I love holiday stories. It’s a wonderful way to get in the mood for whichever season is upon us: Christmas, Thanksgiving, Valentine’s Day, Halloween…I always load up my Kindle with bunches of stories for each holiday and/or season, and then read to my heart’s content. To me it always adds just a little something extra to the season.

Writing holiday stories is quite different. The writing tends to get done outside of the season. A couple of years ago I got it into my head that I wanted to write a story based on Kenny and Dolly’s “A Christmas to Remember”. Every Christmas when we broke out the decs and holiday CDs it was on my mind. But Christmas is a busy time, and I never got around to writing it. Come January one year, I decided I was just going to buckle down and do it, even though it was past the season. I figured if it got accepted, at least I could read my own story the following season. And that’s pretty much how it happened. A Christmas to Remember was published with The Wild Rose Press in November of 2011.

With a Christmas story being released in November, I had to break my personal rule of not thinking about anything Christmas until after Thanksgiving. After all, I had a book to promote. So I decided I would write a Thanksgiving story for the following year, so I could think about the proper holiday at the proper time. I wound up writing that one in January and February and submitting it. This one was a bit of a longer road, going through a series of rewrites before being offered a contract, but ultimately An Unexpected Blessing was released in November of 2012.

So now I had this whole kind of holiday theme going. I figured…why not a Halloween story? I started outlining one in December (I have no idea what made me think of Halloween in the middle of Christmas, but as a writer, you just go with it, right?), but with the busyness of the season, I didn’t get around to doing any writing until well after Christmas. I looked at the deadline at TWRP for Halloween stories: January 28. Whew. That would be quite the feat if I could pull it off. I wasn’t planning a long story…just a short novella about 10,000 words (approximately 50 pages). But still, writing, editing, and submitting in less than a month? On top of any ‘real life’ responsibilities…was I crazy? Probably.

But…I figured I’d go for it. What the heck? If it didn’t get done for this year, I’d have plenty of time to get something in shape for 2014.

Much to my pride and sense of accomplishment, I finished the story and submitted it a week ahead of time. Last Monday afternoon, I sent a query and synopsis to my editor. By the time I got back an hour later from running some errands, she had requested to see the full mss. Thursday I got an e-mail from her saying she loved the story and was putting in a request for a contract with the senior editor! Happy Dancing ensued. And my oh my the wheels turned fast on that one!

So if the senior editor approves the contract and there are no hiccups along the way, come fall, I’ll have added another holiday title to my published works, and the world (I can dream right?) will be reading The Vampire and the Vixen. (A tongue-in-cheek is-he-or-isn’t-he contemporary Halloween romance.)

Then I’ll have to see what holiday to do next…Valentine’s Day?! Fourth of July?! I’m sure something will pop into my head.

Until next time,

Happy Reading!

Debra
www.debrastjohnromance.com

As a child, I always thought that ‘fall’, the alternate name for autumn, was used because it referred to the fall of leaves from trees at this time of year. Turns out I was right. Referred to as ‘harvest’ through most of the Middle Ages, the months of September, October and November became known as the ‘fall of the leaf’ around the 16^th century. This differentiated it from summer, winter and the ‘spring of the leaf’ during March, April and May.

Fall, or autumn if you prefer, is a season of transition. For most of human history, it has been a time of gathering crops from field and garden, starting with haying in late summer and continuing through pumpkins and beans at the end of the season.

September means state fairs and football, as the green disappears from leaves and vivid foliage brightens each day. The Harvest Moon harks back to the days when farmers struggled to bring in crops without the help of modern equipment, and the Hunters Moon recalls the time when putting meat on the table required days and nights of tracking animals for food.

By November, the trees that were garbed in gold and scarlet a month before stand with their bare branches raised to gray skies as if in supplication. Small wonder that the Celtic holiday of Samhain was sometimes referred to as the gateway to winter!

