A little holiday greeting.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my head
Were hitchhiking ghost-girls and hungry undead,
And dinosaurs dancing and pandemic flu --
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true --
And Chris in his wisdom has finished the notes
Containing Bill's art and the songs that I wrote
To go with the album we're printing with care
(Red Roses and Dead Things, a spooky affair).
My tickets are purchased, my plans are all set,
I'm wracking my brain to guess what I'll forget,
And Vixy and Tony are waiting with glee
For the holiday gift that I'm giving them -- me.
Two thousand and eight is a year nearly done,
But we spent it quite well, and we had lots of fun.
I signed with an agent who knows that I'm mad,
And isn't disturbed -- no, I think that she's glad
For madness compells me to write constantly,
And I didn't sell one book this year -- I sold three!
Rosemary and Rue is the first of the lot,
And is the third book where it ends? I think not!
Next Newsflesh! Then Clady! On Velma and Corey!
Then on to InCryptid, where Price girls get gory!
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady --
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.
The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,
I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,
And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
Perhaps the pandemic will find us at last!
(If that happens, I'll see you all up in Grants Pass.)
The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"
Were hitchhiking ghost-girls and hungry undead,
And dinosaurs dancing and pandemic flu --
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true --
And Chris in his wisdom has finished the notes
Containing Bill's art and the songs that I wrote
To go with the album we're printing with care
(Red Roses and Dead Things, a spooky affair).
My tickets are purchased, my plans are all set,
I'm wracking my brain to guess what I'll forget,
And Vixy and Tony are waiting with glee
For the holiday gift that I'm giving them -- me.
Two thousand and eight is a year nearly done,
But we spent it quite well, and we had lots of fun.
I signed with an agent who knows that I'm mad,
And isn't disturbed -- no, I think that she's glad
For madness compells me to write constantly,
And I didn't sell one book this year -- I sold three!
Rosemary and Rue is the first of the lot,
And is the third book where it ends? I think not!
Next Newsflesh! Then Clady! On Velma and Corey!
Then on to InCryptid, where Price girls get gory!
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady --
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.
The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,
I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,
And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
Perhaps the pandemic will find us at last!
(If that happens, I'll see you all up in Grants Pass.)
The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"