As I write, it’s the day after a pretty good Christmas. Among the scraps of ribbon, the bits of confetti, the sounds of new toys (and the feline enjoyment of the first two and the boxes the third came in), my eye is inexorably drawn to the next holiday. My eye is also drawn to the remnants scattered across the lovely tray of cookies I received, but we’ll ignore that. As hard as we can.
I’ve had some pretty crappy things happen in the past few months, things that have tested my strength and the strength of my marriage. However, I have much to be grateful for. I have an amazing family. Not only are they generous and wonderful, but they’ve all helped my husband and I when we needed it, especially during this time. They gave us things they didn’t have to give. They’ve tried to keep our spirits up. My in-laws even dropped everything and came over just to talk. To give us love and support, something we really needed. In the wake of what happened (and I’m intentionally being vague for privacy reasons), I was very, very angry. Mostly at the other people involved, at our circumstances, and at myself. While it wasn’t my fault or my husband’s, I felt responsible for our financial well-being and got down on myself for not making enough money to carry us. Typical me, though. I’ve always had the highest expectations of myself.
I wish I had a lovely tale like Siri does about the background of my story, Frozen, for the Winter’s Night anthology. One that invokes childhood memories and beliefs. But I don’t, because, unfortunately, my brain works in a much more convoluted way and I long ago learned to let it do as it will.
To celebrate the release of our new anthology, Winter’s Night, I’d like to share the inspiration behind the short story I’ve included in the anthology. I’ve always loved Christmas – the lights and the glitter, the sense of mystery, the traditions, the celebration at the coldest and darkest time of year. And this from a northern Canadian. But for our winter anthology, I decided instead to write about Inuit mythology.