Since we are now on that steep snowbank of holiday season, careening at gathering speed from Thanksgiving to Hanukkah to Christmas to Kwanzaa to Festivus to New Years to Oh Lord Another Year Has Passed, I offer up my annual tradition: My short story, “Home for the Holidays,” which combines a feud, holiday lights, and … murder. You’ll never see decorations the same way again.

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As I told M Sunday night around 12:15 am (so okay, it was early Sunday morning), it's easier than breaking rocks to get paid to cover the Oscars from the comfort of your own home office … but six hours in front of the TV and computer screen ain't for wusses, either. We got home…

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