An interview with Santa Claus…
[I needed to deliver a message to Santa Claus recently. I finally found him on an undisclosed and clothes-optional Caribbean island with the help of Rudolph, who has a big mouth as well as that well-known drunkard’s nose. Santa hadn’t told his elves where he was going and didn’t take his iPhone 4S. He had wi-fi in his beach hut, though, so I talked to him via Skype.]
Steve: Santa, I wanted to tell you I finally finished editing that trilogy and it will be released soon. You can put it on Christmas lists.
Santa: It’s about time. I hope it’s not like those Fifty Shades books. [Pops his speedo as if to cool his privates.] I gave the first one to Mrs. Claus. Her list of toys she wants for Christmas is now ten pages long. I hope that’s not going to be the norm this next Christmas!
Steve: No, my trilogy has a bit more meat in it—or less, depending on your point of view. You read the previous two novels, right?
Santa: Sure did. All on my Kindle with its two shades of gray. Survivors of the Chaos starts out very dystopian and ends with hope. I liked that. Sing a Samba Galactica was a lot of fun, but I sure wouldn’t want to be Santa for the Swarm.
Steve: You remember Singer saved Swarm, right?
Santa: Sure do. That was a nice touch. Singer and Swarm make me feel young, by the way. I’m just over 20.
Steve: 20 what?
Santa: Centuries, of course.
Steve: Well, anyway, Come Dance a Cumbia…with Stars in Your Hand! continues the saga by showing that we must always be vigilant against those whose thirst for power becomes an obsession.
Santa: Aha. So you come full circle around to someone like that Kalinin fellow in The Midas Bomb. Interesting. Not just more dystopian nonsense, then?
Steve: Nope. It’s a true thriller, just set far in the future.
Santa: You’re not auditioning for a place on Dancing with the Stars, are you?
Steve: Not really. The samba I refer to is the Argentine folk song, not the Brazilian dance. The cumbia is a dance, but I don’t know if pros are very familiar with it. I’ve never seen it on Dancing with the Stars.
Santa: I certainly don’t know it. I can fly up a chimney with ease, but the missus knows I’m a klutz on the dance floor. Those heavy boots don’t help. [The shaking belly routine ensues. I wait patiently for the laughter to subside.] Do the good guys win?
Steve: You’ll have to read it. And that’s what I want to talk to you about. You’re getting old.
Santa: Don’t I know. Too many women want that other trilogy. And the missus is championing their cause. All those books! With all that weight, I’ll finish Christmas looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Steve: Well, it is available as an eBook. And that’s my point. You can just have people use gift cards for eBooks. That way you can dedicate the space in your bag to toys for tots.
Santa: Hmm. Maybe I’ll even give them YA eBooks. The little brats don’t read enough now that Rowling’s Potter kid grew up, got married, and became passé. [Pops his red speedo again.] Now I have to go find the missus. I think she went to that topless beach. I heard those French paparazzi are lurking around there with their telephoto lenses, not that we’re royalty or anything. What’s this world coming to? Over and out…and keep writing the good stuff!
In libris libertas….
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