The Sneak-a-Peek Fever (My True Christmas Story)

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978-1-4349-9297-0

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The Sneak-a-Peek Fever (My True Christmas Story)
by Terry Shoemaker

How do I tell the story of ten years worth of Christmases? First, although this one is a true story or, more correctly, a series of stories, I'd like to assure you, you've neither read nor heard the likes of it before. As you read, you'll not only learn of my childhood Christmas antics, you'll also learn a few things, which range from the weakness of vacuum tube electronics to some real after-dark monsters.

My story spans ten years of Christmases with a few tall tales included. There's a bit of true Halloween-like story telling, with a sprinkling of Thanksgiving's wonderful foods to enhance the flavor. I begin with my first (and barely remembered) Christmas at age four, and end with my last child-like Christmas at age thirteen.

If you tend to experience a tad too much bad luck, if you enjoy non-violent action stories, or if a touch of humor sparks in you a smile or perhaps even a snicker, I believe you'll enjoy my true Christmas story.

About the Author

I suppose if I had a flair for self-promotion, I'd be president of something. But, I don't and I'm not. I have done a lot of things throughout my sixty-five years. I've been a soldier, a welder, a mechanic, a semi-skilled carpenter, a low-skilled skilled truck driver, a radar repairman, a maintenance electrician, and even an electrical trades instructor. Not once prior to turning sixty would I have ever even considered writing a book.

Remember that popular tool guy we all loved on TV? Well, I had a super-strong desire for super-powerful tools way before anyone had ever heard of him. It's a fact. Had my interest in spelling and vocabulary matched my lust for knowledge of very powerful power tools and how stuff works, I may have become a well-known author before turning thirteen.

From the day of my birth, it took exactly sixty years--to the day--before I felt an unexpected nudge telling me to become an author. Late in the evening on my sixtieth birthday, I was sitting alone wondering what in the world was I good for. I had just been hit by a drunk driver. The accident eventually cost my job. Due to too many back surgeries, my employer forced me to retire well before I had any desire to do so. As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, I began thinking of my childhood.

I remembered doing some pretty stupid, reckless stuff during the Christmas season. Remembering some of those things made me smile and even snicker. Then I began wondering, had I been among the rich and famous, wouldn't one or two of my Christmas memories have made great Christmas movie?

(2009, paperback, 108 pages)