Friday, December 7

Falling in Love with Christmas

by Margie Senechal

The past couple of weeks, I've been on Christmas romance reading spree. It all began with Nan's book, A Small Town Christmas. I think I've read more than I've watched Hallmark movies this season. Although that could be because if I'm watching something on TV, it's The Great British Bake-Off. You'd think I'd be in the baking mood, but it hasn't hit yet.


Anyway, back to reading--which is going to lead to writing.

A couple of years ago, I had a nugget of an idea for a Christmas romance, that actually begins on New Year's Eve. But, there's mistletoe involved and a little cupid fairy. I do so love a touch of magic.
Image result for it's not the trip it's the journey 
The nugget of the story was this: What happens under the mistletoe, stays under the mistletoe. But, what if it didn't? That was my idea when I began tinkering with the story, but I don't think that's where it will end up. 

 I don't think that matters as most ideas don't end where they began. Writing is sometimes like a drive on a country road--lots of twists, turns, and rolling hills along the journey.

Anyway, I've pulled the story out here and there. Which is actually how I tend to write--which is why I have more starts than finishes, I think. 

And after reading five or six Christmas stories in a quick succession. I thought, "Hey, you should pull out that story and have a look."

So, on Wednesday, I did:



Image result for mistletoeTwyla skimmed through the air avoiding champagne bubbles floating up from freshly uncorked bottles. There wasn’t much time left.
“I’m sorry.” The man who wasn’t the boyfriend said to the woman. “Sometimes—”
The woman shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t make excuses for him.”
“Ten.”
Twyla watched as the arrow split in half. One for the man, one for the woman. She glanced at the bathroom, willing the man to return in time.
“Five!” The crowd shouted.
“Ashlynn—” He started.
She looked up at him, unshed tears shimmering under the glittery lights.
“Two.”
“One.”
“Happy New Year,” he said and lowered his head to hers, where it lingered waiting for confirmation.
She tilted her chin up. “You too.”
His mouth landed on hers softly in a chaste, friendly kiss.
And then the newly-separated arrow hit the wrong man and the right woman.



It must've been a while since I'd looked at it, because I'd forgotten that I'd given the heroine a younger half-brother who has mental disability and the hero a deaf older sister. Plus, I'd created a wonderful backstory and forcasted the final scene. Hmmmm...

I'm stuck with Bix right now...so I think I might just go with the holiday and type the pages I haven't typed in yet and see where this winding road leads. 

As this is my last post until after Christmas, let me wish you happy shopping days--and please be kind to your cashiers, we don't make the rules, we only work here, happy baking and making days, happy decorating days and going on light-viewing nights, and a very Merry Christmas!

7 comments:

  1. The snippet of your Christmas/New Year story has me intrigued. I hope you finish it. I want to know why the "wrong" is really the right one. Have a wonderful Christmas, Margie!

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  2. This is so good! Keep going!

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  3. Love this - but I miss Suitcases!! :D

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