Christmas lights are so inspiring. Sometimes, I keep them up for half the year, the ones in my bedroom, anyways. It’s like what candy would be if it were visual delight. It’s tiny, fun, colorful…

But most of all, it makes sitting in the dark alright. Sometimes I just do not want the lights on, and I can’t be the only one. When Christmas lights are up though, it doesn’t seem melancholy. Part of it, of course, is the associations. Those little colored lights are a beckon of Christmas time itself, and sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet pensive time associated with something that’s so inherently social and familial. There is no denying it: Christmas is a major end-of-the-year energy suck (which is just what you need after NaNoWriMo…) I love it, but it’s hard to orchestrate Christmas parties and family celebrations. I know I need me-time to just sit and write in the dark while the window glows, framing the world outside in a rainbow of tiny lights.