Today’s snippet is from “Heart of Coal,” a Christmas tale that will be on my short fiction bookstore next month.
They sent me to Wrapping, where I proved that I had failed art honestly. Bakery? Airborne flour makes me sneeze. The second time you snot a hundred-pound batch of sugar cookie dough, the head pastry chef gives you the boot. A kind boot, with love and support and a sincere hope for your magnificent future, plus an amazing thick-frosted cinnamon roll, but: the boot.
Logistics, Mechanical, Housekeeping. Fail fail fail. Everywhere I went I tried to fit in, to contribute, but—look, I was the only one in the whole damned place who knew how to swear.
As far as the reindeer groom gig went, I did not throw that first turd. Sugarplum is a lying bastard.
My parents didn’t name me Sack thinking I’d get fired from every role in the Workshop. But it was convenient.
I have another new Christmas short tale at tiltedwindmillpress.com right now, and a story in WMG’s Holiday Spectacular that you can still subscribe to–a story every day, Thanksgiving to New Years’.
It’s a great year for MWL Christmas tales. Which is a good thing, if orders to LOVE CANNED CRANBERRY SAUCE are not your thing.