Wednesday, November 24, 2010

How to kill more than time on your holiday

This holiday I thought I would start the celebration by offering a unique writing prompt with party gifts as incentives.

As you entertain your family and friends this holiday season and sit down to a wonderful meal filled with love and laughter, I want you to think like a fiction writer. What am I saying? You ARE fiction writers. . . even if only in your mind. In this instance though you have to actually write something down and share it on the blog in order to be eligible for a party prize.

What are the party prizes?

• A copy of any ONE of my novels – reading for those holiday travels or an escape from the family frenzy!

• A copy of KILLER RECIPES – just in time for those holiday meals!

• A box of my homemade chocolates made by my very own Sweets by Denise hands.

How to win one or more of these fabulous participation gifts?

Pretend you are having a little get together at your home or office and you’ve invited everyone you want to celebrate with and maybe a few you don’t in the hopes of fun, food, and family and friends. Who wouldn’t want that? Or perhaps you really are having a gathering so all you have to do is observe, plot, and share.

However, we all have those relatives, friends (maybe not such good friends), and work associates that when you put them in a social venue just should be locked in a closet, chained to a chair, and gagged for the duration. In this case, you get to describe the holiday offense and tell us who should pay the price.

Share with us a family member, friend, or foe who when you gather for food and fun and hear the song “Grandma got run over by a reindeer”, somewhere in the back of your mind you are thinking that they got the wrong person.

Need some silly ideas to get you started? Gee! I might have a few. . . (none of whom are my family or friends)

You have an uncle who refuses to join the family at the dinner table because he cannot miss one minute of football. Heck, if you gave him one of those hospital bottle urinals he’d probably never leave his chair to pee. Grandma is at the dinner table stewing and upset about her ungrateful, ungracious son. What should we do with said uncle for making your wonderfully sweet grandma cry over her minced-meat pie?

Your favorite aunt makes the most disgusting “green salad” for every holiday meal. It’s not green because there is lettuce in the salad. Nope. This salad is called “green salad” because thanks to lime jell-o mix it practically glows in the dark. Add to it some chunk pineapple, cottage cheese, and cool whip, and you have the makings for a death trap. You don’t want your favorite aunt to die, but somehow you have to come up with a way to stop her from making this toxic sludge. Who must die?

Everyone has a cousin who is loud, obnoxious and a boil on the butt of your lovely family. Supposedly he hob-knobs with the so-called elite and basically believes his doo-doo doesn’t stink. Truth is, when he’s away from his claw-for-nails, overdressed wife who wears makeup as if she were a clown in the rodeo he is actually a pretty nice guy who enjoys a cold beer out of the bottle and a football game. I’m thinking save him, shoot the wife!

Oh! Wait! One more.

The monster child! You know the one. The boy or girl terrorizes all the other children, tries to strangle the family cat, and inevitably dumps food on your ancient aunt who sits quietly in the corner. All while the parents coo, “Isn’t he a joy? We just love his energy.” I’m not advocating killing off the child, cuz hello, that’s just mean, but the parents. . . now that’s a different story.

2 comments:

Robin K November 24, 2010 at 3:24 PM  

A relative of far far relation, who is best left unknown, is no longer welcome in my home.

She nor her children will cross my threshold, not bearing gifts, be it jello or scone.

No more terror for me, crying and fits. I will not need to cringe at the scattered pottery bits.

The food will stay fresh and the chips with the dip. I will not find floaters during my sip.

All things in their places, and floors that stay clean. Please tell me that I will not wake from this dream.

Come holiday morn I will snuggle in sheets, sure as a stuffed clam of no horrible thanksgiving defeat.

-- Happy Thanksgiving Denise --

Denise November 25, 2010 at 8:26 AM  

Robin - That was terrific!

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