A romance writer’s letter to Saint Nicholas
©2013, Cindy Spencer Pape
Dear Santa Claus,
‘Tis the month before Christmas and all through my house,
Everything’s crazy, down to the last mouse.
The stocking are hung, but they’re crooked and worn.
Could you bring us some new ones that haven’t been torn?
Or a maid to do dishes and cook a good meal?
While I’m finishing up this next three-book deal.
My children are tucked, all snug in their beds
While visions of X-boxes dance in their heads.
Could you bring me some headphones so that I can write,
Without hearing gunshots and screams through the night,
As the zombies they kill and the aliens fry.
It’s hard to write love scenes to “Die, jerkface, die!”
Papa is asleep, the remote in his lap,
While I on my keyoard do tap, tap, tap, tap.
Please bring me an hour or two for each day,
So I can both work and the clothes put away.
The laundry is piled clear up to the door.
While all last week’s junk mail is strewn ‘cross the floor.
I meant to bake cookies and gingerbread too,
But the sugar is gone and I can’t find my shoes.
We did buy a tree and it ought to be lit,
But who has the time when the deadlines do hit.
I’ve still to buy presents, could you bring me a few?
For who has the time, and the mall is a zoo?
Just one chapter more and I’ll call it a night.
Dear Santa, I do wish you well on your flight.
Please add a new plot twist or two to your sack,
And some fresh inspiration for this tired hack.
I could use a good hero with a strong iron jaw,
But he must be an alpha and must have a flaw.
And a heroine sweet, but not too sweet you know,
And a setting where everyone will want to go.
Please don’t forget when you visit my place,
To leave a few meals to stuff in my face,
So I can keep working despite all the rage,
I hear when I tell them all, “Just one more page.”
I wish most of all for a night with my spouse,
With the kids taken care of and out of the house.
No housework to do and no pages to write,
Just the two of us for one lovely night.
To remind him that he is the love of my life,
And how happy I am to still be his wife.
So please while you’re at it, bring something for him,
For he knows that my writing is more than a whim.
He loves me despite the fool life that I lead.
And really, St. Nick, that is all that I need.
To live and to love and to write about those,
Keeps me happy and smiling as sweet as a rose,
So now that you know what I’m needing this year,
I do hope you won’t pass me by in a fear.
I shall not mug you for things on my list,
I won’t be waiting with gun or with fist,
Nor even a curled up warm by the fire,
I’ll be at my desk with a deadline dire.
Another year is swiftly fleeting,
So take this letter as my greeting,
I may forget a gift or card,
But I think of you with warm regard.
Give those you love a hard hug or two,
Happy holidays, all, may your wishes come true!