Le Blog

Do you ever watch Hallmark Christmas movies where everything is covered in a blanket of winter snow, all the children are happy, the small town radiates with fun and quirky characters, and the attractive, star-crossed couple find love in the end.

My husband loves these movies. He’s the most macho guy I’ve ever met, but he still devours these Hallmark Christmas movies for the pure and unabashed sentimentality they reliably deliver. They simply make him happy.

They have the opposite effect on me.  Comparison-itis? As a woman with no children, those movies always remind me of the void. The lovely couple? They don’t have crows-feet or arthritis like me. I know I’m not the only one who sometimes struggles at Christmas, though people rarely talk about it. The Christmas season makes us harken back to our youth when we remember the undiluted joy of Christmas morning and the delicious anticipation leading up to it. Most of us had no understanding about loneliness, terminal illness, the fear of poverty, or worries about a life not fully lived. As an adult, most of us have had to confront such issues, and that’s why some of us escape into a Hallmark movie.

For me, I’ve always liked a little sorrow in a Christmas story to balance out the unremitting happy images beamed at us from every glowing television set, social media page, or billboard.

Maybe that’s why I love The Gift of the Magi. It’s about normal, loving, and flawed people who love each other despite a life that would never look good on Instagram.  They are wise enough to know their blessings and celebrate what they have….even if a part of them wishes they had a snazzy watch or beauty to make others gape in admiration. They know what’s important….even if they sometimes long for more. And that’s okay!

I will always remember my first Thanksgiving as a married woman.  As a brand new stepmother, I was determined to make the holiday special for the step-kids, which I assumed meant The Turkey Dinner.  Now, I am not much of a cook, and had never done the whole turkey-dinner from scratch thing. I was working full-time and a part-time job, which meant I was less than thrilled to take my single day off work to spend it in the kitchen…..but I was up to the challenge.

Martha Stewart will never need to fear competition from Elizabeth Camden, but I was proud of that meal.  The turkey was fine, I made ALL the associated fixings from scratch, I was thrilled down to my toes at how well the gravy turned out, and the whole apartment smelled amazing.

The reaction of my family?  “We don’t really like turkey.”  It was a battle to get them to turn off the TV off (I ultimately settled for the mute button.)  As proof that men sometimes just don’t get it, my husband was the biggest offender of the group, fixing himself something from the fridge because of his indifference to turkey, then parking it in front of the football game while the rest of us were still eating.

That was seventeen years ago.  It was the first and last turkey dinner I’ve ever made.

The following Thanksgiving, I polled the family for their favorite meal.  BBQ came out on top.  Okay!  This is something I can do!   Aside from the meat, I buy everything else ready-made.  Bush’s Baked Beans, a vat of mashed potatoes from the local deli, frozen garlic bread that heats in the oven, and a couple of Marie Calendar pies.  It is a feast the entire family enjoys, and a tradition Bill and I look forward to every year. The kids are now both grown and live out of state with families of their own, so it’s just me and Bill, but we both love our barbequed-Thanksgiving.

Oh, and I’ve given up battling Thanksgiving Day football.  Sometimes, if you can’t beat ‘em, you’ve got to join them.

Sunday will be the 100^th anniversary of the end of World War I. In commemoration, I am sharing a photograph of my grandfather, who served in the war. In 1917 he was a nineteen-year old clerk in a Milwaukee bank. He and his brother John, both sons of German immigrants, volunteered in hope of getting a more favorable posting rather than waiting for the draft to catch up with them.

My grandfather got the lucky draw: he ended up serving as a typist in a North Carolina army training camp, but John went to France where he was badly gassed and sent back home. John recovered, but was never quite the same either physically or mentally. My grandfather looked after him for the rest of John’s sadly short life, considering it a small price to pay.

My own father was named after John, and I had the great privilege to know my grandfather quite well. He had a mind like a steep trap and shared countless fascinating details about life in the army camp, military politics, and life after the war. I learned so much from his insight into German-American immigrant culture and life in American cities as the industrial revolution got underway. I’ve ultimately funneled a lot of that insight into my novels, and I sometimes wonder what he would think if he knew how big a role he played in shaping my novels.

Some of my fellow authors have also posted stories about their family members who were involved in the war. You can read about them here: http://bethanyfiction.com/2018/11/08/ww1/

For those of you who love audiobooks, I am happy to announce that some of my older books are coming out in audio. First up is The Lady of Bolton Hill, which is available from Amazon, Audible, or iTunes. Its about two people who fell in love in adolescence, but never forgot one another. Now Daniel has become a mighty robber baron, but has lost his soul. Will Clara be able to help him find it again?

For those of you who fell in love with Bane in Against the Tide, you’ll definitely want to check out The Lady of Bolton Hill, as it features Bane as a young man. I got so many requests for Bane’s story my publisher finally gave me permission to go ahead and write his sequel in Against the Tide, but for those of you who’d like to read or listen to his backstory, check out The Lady of Bolton Hill!