It's a really great way to end what has — for the most part — been a pretty trying year.
The story came about last November when I was visiting the family in their suburban Austin digs; anyone who knows me and listens to it will hear lots of Easter eggs, though the characters aren't directly modeled off of anyone. Except the dog.
While I was down there for Thanksgiving, I remember coming back from my brother's home and Mom pointing out that folks were already decorating their houses for Christmas. "It's like a competition," she noted.
That marinated for a few days, and when I got home it all came out pretty fast. When I get one that people (i.e. publishers) seem to like, I rarely need revisions. When I have to go over it a dozen times, that's probably one that's dead meat. This one I think had a rough draft and a final version and that was about it.
I sent it off to Kevin Colligan at pulp fiction podcast Well Told Tales (where I'd been vetting some of their stories for a few months already, and listening to for longer than that) and to my shock he took it. And there was compensation.
Listening to it tonight I discovered two small flaws (in the story, not the telling) that I'm hoping no one else finds annoying. But I'm the anal-retentive writer, so of course they'll irk me forever.
Do head on over to Well Told Tales! (Or subscribe to it via ITunes.) I'd love to hear what you think — ideally on the site there or over here is fine, too. With luck, the muse will strike again and I'll have more up soon. And if not, apparently I'll just have to talk to my mom more often.
I never had a huge readership on this blog, but I did have a few folks who tuned in here and there and for that, I apologize. I just glommed on to Facebook around the time work got insanely busy, and blogging just took up too much spare time I suddenly didn't have. I may return in the new year to this space, maybe not, but feel free to check in over at Facebook (I think the link is on the left) and feel free to friend me!
Have a great holiday season folks, and watch out for waving Santas on the front lawn.