that courtesy, so I’m trying to stick close to the original date. But as the holidays get closer, there are certain things I do that are purely my thing, like our Christmas newsletter. (Joy to the world! Another writing project with a hard and fast deadline.)
Now for years, my busy, detail-oriented husband dutifully has given me HIS list of noteworthy things we’ve done during the year, to make sure I don’t forget to mention them. Need I say, that as an author of FICTION, I find these things fairly tedious and mundane. Are they real? Yes. Do people need to know we did them? Not so much.
So in the past, I have embellished our lives with my creative imaginings by making us ambassadors to foreign countries, or polar bear hunters, or the first line of defense when space aliens invaded Aruba while we were drinking numerous libations at the Pega Pega bar. So before my husband gives me his list, I was hoping to get help from the very creative people we have posting to this blog.
What fun—and very untrue—things can I add to my Christmas letter for 2010? Or what fun things have you read in other Christmas newsletters? Has anyone made you laugh out loud at their annual letter?
I think it would be funny to have the newsletter describe the new wing on your house that your husband has built in his newly free time. To illustrate it, you could include a picture of the Taj Mahal. (Be sure to check with hubbie for his take on it first–some guys don’t like us joking around about serious stuff like home repair, lol.)
I know how you feel I usually get the “well you’re the creative writer, why don’t you do something creative and writer-ie”. Then when they read it they come back with “why are there polar bears surfing in Tahiti?”
“Because they didn’t want to be in Detroit for Christmas either!”
“Fine, we’ll just send the stupid JOY cards. Thanks.”
Jordan, I would suggest incorporating the following into your Yuletide newsletter: federal investigation, secret society, lawn infestation, Hillary Clinton, mistaken identity, BMW, windfall profit, collateral damage, roundabout, and flesh wound. CC me on the final draft.
How about some Steampunk this year? Photoshop a pic of you and your husband waving from a zeppelin as you cross over the Atlantic. Don’t forget your goggles.
Great idea, Kathryn! And he’d probably tweak the Taj Mahal if he lived there too. You can never have enough energy saving bulbs, you know.
Gawd, Chaco–I can totally see this happening. Writer-ie isnt that easy. And everyone’s a critic. But I am seriously thinking about those surfing polar bears in Tahiti.
When I lived in Alaska, we’d hop down to Hawaii all the time. And you can see Alaskans from a distance. Our skin was always pinkish white, so we’d stand out like polar bears on the sand. Jeez!
Hey Joe–Is that a challenge for me to use all your words in a Christmas newsletter–because I am so into this. very cool. LOL
When I was on crimespace more, a group of us had gotten bored one afternoon and we found an online generator of cliches. Once we got our assigned list, we wrote short stories using those terrible random cliches. Some pretty talented writers wrote the worst passages you’ll ever read. Too funny. Then we went back to work.
OMG Shelley– I love the steampunk idea. And I’m sure with all the props we have around here, I can even find some real goggles to use OMG…how hysterical. Great idea!
Oh boy, I love those newsletters. We used to know a family that sent out gushing letters every year-so pompous and smug that they bordered on satire.
Back when I was in my twenties, we sent out Christmas ransom notes one year claiming that we would only be returned safely if a donation was sent to one of three different charitable organizations. Sick, I know, but money was raised for the Red Cross, Heifer Foundation, and WWF.
OMG Michelle–What if no one sent money? Guess that would be a very bad year…worse than getting a lump of coal.
Pretty funny idea. My family back east already doesn’t understand us. Why not do a ransom? LOL
We did a political satire version of the Grinch that Stole Christmas one year. And another time I wrote a whole Christmas carole book, using my own lyrics.
Again, when I had more time. (insert eye roll here)
With your husband’s new free time, I’m sure he uncovered some interesting things when he wandered into the basement of the Smithsonian and, taking a trip in the real time machine (invented by the real HG Wells) he met Bill Gates and decided to lend him some start up money for his crazy computer idea.
Now, you’re stinking rich and writing your Christmas letter from the future, sitting in your serenity pool in your domed garden-on the moon.
WC–Your story really cracked me up. Since we went to Wash DC not too long ago, I could totally see my husband rooting around the basement of the Smithsonian. Thanks for the laugh. Love it.