Advent Calendar: December 15th

Your favourite authors open up about their Christmases past – and the memorable presents they’ve received. Just when you thought it was safe to go under that tree . . .

‘The worst Christmas present ever discovered under the Dawson family tree wasn’t actually destined for me, but for one of my brothers, who, aged eight, was given a beard, nose and ear trimmer by my elderly grandfather, which was pretty rubbish. My best present to date was the new laptop my fiancé got me last year, which has made my life so much easier. I know it was a one off and it’s also not about how much you’ve spent on each other . . . But I did feel a bit of a git when I opened that and he then unwrapped his new jumper . . .’ Lucy Dawson, author of His Other Lover

‘Strangely, my best and my worst Christmas presents are the same. Let me explain. My mother suffered a stroke in her later years which wiped her memory and left her very inarticulate. So when at Christmas she presented me with a copy of my favourite book Jane Eyre and inscribed it to “My precious daughter”, I was touched and surprised that she had clung to that tiny scrap of memory – despite the fact I already possessed a copy. The next Christmas when she presented me with another copy of Jane Eyre inscribed to “My precious daughter”, I wanted to cry. This continued for another two Christmases until her death. Now when I look up at those four “precious” copies of the book side by side on my shelf, I smile and I mourn at the same time.’ Kate Furnivall, author of Under a Blood Red Sky

‘The oddest present that immediately springs to mind was when my mother, who ran an antique stall, picked up one of my own necklaces, thinking it came from her stock, and wrapped it up for my stocking. And there was the miniature china lavatory (desk sized and perfectly to scale – though unfortunately too big for a dolls’ house) sent to me by a sanitary ware manufacturer one Christmas, which I kept on top of my desk for ages to remind me that life was never meant to be glamorous.’ Nina Bell, author of The Inheritance

‘The worst Christmas present I’ve ever received? My children regularly give me whatever they want themselves. I’ve had X-Box games, rugby balls, fleeces that magically disappear into teenage bedrooms on Boxing Day, you name it . . . I’m not actually a fan of Christmas. I’m someone whose soul responds to sunshine, warmth, a bottle of cold white wine and a table overlooking the sea . . . For me, Christmas is just a way of passing the time until a decent season comes around at last. That said, when I was writing The Food of Love my wife and I went back to Rome to do some research, late in December. Piazza Navona, a beautiful oval piazza that was once a Roman chariot-racing track, contains a rather sweet market of children’s toys. I remember stopping for some roast chestnuts, and discovering that the same stall also sold bruschetta – a simple piece of toast, roasted over a mixture of hot coals and hot chestnuts, rubbed with a piece of garlic, then dribbled with a generous, laser-green glug of freshly-harvested olive oil. At that time of year the oil is so peppery, and so olive-tasting, it catches in the back of your throat. And then, a little further on, there was a lorry selling porchetta – sandwiches made with roast suckling pig rolled in thyme and myrtle and bits of the pig’s own fried organs. The meat was so tender it was almost creamy . . . ah, joy.’ Anthony Capella, author of The Various Flavours of Coffee

‘The worst present was a CD single by Craig from Big Brother. I didn’t even open it. I felt crushed that someone thought it would suit me! My favourite Christmas memory is my daughter’s first one. It was lovely – I think most people find that when you have children it reinvents it and suddenly you love all the traditions again. Before that it had become a booze-fest, with people dancing wildly – by 5 p.m. there was always someone who’d sprained an ankle.’ Louise Candlish, author of The Second Husband

‘The worst present I’ve ever received was the year my husband did cute present-filled stockings for his parents and left my present in London. When we got back it turned out to be a phone for the house, unwrapped. My favourite memory is making mince pies with my children last year and putting one out for Father Christmas. He likes it with a nice glass of Sancerre.’ Anna Blundy, author of My Favourite Poison

Posted 15/12/2008 08:20:01 by The Little, Brown Santa with 2 comments.