Photos from the Beat
O Christmas Blog, O Christmas Blog ...
If you're not already reading Joe Bednar's 12 Days of Christmas Memories , you should start.
I've taken to calling him an ass under my breath for the last three days, as I take a break around lunch time to read his latest post and end up sobbing into my sandwich. From his first Christmas with his wife to the year he found out he was going to have a new baby brother as a junior in college, each post is exquisitely crafted, and while I despise him for cracking my steely exterior, his stories have become one of my favorite parts of Christmas 2007.
I've always loved Christmas, and while some are more memorable than others, there's always some type of story connected to the holiday -- it's one of those polarizing times of year that, quite frankly, can make or break you.
Professionally, a writer's milestone came for me at Christmastime: I received my first check for a published story -- a short fiction piece I wrote as a sophomore in high school for our hometown newspaper. They published my photo, too - a strained, awkward looking image that highlighted the fashions of the early nineties - leggings, flats, baggy sweater, bangs (and eyebrow) straight across the forehead.
A few days after the publication dropped, I received a check for $25 in the mail and promptly cashed it. I have no idea what I bought - probably a book or a cassette tape of some sort - maybe Ace of Base.
In fact, I didn't even remember the check until my mother faxed it to me recently - she found it in a pile of papers as she cleaned out her desk. I have it tacked up in my office to remind me that this is what I was meant to do for a living, and I still love writing just as much as I did then.
Granted, the freelance checks sometimes aren't much larger than the first, but no one becomes a writer to make it rich.
We become writers to make it real.
