Dear Father Christmas,
Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’ve been slack in keeping up the correspondence. Sorry about that. Unfortunately, growing up and life type stuff got in the way.
I confess I kind of wondered if you were real or not for a few decades there as well. Forgive me. I need you now, oh jolly, rotund one of redness.
This writer truly believes in you because let’s face it, If I can convince myself that characters are real on a regular basis, I think I can try to do the same about a fella who swooshes around the world on Christmas Eve with gifts for everyone, on a little sleigh, powered by reindeer. There are reasons why I don’t write fantasy.
I understand that it’s a little cheeky to be sending you a Christmas wish list now I’m adulting but I figured that as you haven’t visited in years, this may be my fault.
I haven’t written a letter to you since ‘The Great Cabbage Patch Kid Disappointment of 1983’. I wanted a girl, not a boy. Years of therapy were required, Santa. All is now forgiven.
I think you came back to punish me when the kitten I thought was a boy turned out to be a girl, five freaking months later. Lesson learned.
This Writer and Blogger Needs You, Father Christmas.
So leave those snotty little brats alone that you feel obliged to dish up the goods to. They’ll get over it if you bypass their house for mine. Life is tough. The sooner they understand this the better.
This writer and blogger needs you, Nicky boy. I have been a good(ish) girl.
For Christmas, please, please, please can I have the following in my list? I appreciate some may be more tricky to accomplish than others but I have faith in you.
My readers and followers are relying on you too for the sake of their sanity. Spare them a 2017 full of my continuing angst.
As Christmas is pantomime season, I would love to have some magic beans like Jack’s.
These ones are the special writer type that make first drafts miraculously grow into completed novels without any intervention on my part. I know they are rare and that other writers would sell their Grandma to acquire one, but I believe you can give me this, oh scarlet-clad bloke.
You can make this happen. For the love of writing, please make this happen.
A published novel through a major publishing house who thinks that my novel is flipping amazing, does all the promotion for me and I just sit back, watch the dosh rolling in and squirrel it all away into a Swiss bank account.
Or just turn me into J. K. Rowling if it’s easier.
Self-writing Blog Posts
I’d really like a device where I can place antennae on my head, it reads my messed up mind, and then writes my blog posts in a coherent and organised manner.
Not only will I be grateful but a few of my lovely followers may just fall at your feet in adoration also.
Facebook to Be Nicer to Writers and Bloggers
This is a miracle, I know, but it’s worth a punt.
Please can I, and my fellow writers and bloggers, have a Facebook page where every single person who bothered to like it in the first place actually gets to see that we have written a post, every time?
If this is impossible, please make Facebook disappear and provide an alternative where people get to actually, properly, follow the people they chose to. Or give Mark Zuckerberg a kick up the arse. Whatever is easier and the most satisfying for you.
Punishment for Ego on Facebook
If you can make it so that writers and bloggers in Facebook groups who shamelessly link drop and spam, against group rules, spontaneously combust the first time that they display their wares in a manner tantamount to a baboon flashing its shiny red arse, I’ll love you forever.
Ideas and Dream Catcher
I would love a technological advance that captures ideas and dreams in my head exactly as they are in my brain, on to the page. No messing, exactly the same and no added crappy filler as usually occurs.
Intravenous coffee without the ouchiness of a needle.
A servant to look after my home whilst I watch Netflix, sorry, write.
All the Cats in the World
A clowder of cats (yes, I looked it up) would complete me as a writer.
As it is writing law that a writer must have a cat in order to be able to write well, my theory is that a house full of them will magically make me the bestest writer in the world ever, ever.
I have the lovely Feegle and she has taught me Essential Lessons in the Way of ‘Kitten’ but I’m concerned that as she’s still young, the moggy writing force isn’t strong enough yet. Bring on the felines and the supreme power to write.
Oh, and explain why this is happening to the Husband before he comes home from work.
Now here’s a toughie for you… Please resurrect my first novel from writing purgatory. I know, I know. But I figure if Lazarus can be raised from the dead this may be worth the request.
Rewarding the Husband
Please give the Husband all the amazing things in the world that he so richly deserves for putting up with me and this writing and blogging gig. However, don’t spoil him too much as you’ll just make me look bad when I have to apologise for being a nightmare of a wife after writing.
An injection of self-confidence would be great. Again, if this can be achieved without the aid of a needle; even better. A one off vaccination against low self-esteem and the ‘I’m a rubbish writer’ disease would be fabulous.
I’d also like this for my closest writing friends. Not every writer, mind you. I could do without the competition.
A truck-load of Dairy Milk. Do you really need a reason here?
All the cheddar cheese.
A Marketing Assistant
I’d love a marketing guru to do all my self-promotion. Let them trawl through the promo threads of epic proportions, the tweets, the pins and the emails. I’ll just get on with the writing. Controversial, I know.
Many bloggers will hate me for this, but here goes…
Please make Pinterest disappear.
I’m so bored of constantly hearing about how it is the place to grow your blog following. I don’t doubt it but I don’t have the time for it.
I got fed up with it just planning my wedding.
I’m rubbish at strategy.
I just like pretty pictures.
Treat My Brother
Please give my brother something shiny and lovely for creating this glorious website and for putting up with my questions as I have tried to adapt to using it.
If you could keep giving him little gifts throughout the year as I will, no doubt, continue to keep asking him stupid questions, we would both very much appreciate it.
*Adopts 1980s style Miss World contestant voice and bikini clad pose*. I’d appreciate it if you would make this world a friendlier, loving, stable, and community-focused place.
Whilst negativity, badness and pain can make for great writing fodder, the shit show going on politically, financially, culturally and, for me, personally, right now, can be distracting.
Sorry, this request is just too much of a stretch.
Keep the Fire Burning
Help me to retain the desire to write. I lost it a little this year when depression took hold and I am scared of losing it again in the future.
Please help me to always hold on to this writing fire that has taken decades to stoke.
May it never be extinguished.
May I always value and love it.
In the more difficult days I know are going to come, may I also know that even when I cannot physically write, it’s there, in my mind and always with me.
My last request isn’t to receive something. I want to give something to you, to take away and destroy on my behalf.
Please take away the vestiges of the bout of depression I am now overcoming. I need my writing mojo fully back. I was so scared when I thought I had lost it: The Hiding Place of the Will to Write
I want to be able to focus for longer periods. I want to be free of this weight upon my mind and body as I find myself enthusing more about writing my blog posts and aiming to get back to my fiction writing.
Give me the strength to throw it away, a piece at a time, as I go down the road of recovery.
If nothing else on my list is given, just this one thing would be so much more than enough; for Christmas and beyond.
Thanks Father Christmas. I know you don’t often fulfill the requests of adults, let alone demanding writers and bloggers. However, I believe in you. I know you can do this.
If you don’t, watch out for a novel in 2017 called How Christmas Died with the Mysterious Slaughter of Santa.
With love from Lisa, aged (none of your bloody business). xx