MRL Press released “The Advent Calendar,” which introduces Toby and Derek and their conflict about whether or not to have children, today. The story started this summer as part of a challenge by MRL Press editor Kris Jacen to “make mud sexy.” I’m still not sure how that screamed Christmas! to me, but it did. Or maybe it was just that Z.A. Maxfield had been badgering me to write a short story for a while. I prefer to write novels and was actually surprised the story came out as well as it did. Or maybe I shouldn’t say that…

Funny story: I actually got Kris’s attention with a synopsis for the story, but had only written maybe a quarter of it when she told me she wanted to see the entire story. Naturally, at the very moment I read that email on my phone, I was sitting at Apple’s Genius Bar while one of the genii pronounced last rites for my laptop’s logic board. So I bought a wireless keyboard and banged out the entire story on my iPad (my fingers are really too big to use the touch screen for any kind of serious typing).

And voila! The first draft of “The Advent Calendar” was born.

The excerpt below captures of the undercurrent of humor to what is otherwise a serious, even sober, story:

Up on the ladder, Derek cringed. He should?ve seen this coming. It happened whenever his nieces and nephews came by for an afternoon or an overnight. Toby enjoyed those times so much that he went through withdrawal when the kids left. Meanwhile, Derek usually had to lay down with a cold compress over his eyes to recover. But not Toby. He knew he had to head this off. ?Hand me that string of lights, will you? No, not those, the colored ones.?

Toby dutifully complied, handing them up to his husband, who proceeded to work over part of a tree. ?Remember the year we had the animatronic reindeer? Oh my God, was that ever hideous. Remember??

?Yeah, one fell over, as I recall.?

?Worse, the one that fell over developed some kind of tick in its circuitry and its hind legs kicked helplessly at the air like it?d been shot, like in a cartoon.?

Toby smiled at the recollection. ?You didn?t really help matters. You had to go and put up Santa aiming a shotgun at it.?

?Not just put up, Toby,? he said smugly, and really, it was some of his finest work. ?I had plywood cut and then painted it myself.?

?All the neighborhood kids screamed at the sight, at least the young ones did. We had angry parents banging on our door for weeks.?

?You have to look on the bright side, Toby. We didn?t have any carolers, either. Total peace and quiet the entire holiday season.?

?You?re absolutely incorrigible, you know that??

?And you should know by now that your mock disapproval only encourages me. I?m not satisfied with an eye roll anymore. No, it?s a facepalm or nothing for me. Otherwise I know I haven?t tried hard enough.?

?So in other words, you?re saying that debacle was my fault??

Derek held out a hand for more lights. ?You?re an enabler, Toby. Face it.? 

Anyway, there it is. I hope you like the story.

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