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Tuesday, December 20, 2011


"It's coming on Christmas..."

And we stand confused in the midst of the bustle, standing on a traffic island as live speeds into frenzy for a reason somehow suddenly ambiguous. Our most recent project, the first draft of the third novel in the series that starts with The Tiger and the Sparrow, has occupied these last few weeks with a similar energy, but private, and in all honesty, an antithesis for all that is profiled as correct living this time of year. 

At this stage of Jaye's life, still young enough to remember the glow of childhood excitement, of hanging ornaments, and opening nativity windows, but old enough to be entirely removed from it, there are new associations with Christmas. Long walks downtown with the holiday lights, ignoring insecure high school students....
...and Joni Mitchell. Jaye and I can't remember if the Joni Mitchell association came before or after we began enjoying frequent viewing of Love Actually, that lovely epoch film of Richard Curtis. The Writer thought perhaps the connection went as far back as the Meg Ryan dialogue in You've Got Mail. Probably at this point the explanation is not nearly as interesting as the association itself. Around the time people start spending money they don't have and belting out Christmas carols that no longer have anything to do with the Truth of the holiday, we begin to meditate in looking like this...
...and singing, "...they're cutting down trees, they're putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace. I wish I had a river I could skate away on...."

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