Tag Archives: Christmas

The Christmas Rose – A Story by Rus VanWestervelt

A writer I admire, Rus VanWestevelt (@rusvw13) has released a Christmas story, The Christmas Rose

A rose is covered in snow in a garden in Bremen, northwestern Germany. (Carmen Jaspersen/Getty Images)

A rose is covered in snow in a garden in Bremen, northwestern Germany. (Carmen Jaspersen/Getty Images)

It’s free to read, and to download, from his website. You can even read a ‘behind the scenes’ look at the meaning and motivation of the story. 

It’s a beautifully written story, very poignant and has a focus that goes beyond Christmas time. 

Do take the time to read and share the story.

Read the story: The Christmas Rose.

Read ‘behind the scenes:’ The Story Had To Be Told.

Reaching the End of the Toilet Roll and Hoping There’s Another

Time's Running Out

Time’s Running Out

Another year is about to come to an end like a toilet roll. Before we curse the fool who didn’t micro-manage their use of the toilet paper and replace it for you, we take a moment to pause and think about the year that was, which is currently floating in the bowl beneath our bum.

Two years ago I wrote about the beginning of my writing journey and the need to plan not for lists, but for goals.

At the beginning of this year I wrote down three words to help me focus on my goals: Disciplined, Dedication, Purposeful.

A quick reflection shows I haven’t met my goals, nor have I utilised the power of the three words I choose to help keep me on track.

I haven’t finished a number of projects I had on my goal list: I didn’t submit any short stories for publication; I haven’t finished editing my collaborative novel (there are 40 pages of edits to complete); I haven’t finished a multimedia short story; I haven’t finished my novella even though I set out to write a minimum of 100 words a day, five days a week (that came to a grinding halt at the 5K mark).

Which means what, exactly? Nothing really. The world didn’t end. My pen didn’t run out of ink and I judicially used the end of the roll of toilet paper.

There is always a story behind why something did or didn’t happen. My story is simple: my job (I am a high school English teacher) demanded a lot of my time this year, especially at certain points; I was mentally and emotionally exhausted by the end of the year. I was ill-disciplined and mastered the art of procrastination at times. I didn’t focus on my goals and set specific time frames to achieve things. I aimed to achieve too much in the year. I compared myself to others who were writing copiously and submitting regularly or churning out huge words counts in short, concentrated bursts.

Stuff happened. It just does. That’s how the toilet roll comes to an end.

Everyone has their own reasons for why they didn’t get something done.

But what have I done? I wrote. 

I finished my collaborative novel and we began the editing process. I began writing my novella. I dragged out the file of my multimedia short story. I wrote a month of Post It Note Poetry. I wrote a series, and continue to write, Post It Note Philosophy on creativity. I wrote the occasional poem. I blogged about creativity. I wrote a series of twitfic to keep me writing when I couldn’t commit to long periods of concentrated time to write. I used what time I had to think about projects, make notes, scribble sentences. 

The end of each year provides a moment to reflect, reevaluate and redefine what we want to achieve in the following year. I am trying to build momentum in my writing career.

Here’s what I will be doing:

  • I will find three new words for 2014.
  • I will establish my project goals for the year.
  • I will set up time lines for my projects.
  • I will allow life to happen.
  • I will continue to write (in whatever form it may be)

What do you do about it?

  • Tick off the things you have done (always look for the positives)
  • Rewrite your goals/project list (and be reasonable about what you can achieve)
  • Specify when and how you are going to go about completing your goals/projects
  • Give yourself permission to stop when you need to and give yourself a date when you will restart.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see a man about changing a toilet roll.

Merry Christmas 2011

Merry Christmas 2013

 

Tis the Season for Giving

It’s the Christmas season, a time of giving and rejoicing.

Therefore, I have a gift for you. I have written a Christmas-themed story for you to enjoy.

Click on the link below to download your copy.

A Christmas Story – The Cracker Factory

If you would like a signed hard copy, send me your address. Please be careful not to post your address in the public eye (I want to protect your privacy).

Blessings and Merry Christmas

Adam

The Highchair Philosophers 3: A Christmas Tale

Jeffrey sat amongst the ruins of a Lego wasteland.  Cross-legged his head rested in the palm of his left hand while the right pushed the coloured bricks around.  An air of despondency hung over his shoulders.

Samuel toddled in, noticing the morose figure in the desolate playground.  “It’s Christmas, Jeffrey, and you’re sitting there like you lost your favourite toy.”

“I’ve got some bad news.”

Samuel sat cross legged in front of his friend.  “What happened?”

“My Big Sister said that if I wasn’t good then I wouldn’t get any presents from Santa.  Instead, I would find potatoes in my stocking on Christmas morning.”

Quiet tut-tut noises came from Samuel.  Jeffrey continued his tale of misery.

“It got me to thinking.  Have I done enough good things to balance out all the bad things I’ve done this year?”

“Well, let’s make a list of the good things and the bad things you have done,” suggested Samuel.  “I’ll count while you tell.”

“Right,” said Jeffrey.  “This year there was the time I cut Big Sister’s Barbie doll’s hair.  I swear she said it would grow back.  Then there was the time I flushed Mum’s lipstick down the toilet.”  He rubbed his backside in sympathetic memory.

“Another time I broke Grandma’s favourite sugar bowl.  I was being ever so careful but the carpet tripped me up.  Last week I was drawing all over Dad’s papers on his desk.  I didn’t know they were exam papers he was marking.  And I got into trouble for pulling apart one of my books.  I wanted to use the pictures to go on my wall.  It was an honest misunderstanding.  How many is that?”

“Count my fingers.”

“One, two, three, four, five.”

“So, you need five or more things to put things in your favour,” said Samuel.

The pondering took some time as Jeffrey trawled through his memory banks.

“I help Dad wash the car, so that’s a good thing.  When Mummy comes home from the shops I help put away the groceries.  I remember to say ‘please’ and ‘thankyou’ most of the time.  And when Big Sister is watching television I let her choose the program,” conclude Jeffrey.

“That’s four.  What if you packed up all your toys without being asked?  Surely that counts for something,” suggested Samuel.

“It’s worth a try.”

Dragging over the plastic tub, Jeffrey plonked the plastic bricks one by one, a furrowed brow still lingering.

“But what if I haven’t done enough?  I’m not sure I have.”  Jeffrey sank to the floor, resting his head in his hands.

Samuel wandered away to give his friend some space to think.  He stopped at the coffee table in the corner.

“What’s this over here with the baby and the people with tea towels on their heads?”

“Mum says that’s the baby Jesus and Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and some wise guys,” said Jeffrey.  “They have something to do with Christmas, but I forget what Mum said.  I think she said that it was about the true meaning of Christmas.”

Samuel had a brainwave.  “What if we ask the baby Jesus?  Mum is always saying you can ask Jesus.  Couldn’t hurt.”

“Good idea.”

The boys knelt down beside the nativity scene, screwed their eyes tightly shut, hands folded in supplication and prayer.

“Dear Baby Jesus,” said Jeffrey.  “I was wondering if you would be able to put a good word in for me with Santa.  Amen.”