I’m writing from the weekend before Christmas.

It’s wild out here at Layla’s Landing. My wife and I are coaching the kids’ basketball teams. Mal's got the third-grade girls, while I'm chasing the kindergarteners around (please, keep us in your hearts and prayers). 

On top of that, Christmas is just around the corner. 

In four short days, Santa will have come and gone, a visit that takes quite a bit of effort on our part to pull off. There’s a trampoline in a box in the garage. The box barely fits in my truck bed. Every time I walk past it, my fingers go numb. You see, when Christmas Eve arrives, I won’t be sipping eggnog by the fire; I’ll be in the backyard putting that ginormous trampoline together. 

To make matters worse, I’ve already driven to both edges of the state for family get-togethers, and there are still more to come. What I’m saying is, I’ve been busy. And for a writer, being busy isn’t good.

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It’s hard to get much creative work done during the holidays. There just isn’t enough time, and what little time I do have is often interrupted by thoughts of what’s to come. What gifts need wrapping? Who did we leave off the Christmas card list? 

Thankfully, I have help, and a lot of it. My wife is a machine. Johnny Wink calls her "The Elfin Bruiser," partly because of her looks and partly because she's a beast. 

I often joke that if anything were to ever happen to Mal, I’d have to hire at least seven people to fill all the different shoes (and pants) she wears in our family. An accountant. A house cleaner. A cook. A social media manager. A personal assistant. A lawn service (yes, Mal mows the yard). A therapist.

The one thing Mal doesn’t do is write the books. That’s my job, and during the holidays, the words just won’t come.

That doesn’t keep me from trying, though. I still wake up early every morning. I still brew the coffee and stumble down the stairs to my office. And there I sit, scribbling away on pages that will never be published.

Beyond the stresses and time commitments, this time of year just doesn’t feel conducive to creativity. At least not for me. In my mind, this is a season for reflection. This is the time when leaves wither and take their one wild fall from the branch.

But we're not leaves; we're people. We get to fall more than once. What a shame it'd be to take that trip without the people we love most.

When it comes down to it, that's what the holidays are all about: spending time with your family. Easier said than done. I know. Especially when the next book is yet to be written. But there will always be another book, another promotion, another deal.

And the time for those things to grow and flourish, to spring forth into life, is coming. Just not today.

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