A recent foray through a used book stored yielded a nifty find when I walked out with this first edition of Christmas at The New Yorker. Quite a bit in this collection, with work dating back to the days of Harold Ross (founding editor) and including essays by luminaries such as E.B. White, James Thurber, Dorothy Parker and John Updike.
This book has joined my growing pile of other Christmas titles--books I plan to read during the season.
Now I must begin collecting my book of gifts to buy--that long list of items I'll need to find for wife, children, parents, cousins, nieces, and friends. If my wife and I can agree, we might skip Christmas entirely this year and forgo our own gift exchange, just keep our socks naked. (But then, I already have one gift for her and another on the way.)
As far as writing is concerned, I'm way ahead of the Christmas trends. I already have my annual Christmas story at the printers--along with our family letter--and all of my columns and even some poems have already been mailed. Now I can write what I enjoy for the season . . . perhaps with some hot chocolate in hand.
And I look forward to reading James Thurber, too.
This book has joined my growing pile of other Christmas titles--books I plan to read during the season.
Now I must begin collecting my book of gifts to buy--that long list of items I'll need to find for wife, children, parents, cousins, nieces, and friends. If my wife and I can agree, we might skip Christmas entirely this year and forgo our own gift exchange, just keep our socks naked. (But then, I already have one gift for her and another on the way.)
As far as writing is concerned, I'm way ahead of the Christmas trends. I already have my annual Christmas story at the printers--along with our family letter--and all of my columns and even some poems have already been mailed. Now I can write what I enjoy for the season . . . perhaps with some hot chocolate in hand.
And I look forward to reading James Thurber, too.
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