Lisa Plumley | Christmas Confessions

To me, the holidays have always meant family and friends, togetherness and good cheer, peppermint mochas and gingerbread cookies. But increasingly, the Christmas season can also mean traffic and crowded stores, stress and anxiety, heartburn and credit-card bills. Now more than ever, we're feeling the pinch. Our wallets are lighter. Our worries are many. But our hearts are still full.

And that gives me hope.

At the risk of sounding like a character from a Hallmark Channel TV movie, I believe it's possible to have a fantastic time at Christmas...even without miles of blinking LED lights, candy canes, and a huge pile of gifts under the tree. Because those things are all extras. They're just accessories. They're optional. You don't really need decorations or gifts or goodies at all.

A freaky idea? Not really. Because what matters right now is being with the people you care about--and all the extraneous Christmas stuff can actually be a distraction from that.

Think about it. Have you ever plowed through the mall, searching for exactly the right gift for someone special, only to come home exhausted...and snap at that special someone? (Oops.) Have you ever gotten so obsessed with pulling off a Martha Stewart-worthy tree-trimming that you sneaked one of your less show-worthy (but sentimental) ornaments to a hidden location in the back? (Guilty.)

Have you ever dragged yourself to a "Black Friday" sale at 4 AM, stayed up past midnight to assemble a new bicycle or pretend you were Santa, slaved over a fancy holiday feast with all the trimmings...then fallen asleep with your face in a basket of dinner rolls because you were too tired to keep going? (Umm...yes, mm-hmmm, and whoops.)

I've done a few of those things and more. Believe me, I'm not proud of it. But, like the heroine of my new book, Home for the Holidays, I've learned my lessons and I've moved on. I've discovered that there's a way out of the Christmas insanity! For me, it starts with lowering my expectations. It continues with making myself do less instead of more. It ends with me doing my best to stay, Zenlike, in the moment as it happens. Because while we're busy creating the picture-perfect holiday, sometimes the real substance of Christmas slips right by us. And nobody feels jolly about that.

So this year I'm scaling back, ramping down, and taking a few deep breaths. I'm planning to savor this Christmas--even the chipped, flawed, and otherwise imperfect parts of it. (Hey, that's how you snag the broken cookies. Bonus!) I hope you'll join me! Please tell me how you deal with Christmas craziness--how you find the joy in the everyday moments, even when you're trying to track down the last quart of eggnog within fifty miles for your holiday party and being blasted with "Last Christmas" by Wham! for the 2,497th time. Let's share!

Lisa Plumley
http://www.lisaplumley.com/
lisaplumley.wordpress.com

Lisa Plumley | Isn't it funny?

I have a confession to make: Most of my friends don't read romances. For one reason or another, they simply...don't read romances. Period. Either they're worried about being judged by the racy covers, or they think all that romance stuff is "a fairy tale," or they prefer to read exclusively about serial killers, or they've tried one (just one!) romance--possibly a decade ago, or more--and have decided the whole genre just isn't for them.

That's okay with me. I mean, there are occasionally awkward moments between us, I'll admit that. Because I'm passionate about reading and writing romances! I think they're awesome. I like to celebrate the power of love, the thrill of attraction, and all the wonderful differences between men and women. At the same time, I'm a live-and-let-live kind of person. I don't think it's up to me to try to "convert" anyone to my favorite genre. I wouldn't like it if someone tried to force me to take up lawn bowling or sushi eating or PlayStation playing (it would be futile; I'm a Nintendo Wii gal). Our dissimilarities make us uniquely interesting, and the world would be a boring place if everyone liked the same things.

That said, two friends recently read copies of my books--contemporary romantic comedies that I wrote a few years ago. Afterward, the first friend seemed a little concerned. "I laughed! Is it okay that I laughed when I read your book?" Now, I get this reaction occasionally, and it puzzles me. There are tons of incredibly enjoyable funny books out there. Are people really missing them? Do they not realize that, with the right book in hand, reading can be hilarious? (Not just romances either--see P.G. Wodehouse, Terry Pratchett, or David Sedaris for examples.) The second friend also laughed...but then said, "And it was time well spent, reading your
book, just because I laughed so much."

You know what? That's the way I feel about reading romances. It *is* time well spent. After I've read a good book, the world feels like a better place. My faith in the positive qualities of human nature is reaffirmed. And if I'm lucky...I've done a little laughing too.

What about you? Are you the only romance reader among nonromance reading family and friends? Do you like to laugh when you're reading, or do you only crack a smile when Borat is involved? Let's chat!Lisa Plumley