Just in case you want some ideas for Christmas writing... Sue Purkiss

(Tamsin Cook usually posts on the 30th, but she's not well this month. So as a feeble substitute, I'm putting this up; it's the latest task for my writing group, which appears on my Let's Write blog. It might just possibly come in useful if you're planning to do a workshop - or if not, just enjoy the poem and the extract!)

I was going to present you with some images of Christmas as a starting point for writing - but when I googled Christmas, none of the images that came up really seemed to represent Christmas for me. Though I did like this one!)

So I decided instead to look for some writing that I hope will inspire you. First, here's a poem by U A Fanthorpe.

BC : AD

This was the moment when Before

Turned into After, and the future's 

Uninvented timekeepers presented Arms.

This was the moment when nothing

Happened. Only dull peace

Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans

Could find nothing better to do

Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment

When a few farm workers and three

Members of an obscure Persian sect

Walked haphazard by starlight straight 

Into the kingdom of heaven.

*****

And in a very different mood, this comes from The Country Child, by Alison Uttley. This book is about a year in the life of a little girl living on a Derbyshire farm at the end of the 19th century. There's a whole chapter on Christmas, full of the most delicious things, but this bit is from the beginning.

Christmas Day

Susan awoke in the dark of Christmas morning. A weight lay on her feet, and she moved her toes up and down. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was Christmas Day. She stretched out her hands and found the knobby little stocking, which she brought into bed with her and clasped tightly in her arms as she fell asleep again.

She awoke later and lay holding her happiness, enjoying the moment. The light was dim, but the heavy mass of the chest of drawers stood out against the pale walls, all blue like the snow shadows outside. She drew her curtains and looked out at the starry sky. She listened for the bells of the sleigh, but no sound came through the stillness except the screech-owl's call.

Again she hadn't caught Santa Claus. Of course she knew he wasn't real, but also she knew he was. It was the same with everything. People said things were not alive, but you knew in your heart they were: statues which would catch you if you turned your back were made of stone; Santa Claus was your father and mother; the stuffed fox died long ago.*

*(The stuffed fox was something she saw on her way to bed every night, which she was afraid of.)

Some suggestions for getting started:

Get a biggish piece of plain paper and make a spider chart - put down, without thinking too much, all the ideas, memories and things you associate with Chistmas. Circle the ones that stand out. 

• Consider: would they fit a poem best, or a short story, or a memoir/reflective piece? If you're stuck - how about taking one of the lesser figures in the Bible story, or just an onlooker, and telling the rather unlikely story from their point of view, eiter as a poem or as a story?
• Or, think back to a Christmas you've experienced, which was memorable in some way, either good or bad: the turkey that wasn't cooked, the storm that caused a power cut, the relations who didn't get on... the first Christmas in a new house or in a foreign country. 
• Or go for a children's story - make it magical or funny: the elf that fell out with Santa, the new-fangled motorised sleigh that put Rudolph out of business. Or make it darker: the present you wanted so much but didn't get, the Christmas play that went all wrong, the arguments that marred the big day. Or, you could think back to how Christmas was for you as a child.

Illustration by C F Tunnicliffe from 'The Country Child'.