Sharing Nicely

UK publishers are notorious for shutting their doors on Christmas Eve and keeping them shut until the New Year. But for as many Christmases as I can remember, I've always written. Not this year. I tried, but hosting Christmas 2009 meant that something had to give and that was the writing. Somewhere in my kitchen (don't ask me how it ended up in the kitchen) is a hard copy of my manuscript, with two magic words on the last page: The End. As I'd promised my agent I would, I finished a third draft before Christmas. All I had to do was print it off, read through, correct and deliver. Then I found out that my family was descending a day earlier than I'd thought. There was so much to do and the clear day that I'd allocated for my last writing task went up in smoke. So I emailed Jenny and let her know that she'd see the manuscript in the New Year. Drat.

Christmas Day was a flurry of joyous activity with champagne corks popping, a fire burning in the hearth, family all around, a turkey in the oven... No, it wasn't in the oven. It was in the fridge. I'd written out a careful cooking schedule. The only thing I'd forgotten to add was the turkey. We ate a late late lunch, but everyone was very entertained and understanding. After Jenga, Strictly Come Dancing, coffee, wine, coffee ... I collapsed in bed. Waking up the next morning, I discovered that my sister had been ill all night with a bug. As she crept into my bed for comfort and a cuddle I heard my own stomach growl. Waving the family off, I smiled bravely then crawled back into my pyjamas, knowing that I'd caught the same bug. It still hasn't totally disappeared and holiday plans still have events to be played out, so I can only hope to feel better sooner rather than later. Oh rest, where art thou?

Somewhere between now and 4 January, I need to sit down with my manuscript. This break may have been for the best. I'll be able to read with a dispassionate eye, having been forced not to think about the plot for six whole days, at least. Reaching the end of a draft is such a feverish time, it's probably good that Christmas got in the way. I found it odd to think about all the other writers, agents, publishers, editors, bloggers who, for a few days, weren't thinking about work at all. The publishing machine was on hold. It will rev up again soon ... and who knows what 2010 will hold?

My favourite moment this Christmas was making peppermint creams on Christmas Eve morning with my sister. We haven't done something like that together since we were children. We presented them to my other sister when she arrived on Christmas Day as a special treat especially for her, but with instructions to share nicely. She did.