Post-Santa Edge

Hi, all.

Hope you had a lovely and happy Christmas holiday! (Or a happy celebration of whatever you celebrate!)

I just posted over on my author website about an article a writer-friend just had published in Salon.com, called "I was bad Santa." Check it out when you get a chance.

Parental Guidance suggested.

Living the Creative Life

A while back, my new friend, the author Ann Hite (Ghost on Black Mountain) asked me to write a guest post for her blog, “Living the Creative Life.”

Ann is fabulous, and her blog is all about creativity–so, of course, I was thrilled to take part. My post is up now and will run through New Year’s. Check it out here.

http://livingcreativelife.wordpress.com/2012/12/23/katherine-scott-crawford-on-creativity/

I may or may not have a chance to write again here before Christmas. If not, I hope that you all have a holiday filled with happiness, peace, and Light.



Merry, Merry and Happy, Happy all around!

A Christmas Wish

Recently my publisher asked me to write a guest post for their blog. It’s up today, and it’s called “A Christmas Wish.” I’m reposting here for those interested.

This was a tough blog post to write. I’ve known for a while that the deadline was coming up, but honestly, had the worst time writing it. After the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I have felt like nothing I say holds significance. How, I asked myself, can I write about Christmas, when my heart feels like a leaden balloon in my chest? The pain that those parents and loved ones are suffering–and will continue to suffer–is unimaginable. I’ve thought of not much else these past days but fervent hope for their peace and ease.

My friend, the writer Kimberly Brock, and I talked about this. She, too, was asked to do a guest post earlier this week. Both of us had an admittably hard time writing. Hers is here; I think she does a great job addressing the mystery that surrounds this time of year.

But if there’s a time of year meant for hope, a time meant for magic and for the promise of Light, it’s this season.

So here’s my post. It’s nothing special, just childhood memories and a wish. I hope you enjoy it.

 

A Christmas Wish


Christmas magic.

It’s something—a feeling, a spirit, a hope—that I’ve searched for, and inevitably found, every December since I was a child.

When I was very young, my parents made the magic. They filled our house with Christmas cheer: Johnny Mathis, John Denver and Bing Crosby on the record player and then the stereo; a house festooned with garland, candles and poinsettias; the everyday china exchanged for plates and mugs and bowls of Cuthbertson Christmas china; the lighting of the Advent calendar; the mistletoe hanging from the light fixture in the foyer; and the enormous Virginia pine Christmas tree. Today, that tree is a Fraser Fir, but it’s still brilliantly lit with bubble lights and adorned with mine and my sister’s hand-made ornaments, along with a precious few that have been in my father’s family since the turn of the century. It stands next to an enormous real-wood fireplace, red, crocheted stockings hung at the fat wooden mantel, just waiting for Santa Claus. To this day, my sister’s and my stockings are stretched inches longer than any of the others from years of being stuffed to the brim with goodies.

On Christmas Eve we’d head to church for the United Methodist celebration of the Moravian Love Feast. We’d sing Christmas carols, convene with friends, and hold our candles aloft as the entire sanctuary sang “Silent Night.” I loved standing on the pew bench with my family, holding my candle high and watching the glow on the faces around me. After, we’d head home for Christmas Eve supper with my aunt’s family and our best family friends: a tradition we still keep to this day. That very night, Santa would call the house, and all the kids would line up to hear just where his sleigh was at that very moment (usually over the Atlantic Ocean, Rudolph lighting the way through the fog).

Sheer magic.

Now, as an adult with a writing and teaching career, a family (including a husband, a dog, a three year-old daughter and a baby on the way), it takes a concerted effort to create that Christmas magic. I have to look for it—to make it happen, because I want my daughter to grow up as I was so lucky to: feeling that every day of December holds promise and magic.

I want her to be able—as I did as a child, a teenager, and still do—to stand outside in the dark of a cold Christmas Eve, and to look up at that mysterious sky with wonder and hope. I want her to feel in her bones a peace like no other. That is my most fervent Christmas wish, this year of all years. I wish it for all of us—for the community of Newtown, Connecticut, for all the world, for my family and for yours.

Tonight and every night, may we sleep in heavenly peace.

A Prayer for Newtown

Writers are often called upon to be the mouthpieces, and the memory-holders, of a nation. We're looked upon to say the things that others think but cannot express in the ways they'd like. As these days have passed since the horrific tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I find that I lack the vocabulary for such a loss. Words simply fail me.

I, and my entire family, wing out our thoughts and prayers to the community of Newtown, Connecticut. Our prayers join the millions, of that I am sure. May the air grow heavy with these prayers; may it thrum with the wings of angels. And may God help us all.


* The United Way of Western Connecticut has set up the Sandy Hook School Support Fund to aid those families affected by the shooting. To help, go to https://newtown.uwwesternct.org/.

FREE Books for Christmas

Author Genevieve Graham

Historical author Genevieve Graham (Under the Same Sky and Sound of the Heart) is running a book giveaway on her blog all month long called FREE Books for Christmas.

Today, she’s offering a free copy of Keowee Valley to a lucky winner!

I met Genevieve when she requested a copy of my novel to review for the blog “Romantic Historical Fiction Lovers.” And I was surprised to find that her novels, which I love, are also partially set in the Keowee River Valley!

Check it out: http://www.genevievegraham.com/3/post/2012/12/dec-12-books-for-christmas-with-katherine-scott-crawford.html. There are so many good books to be had!

Author Ann Hite on Blog Talk Radio

Check out this fantastic interview on Blog Talk Radio with Ann Hite, the author of Ghost on Black Mountain.

I’d heard all about Ann’s book before I met her recently at the Dahlonega Literary Festival. Ghost on Black Mountain is set in nearby Black Mountain, North Carolina, and involves family, mystery, murder, ghosts and memory all at once, so of course I was intrigued—but meeting Ann was the icing on the cake. She’s friendly, funny, smart and generous. And her writing keeps me up at night… in a good way.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/aww1/2012/11/29/ann-hite-author-of-ghost-on-black-mountain

Joining the 21st Century ... via Cell Phone?

I have officially joined the 21st century, courtesy of my husband.

I, bemoaner of change, abhorer of text messaging and sitting at breakfast-lunch-supper with loved ones unable to separate from their phones, am now the proud (cough) owner of an iPhone4.

This is it. It’s pretty. I’m not sure what it does.

According to my husband, this little gadget will open up a world of possibilities for me. I can apparently check my email on it, respond to text messages, guage the weather, and share photos.

Oh, you’ve already heard of it? Interesting….

Really, it’s my husband’s dastardly plan to get me to actually answer the phone.

Here’s my old phone. I had it for 7 years. Apparently, you’re supposed to update these things.

But I cannot tell a lie: I’m not sad to see it go. It may surprise you (but not my family members or friends) to know that I am not a phone person. I didn’t buy one in the first place until 2002, when I started grad school and moved to the coast, and my father insisted I needed one for all the time I spent on the highway.

My phone, I tend to forget for days. It ends up in the glove compartment, the net pocket of the stroller, in the mini-pocket of my Camelback. Then people usually call my husband to find out whether I’m still alive. And when I finally find the thing, and charge it back into being, it’s usually loaded with messages. Oops.

So … texting. I’m going to try it. I think it’ll make me a better friend. At least one who keeps in touch.

But I’ll be gosh-darned if I’m writing in lowercase letters!