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.
I grew up in the province of Alberta, directly north of Montana. Where I lived wasn’t the tundra by any stretch. But at the winter solstice, we got only seven and a half hours of daylight, from a quarter to nine to a quarter after four. We would have weeks of sub-zero (Fahrenheit) temperatures. (Still do – it’s invariably freezing whenever I go back for Christmas.) With a climate like that, you really need a midwinter festival of lights.
Yet I also loved winter. The firm crunch of snow under your boots, or the squeak if it was cold enough. The blue shadows and diamond glitter of new snow. The deep, deep blue of the sky – the coldest days were usually sunny. The thick white frost on the trees, a stunning lattice against the blue. The vibrant colours of the Northern Lights. The crisp, clean air.
It was enough to lead a kid to make believe she lived in the Arctic…which I often did. With my siblings, I built snow forts, made toboggan trails, cross-country skied, and skated, all with a running commentary or story in my head, as usual. My imagination was influenced as much by Arthur Ransome’s children’s novel Winter Holiday (in which British children have adventures while playing at being Arctic explorers) as by anything more authentic, but I’d never trade those flights of fancy.
Where I live now, winter is warmer, but much more damp and grey. Snow turns to giant pools of icy slush that make navigating the sidewalks and crosswalks an exercise in agility. The sky is grey for days on end, and the wind goes right through you. The only saving grace of the season is that it’s shorter here, making way for a glorious autumn.
My story in our new anthology, “The Long Night,” is part a love story to the winters I remember, part an exploration of a rich mythology that isn’t often seen in fiction, part imaginings based on my games of childhood make-believe, and part an exploration of the darkness of winter. I hope you’ll check it out.
If you read the anthology, we’d love it if you left a review on Amazon or Goodreads or wherever. It doesn’t even have to be a good review, just an honest one! All feedback is welcome, and we’d be very grateful.