Story Time at Christmas? Yeah, right

Which is to say, I haven’t had time to crack open a book, which is a crying shame, cuz I’ve got one fabulous one I’ve barely started and two Christmas stories just begging to be read. So I’ll chat about them, but I’m warning ya–I don’t have much to say. =)

Right now I’m reading The Glassblower by Laurie Alice Eakes. I have been looking forward to this book for a long time, ever since Laurie Alice announced to our historical group that she’d sold it to Heartsong. It isn’t available on Amazon etc. yet, but can be ordered from Heartsong and through the bookclub. The Glassblower is about Meg, a young woman who dreams of opening a school in her New Jersey town so that other children aren’t forced away from home for education as she had been. Enter the charming Scotsman Colin, master glassblower, who just got a job at her father’s glass making family. Right away something sizzles between them, but Meg knows nothing can ever come of it. Her father would never permit her to keep company with a mere laborer–instead, he has another suitor in mind for her.

This is a short gulp of a book, and I’ve read titles from Laurie Alice before, so I know it’ll be beautifully written and will speed by once I have an hour to dedicate to it. I’ll do that tonight so that I can debate between the two Christmas titles from Summerside’s Love Finds You line that just showed up.

First to arrive was Loree Lough’s Love Finds You in North Pole, Alaska. Can’t wait to read this largely because I’ve been chatting with Loree for the last few months, and she’s such a wonderful lady that I just know I’m going to fall in love with this book. (Not to mention that the back cover sounded fabulous;-) It’s all about an ex-Marine, self-dubbed Scrooge who’s none to happy to be going home to the town where “It’s Christmas All Year Long.” Especially when he keeps butting heads with Sam, the stubborn manager of his aunt’s shop.

A day later came Love Finds You in Bethlehem, New Hampshire by Lauralee Bliss. This one’s a historical about an artist who orders a mail-order bride . . . but is expecting someone a little more refined than the penniless Sara. As Christmas transforms the tiny town, will the lessons of the season change his heart?

So, there you have it. Three great reads I haven’t had time to read yet. =) Maybe you’ll have better luck than me this holiday season, I say as I teach my daughter how to use her new ZhuZhu Pet . . .

Modern . . . Title–Chosen!

Well, it was another successful title contest last week. Though only three of you left ideas, they were so great that it got my juices flowing. I had planned on selecting some finalists and voting, but I instead came up with one I really like, so I’m going to divide the spoils among you three lovely contributors.

So, here’s what it comes down to. Given that it’s a romantic suspense, I need something strong and punchy. Something to capture the black market aspects as well as how the hero steals the heroine’s heart–and trust–with the first glance. So here’s what I came up with: (drumroll please . . .)

Seized

Apparently titling experts are big fans of single-word titles, so I’m really pleased with this. When I was reading through Sandi’s suggestions and got to the ones with “seized” in it, it just jumped out at me.

I also had a great time writing said book this weekend, after getting to know my hero a little better. And discovered it’s really cool to sit around the living room with my laptop while my hubby rereads Stray Drop and the kids frolic under the Christmas tree. Felt so cozy! =)

Hope everyone has a fabulous Christmas week!

Thoughtful About . . . Who I Am

I had the pleasure of spending last weekend with some of my dearest friends. It’s kind of funny. When I’m with both of them at the same time, it inevitably makes me think about who I am as compared to who they are. For all the things we have in common, there are so many things in which we’re different too. These are two young women I admire so very much, and sometimes it’s easy to focus on the things they do that I just can’t.

Last weekend, I wrote something that was a result of those thoughts, exhaustion, and a headache, lol. Not my usual chipper stuff, but there are some great lines in it. 😉

I’m Not That Woman

I have all these ideals in my head. I would love to be the woman who makes every single dish absolutely from scratch–no box mixes, no store-bought canned goods, no pre-packaged frozen dishes.

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to sew things myself, make toys for my children with my own hands, and fashion my house with tender skill and precision.

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to be the woman so proactive that she takes command of her own well-being, of her pregnancies, of her children’s health and stands up to the system when the system is set on following a pre-determined course that doesn’t allow for individuality. Who educates herself on every facet of her world.

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to be so focused on my children that I have their schooling all planned out, that I know already what the goals would be, that I could use my time toward their education. I wish I sat down with them every day and focused totally on them, on their growth, on their learning.

