Splashy is a book I wrote for adults, though it looks like a children's book. It's not really an anti-Christmas book, but it's for people who are somewhat bewildered by the forced cheerfulness of the season.

Poor Splashy is born to a happy elf couple who live at the North Pole, but he isn't really cut out to be one of Santa's helpers.

He tries to get into the spirit of things, but the toys he makes - bedpans and bags of wood-shavings - really go over badly with the rest of the elves.

One Christmas Eve Santa decides to take Splashy along with him, in order to teach him the true meaning of Christmas. Splashy tries like the devil to cheer up, and flash a smile; but he remains chronically depressed, and so Santa tosses him out of the sleigh over Zurich.

Since I never actually learned how to draw properly, I always felt the pictures of the German Expressionist Splashy turned out to be far less alarming than the completely deranged-looking figures of Santa and the other elves . . . though I must say I think it works as is.