I ended up writing a total of 37,187 words in my novel for NaNoWriMo last month. Add this to the words I wrote for podcast show notes, clients' social media posts, ghostwriting clients, and the holiday short story contest and I'm sure I hit 50,000 words overall in November. But the goal was 50,000 words on the novel, so I fell a bit short.
Here is the short story, "Three Wise Men in the Family," that I wrote for Florida Times-Union's Holiday Writing Contest. It seems they didn't receive my entry... The prompt was to include three wise men bearing gifts. Be gentle in your critiques. This is the first fictional piece of writing I've written since high school.
I hope you enjoyed a joyful Christmas and made many new memories. Wishing you a blessed 2018!
Droplets of water tapped lightly against Leah’s umbrella. It was Christmas in St. Augustine, Florida so the chance of the rain turning into snow was naught. As she walked along the cobblestone streets gazing at the white lights, she became lost in her thoughts.
“Leah? Earth to Leah?”
“Oh sorry, honey.”
“I was asking – oh never mind. What are you thinking about?”
“I’m sure you can guess…” she trailed off.
Her husband Max sighed, “I want one just as bad, Leah. And I’m sorry that that’s the one thing I can’t just pick up at the store for you. It will happen.”
“I’m tired of waiting, Max. And I’m beginning to think I’m not meant to be a mother.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t say that.” He pulled her into a hug. “Let’s try to be happy. It’s Christmas Eve, and we’ll be seeing your family tomorrow.”
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Laughter and voices filled the house. With such a large family, they opted for a gift exchange every year. Most of the items people brought were gag gifts. But there were always a few well thought out gifts in the mix too.
Instead of drawing names and plainly prompting each person to pick a present under the tree, Leah found a poem. Pressing the home button on her iPad, she called everyone to attention.
“Alright, all the names are in?” A resounding yes made its way around the room. “Okay, first up,” she reached into the full Santa hat and pulled out a slip of folded paper, “Uncle Paul, Lucky you, you're number one. You get to start all the fun. So, grab a gift and grab it quick. Cause you're the one who gets first pick."
He reached for the largest box under the tree.
Leah’s Dad teased his brother, "You know the biggest box isn't always the best, Paul."
Ripping off the wrapping and peeling the box open, packaged between a mountain of tissue paper was a single water bottle with a label on the outside that read 'Melted Snowman.' The room erupted with laughter. "Very funny," he said cracking it open and taking a sip as he sat back down. "Frosty is delicious."
"Alright, alright. Max! You’re next," said Leah. "Number two you're on the way. It's time for you to have your say. Get your gift and when you're done, swap it off with number one."
"Oops," exclaimed Paul, "I think I already drank Frosty's head." Hilarity ensued among the family.
"So, I just pick any gift under here?"
"Anyone you want, Max. Maybe pick a couple up and shake them a bit."
"No! Don't shake the one in the green paper," said Grandpa Miles.
"Shhhhhh! Grandpa, now we all know that one's from you!" said Leah.
"Oh, sorry. But you still can't go shaking that one."
"Well, now I’m curious. Let’s see what this one is," Max said picking up the gift wrapped in green. Pulling the paper off and removing the lid he pulled out a bouquet of dried flowers with a puzzled look on his face, “What’s this about, Grandpa?”
“I’m getting up there in my years, and as the patriarch of the family, I want to remind you all of mortality. Once I’m gone, I want you all to remember the good times we have had together. Though these flowers are dried up, you know that they were once full of brightness and life.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” said Leah’s Dad, “How morbid can you be, Pops?”
He shrugged his arms and made a face as to say, ‘it’s the truth.’ Max switched the flowers out with Uncle Paul for his opened water bottle of Frosty.
“Alright, next… Oh, I got my name. Number three its plain to see. It's your turn to pick which gift `twill be. And when your choosing job is through, swap with one and then with two." Looking at the mound of presents left under the tree she dug to the bottom and pulled out a small box. Inside was a Magnolia seed tied to a notecard, “Patience,” read Leah aloud. “I love it. I wish I didn’t have to trade out though.” She frowned and switched gifts with Max and then her Uncle.
“I knew you’d like that one,” said Leah’s Dad while smiling at her. He was always telling her to be patient and that her time to become a mother was coming.
Making her way back to her post on the edge of the couch, Leah drew the next name, “Cathy, you’re up Mom. Number four must use your head. So, grab a gift that has some red. If it doesn't suit you to a 'T,' You may swap with two or three.” There were four red packages under the tree, and she grabbed a box with a glittery gold bow on top. Inside was an arrangement of unopened mini roses.
“Aw, well these will be great when they open up,” she grunted.
“Look at the inside of the lid,” insisted Uncle Paul.
She flipped it over and read aloud, “Hope.”
“In this crazy world of hate and despair, we all need to have hope. Hope for humanity, hope for the future, and hope for new life,” Paul said turning his gaze to Leah and Max.
The poem continued until everyone had picked a gift and they all had many laughs at the presents everyone brought. Leah and Max were filling up their glasses with apple cider when Grandpa Miles, Uncle Paul, and her Dad walked up to the couple.
“We appreciate you being so open to the family about your struggle to become parents,” said Leah’s Dad. “And we want to help, but aren’t sure how. So, let us know how we can support you both.”
“Thank you. Simply acknowledging the fact and doing what you three did today encourages us to continue on the journey. Merry Christmas!”