But I’m not even that woman.

I would love to exist in a world where I didn’t need a watch or a clock but could just eat when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired, rise when I am refreshed, and work when inspiration struck.

But that’s not my world.

I love being a writer, a wife, a mommy. Sometimes it just feels like I can’t be everything well. Sometimes it feels more like I’m defined by what I’m not.

I’m not a cook. I’m not green. I’m not crafty. I’m not a clothes-maker or a toy-maker. I’m not a teacher. I’m not a world unto myself. I’m just a woman with a dream and a family trying to make the two work together. I’m a woman with not enough hours in the day and even fewer in the night. I’m a woman in a world of squeals and tugs and TV–and of laughs and kisses and hugs.

I’m a woman torn, but a woman who can see the beauty in the pieces. A woman who sees that there are holes and recognizes that they’re just part of the filigree of God’s craftsmanship.

I’m a woman who isn’t.

But I’m a woman who is.

~*~

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win Stray Drop at Stephanie’s blog!

Remember When . . . The Trip Took Years?

First, check out my interview at Stephanie Morrill’s blog today! Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Stray Drop!

~*~

The Christmas pageants totally confused me when I was a kid. I mean, if the Wise Men entered from the back of the room right after the angels sang the Hallelujah Chorus and the shepherds elbowed each other out of the way so they could get to the manger . . . then why did Herod take out his wrath on toddlers? It took me a while to figure out that it took a while for those mystical magi to make their way from wherever-they-came-from to Israel.

There’s so much rich history surrounding this story, though! One of my favorites is an Italian tradition. They tell the story of the Befana, and it’s one that really stuck with me after I first heard it.

According to lore, during their two-year trek the magi stopped off at a house for food and rest. The resident was an old woman who, instead of taking them in, shunned them and went so far as to chase them away with her broom.

We all know that the magi made their way to Israel in spite of this setback, but that’s not where the Befana‘s story ends. For many years, she lived her life without concern for these strangers. But then later in life, she heard the message of the Christ and realized that those foreigners she had chased off were messengers of the Lord Himself. Stricken with grief, she repented of her hard heart and took that offending broom with her to go proclaim the salvation message, flying around the world with the Gospel.

It’s an interesting twist on the image our society has of a broomstick-flying witch–this one repentant and a missionary. In Italy, they celebrate the Befana on the Epiphany (January 6); in each village, someone dresses up as the character and goes around giving candy to the children.

I think it’s a great way to remember that what we consider “the Christmas story” is in actuality a miracle that spanned years. I’m going to be chatting more about the magi on the Epiphany, since it falls on a Wednesday, so don’t forget to come back!

Story Time . . . THE SHOE BOX by Francine Rivers

Story Time . . . THE SHOE BOX by Francine Rivers

*Don’t forget the title contest in Monday’s post! Suggest a title for my story, and if yours is chosen, you win books!*

Okay, so another kid’s book. When I was in the Library with my girl last week and browsing the Christmas books, I just couldn’t resist when I saw one by Francine Rivers, who is undeniably one of my favorite authors. The Shoe Box came home with us that night, and while I wanted to read it straight away, I restrained myself until Xoe requested it. =)

The Shoe Box is about a little boy named Timmy who is put into foster care because his dad’s in prison and his mom has to work so much that she isn’t there to take care of him, and the neighbors turn her in. Timmy goes to live with a kind, loving couple who open their hearts to him and his mother.

With him Timmy carries an old shoe box with the words “Running Shoes” printed on the side. Everyone asks him what’s in it, but he only ever answers, “Things.” Though it makes everyone curious, no one pushes. He takes this box with him everywhere he goes, until the Christmas pageant. He’s playing one of the wise men, and instead of his bejeweled box, he takes his shoe box up to give it to Jesus.

I did some serious tearing up while I read this, though I made an effort not to cry outright, given that I was reading it to my daughter, LOL, and she doesn’t really understand “touched” tears yet. But this story was so sweet, so symbolic, so very beautiful–not surprising from Francine Rivers. The pictures are gorgeous too, making it a perfect book to sit down and read to the family.

I love telling my kids stories that show the true meaning of Christmas, the spirit of it, the history of it, and which have spiritual significance. The Shoe Box does all of these things in a format sure to delight the parent as well as the child. Just keep your tissues handy! If it can make me cry, the rest of y’all are doomed. 😉