‘Twas the night before Christmas, the office quiet as winter.
Nothing was stirring, not even the printer.
But on stroke of midnight, the pages awoke,
the protags jumped out & became party folk…!
Settings unspooled and stole the mince pies,
plots and pages danced ’til the sunrise.
The dust jackets pranced, then they stole all the wine,
and the paperbacks tried to clean up in time:
For as Christmas closed, the stories all hid,
as to be spied by a publisher was quite forbid.
But when the editors came back they all cried –
the stories were now totally different inside!
Wishing you all a very merry Festive Season and the best of adventures for 2018. Here’s to storytellers, the brave people who hold them, and the lovely literary explorers who read their tales. x