‘Twas The Night Before Christmas: A Parody And Writer’s Dream

 ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house

Such excitement was stirring, perhaps just a mouse?
The queries were sent from my agent with care,
In hopes that a book contract soon would be there;
I struggled to stay all snug in my bed,
While visions of published books danced in my head.

With my husband asleep and myself on my knees,
I’d said my prayers and counted blessings with ease,
When on my smartphone there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the floor to see what was the matter.

Away to the nightstand, now light on my feet,
Unlocked my phone, not missing a beat,
The tweets, likes, and messages were overflowing,
An adrenaline rush had my cheeks fully glowing;

When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But thousands of followers, likes, and great cheer!
With a smart viral blog post, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment its message would stick.

It felt so surreal, it felt so enchanted,
It seemed almost as if the masses now chanted:
“Now! Twitter, now! Blogger, now! Tumbler and LinkedIn,
“On! Facebook! On! WordPress! On! Snapchat and Instagram;
“To the top of their feeds! To the top of my wall!
“Now hashtag it! hashtag it! hashtag it all!”

As avalanches of snowballs continue to roll,
When they meet with an obstacle, quicken its fall;
So roaring with passion, the story it flew,
With the posts full of fans—‌and publishers too:

And then in a twinkling, an email received;
The words of my agent, such joy I perceived.
Hastily written, yet beaming and warm,
He shared how the blog post had stirred up a storm.

My story of struggle, and having to cope,
Had struck a nerve, and helped people find hope;
The publisher had seen the public interest swell,
And had little doubt that my story would sell.

My eyes —‌how they twinkled! My mood, how merry,
My cheeks were like roses, yes, my nose like a cherry;
My droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And my ghost of a face was as white as the snow;

The golden ticket of all tickets in my hands I held tight,
The best thing to happen, after Christmas, tonight.

The publisher had agreed to take the chance,
Despite the lack of music, I just had to dance!
I was elated and bright, a right jolly writer,
And I laughed when I saw it – it couldn’t be brighter;

A glorious miracle of this news I’d read,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
I took in every word, and soaked in the expressions,
The present delivered, I shared with confessions,
I fill’d all the newsfeeds; then the message it spread,
And throwing my phone up, I jumped on the bed.

And giving a shriek, sleeping Hubby arose.
Raised from sugarplum dreams, heaven knows,
He sprung to his feet, to his wife gave a shout,
“Honey, calm down, what’s this noise all about?”
To which I replied, with a brazenly look —‌

“Happy Christmas to all, They’re publishing my book!”