SO I entered a fun Christmas Carol lyric contest and didn't win, but thought you'd enjoy my carol anyway.
Whirlwind of the Writer
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This book is getting a lot of publicity. Some say it's because it was written by a celebrity. After all, as a wise author recently commented, if a celebrity sneezes on a napkin the agents fall over themselves to turn it into a children's book.
But I want to tell you a secret...
Writing Secrets Unveiled at the Placerville Library
Guest Post by Krystal Owens
Are you a fan of the world of fantasy in all its many forms, spectrums and realms? Are you an aspiring author looking for advice from those who have come before you, those brave souls who have battled in the trenches of book publishing and emerged victorious? Join us as we welcome four published authors to our Fantasy Author Panel at 1:00 pm on Saturday, January 3, 2015 at the Placerville Library, 345 Fair Lane.
He pulled on his snow clothes and tromped out onto the crisp… grass. Not a single snowflake anywhere.
Chad stared at the swirling mists of white surrounding him. It wasn’t snow, so it had to be… smoke! He covered his mouth and ran back in.
“Mom! Something’s on fire out there.”
Mom glanced out the window. “It’s just fog.”
Chad had heard how clouds sometime get too heavy and hang out near the ground. Airplanes can’t take off or land. And tonight Chad needed someone to land – on his house.
A large lump formed in his throat. “This wild weather is going to ruin Christmas.” Chad moaned. “How will Santa find our house?”
Mom shrugged. She probably didn’t believe in Santa. “What about Rudolph?”
Chad rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mom, I know there’s no such reindeer.”
Mom chuckled and walked away. Obviously Mom wasn’t going to save Christmas, so Chad had to do it. He bounded up to his room to do a little googling.
How to Warn in Fog. Chad clicked on websites that looked helpful. He learned how foghorns guide ships safely to the lighthouses. That gave Chad a whopper of an idea. He downloaded the foghorn sound to his iPod and secured the speakers on the outside of his window. Hopefully the duct tape would hold.
BARRROOOGGG! BARRROOOOGGG! All evening the speakers blared. Chad snuggled into his bed with a large smile. Santa would be sure to hear that.
BAARRRROOOOGGGG! BARRROOOGGGG! Chad tossed and turned, but he just couldn’t get to sleep.
BAARRROOOOGGGG! BAARRROOOOOGGGG! It had to be close to midnight, and Chad couldn’t even dose off. It was no use.
BAARRROOOGGGG! BAARROOO- Chad clicked the off button on his iPod. His eyes burned and he tried to blink away the tears.
Slumping back into bed, Chad looked toward the awful haze one last time. A red light blinked outside his window. Chad drifted off, a smile coaxing away his worries. What do you know, Rudolph was real after all.
I write about, with, for, and around kids all day. (Well, maybe I do the dishes too. Sometimes.)