Late October and early November were marked in the Middle Ages by Christian holy days, developed to encourage conversions by Celts. All Hallows Eve on October 31st replaces the Celtic belief that the veil between the lands of the living and the dead thinned enough to allow passage back and forth between them for one night. Still, plenty of little goblins and witches threaten us with ‘Trick or Treat!’ every year. Fortunately, Hubby and I keep plenty of chocolate on hand to ward off danger.

Many Christian sects hold services for All Saints’ Day on November 1^st, and All Souls Day on November 2^nd. Prayers for souls of saints and deceased loved ones are offered in special services on both days or on the nearest Sunday. The end of November marks the start of Advent, the beginning of the liturgical year in some churches.

The Mexican Dia de los Muertos is celebrated at this time as well. It is very much about the lives of the deceased, as their favorite foods and beverages are brought to graves and festively dressed skeletons adorn private altars in homes. The hope is that the souls of the departed will visit and see that they are still loved and remembered.

Whether you enjoy Halloween, Samhain, All Saints Day or the Dia de los Muertos – or all of them – the best lesson to take away from observing the ‘fall of the leaves’ is that the seasons follow a cycle of life, death and rebirth. The bare trees and brown grass are not dead, only dormant, as they sleep and gather strength for next year.

What does fall mean to you? Harvest? Preparation for Thanksgiving and Christmas? School days? The Great Pumpkin? We’d love to know!

Till next month,

Ann

Party Time

Halloween is my favorite holiday.  (Sorry Santa, The Great Pumpkin outranks you.) Usually I decorate with witches, black cats, pumpkins, and the Grimm Reaper.  But I didn’t have the energy to get everything out this year.  And then my oldest son decided he doesn’t want to dress up or go trick-or-treating.

We’ll see if he sticks to that line. I’m hopeful I can take him to the park where the town will have a special event on the afternoon of the 31st. Otherwise, I’m going to have to face the fact that he is getting older. *gasp*

I did get my oldest to read “The Headless Horseman” and “Rip Van Winkle”.  RVW was a part of his literature assignment but I threw the Headless Horseman in for fun.  He read it, although I’m not sure he found it as fun as I do. I can’t wait until I can introduce him to Poe.

What’s your favorite spooky story and do you only read it during October? Can you outgrow Halloween?

It’s that time of year again.  Glowing Jack-O-Lanterns spicing the air, tiny pirates, princesses, and devils demanding “trick or treat” in off-tune squeals, dancing ghosts and flying witches decorating the neighborhood.  Even Hubby wants to know when “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” special will be aired.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays.  Candy apples, popcorn balls, and candy corn.  (Is it just me, or does anyone else wonder why we can’t get candy corn all year long?)

I also love all the spooky stories and books.  My favorite is “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving.

Here’s a great excerpt:

An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken. He saw the walls of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond. He recollected the place where Brom Bones’s ghostly competitor had disappeared. “If I can but reach that bridge,” thought Ichabod, “I am safe.” Just then he heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied that he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash—he was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind. (Irving, The Harvard Classics, 1917, para. 68)

What about you?  Do you have a favorite “spooky” book you’d like to share?

**Remember to leave a comment for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate.**

~Tiffany

www.tiffanygreen.net

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Reference

The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction. (1917). The legend of sleepy hollow. Irving, Washington: Author. Retrieved from http://www.bartleby.com/310/2/2.html

Hi again! Thank you for joining me for my monthly post here at Authors By Moonlight.

I have tried to think of something “Autumn” to talk about and ran into a coupla problems. I know, what else is new, right? Be nice! It’s not my favorite season, but I like Fall well enough; relief from scorching heat as Patricia mentioned Wednesday, excitement of fall holidays leading to winter holidays. But Fall… Most people look forward to the food of the season. Not me, unless orange and brown candy corn and hot cider counts. I don’t like pumpkin food/drink of any kind and don’t understand the obsession food in general. I eat what is necessary to keep from starving to death and that’s about it. Lol Fall holidays? Not big on Halloween anymore, except for the candy. I don’t care for Thanksgiving at all. I do, however, look forward to Christmas!

