Ten Things Writers Say, and What They Really Mean
(The Holiday Edition)
A diamond necklace? Honey, you shouldn't have!
Diamonds? Where am I going to wear diamonds, to the grocery store? What happened to the new laptop I wanted, you moron?
Give me five minutes, sweetie, and I'll help you bake those cookies.
Five minutes in writer time is actually five hours. Or, if I'm having trouble with the WIP, days. Possibly weeks, or months, or . . . look, sweetie, cookies are bad for you.
Going to your office Christmas party should be great fun.
If your boss asks me one more time if I've published anything yet I'm dumping the punch bowl on his toupeed head.
Honey, I love driving around and looking at Christmas lights with you.
God, I could have written two or three chapters by now. And figured out that chase scene problem, too. Ooh, someone's house is on fire -- Honey, pull over!
I enjoy giving signed books to my friends during the holidays.
If my friends weren't such damn cheapskates I wouldn't have to keep giving them free books that they're never going to read anyway.
Let me read you "'Twas the Night Before Christmas."
I'm not going to imagine Santa naked this time. Or that thing he could do with the mouse, a candy cane and that bowl full of jelly.
My book is being released in December, so I expect it to sell like hotcakes.
My book is going to tank because in December the bookstore clerks are going to be too busy to unpack boxes and shelve it.
My family doesn't want me to hog the conversation at the dinner table.
If I tell one more decapitation story and make Grandma throw up again my family is going to make me eat dinner on a tray in my room.
Of course I'll make it to church on time.
They still do that midnight mass thing, right?
The holidays always fill me with joy.
Which holidays are these again?