But let’s go back a bit. When my three daughters were young Mitch and I embraced all holidays to the fullest extent. He got wood one year and we made painted yard decorations that lasted for years for Halloween and Christmas. Ghosts, RIP headstones, carolers with howling (singing) dog, who all stood around middle daughter’s pine tree in the front yard with lights and music, Santa climbing in the chimney as his sleigh and reindeer waited on the roof peak and a nativity our church borrowed for Christmas programs. All made with plywood, paint and love.

The second year, after making the decorations, they (hubs and girls) made a few additional items. One of those was a big black, hunched-back cat with shocking green eyes. For some reason youngest daughter’s dog hated that cat! When we pulled out decorations each year Dottie (I posted here in May of her passing) would growl and bark at the cat and run from it if we held it toward her. We never understood what it was about that cat she didn’t like. But if we turned it so she couldn’t see the black body or green eyes- it made no difference to her. She hated that cat. Funny since we had two live cats she liked, and though neither were black, my oldest daughter’s calico was mostly black. Still, it didn’t bother Dottie.

We don’t have any of those decorations any more, but they served our children, our family, church and neighbors, well for ten or more years. I loved those days, cherish the memories.

I miss those days. The girls are grown with their own families now and if it weren’t for fil and oldest granddaughter, of whom we have temporary legal guardianship of, living with Mitch and I, we would be empty nesters today- we’re both in the autumn of life now.

One daughter and her hubby took their two girls to Colorado this past June and writing this post  made me realize this is the first year, out of 28, that we’ll spend without all three of our girls with us. Without all four of the current grandbabies (number 5 is due to arrive in late January) laughing and playing in my house.

It will be different, but I have tried (as Peter Pan does) to look at life as the biggest adventure of all! That includes major family group alterations. I don’t have to like it- but I will accept it.

Call us pathetic, but oldest daughter called and we kept our phones on speaker for two hours as we watched the Presidential debates “together” from 900 miles apart last night.

What? I said I’ll accept, at no time did I say it would be with grace!

My question for those empty nesters out there is: How do you do it? I miss my kids so much when they aren’t within throwing distance. How do you survive when one or more of your babies moves so far away you only see them once or twice a year, if you’re fortunate?

Have you ever had a dream that HAD to become a book?

After reading Judith McNaught’s Whitney, My Love (Oh, my goodness!) I was hooked.  I knew then exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.  Dream up saucy little vixens who like to break the rules and brave heroes who fall in love with them.  And dream up a story is exactly what I did.  One night, I had a dream about some sexy-as-hell duke who found a ravishing beauty in one of his guest bedrooms.  When I woke, quite needing a very cold shower, the whole story slipped into place.  I knew all the characters, what they looked like, where they lived, even their favorite food.  And Innocence Lost was born.  Of course, just out of the third chapter of the book, other characters clamored for stories of their very own.  That’s how Innocence Lost became book one of a seven-book series.  I’m coping, though.  Being brave about having to fulfill my dream-come-true job.  From time to time, I dream about my characters and put the information I learn into my books.  Sometimes I find the most interesting details.  Megan hates peas.  Nicholas refuses to step foot in the music room at his estate, convinced it’s haunted.  Julian got horribly lost once at sea, too embarrassed to admit he’d read the map up-side-down.I love to dream about my characters.  This makes them seem so real to me.  I’ve even dreamed about characters written by someone else.  What about you?  Ever dream about characters in a book?  If so, do tell!

~Tiffany

Here are the winners of  my 3 Halloween goody bags for the days I posted during our Blog Blitz. They are:

10/26–Margaret Tanner

10/27–April R

10/31–Cathy M

Congratulations! Please email me privately at sherryjames@hamilton.net with your snail mail address so I know where to send your goodies.

Thanks again for joining us.

And keep an eye open. We’ll be doing more fun stuff in November.

Welcome to ABM’s final day of our week long Halloween Blog Blitz. We hope you’ve had a good time and will visit again, and again, and again!   If you’ve been following us this week, you know that I have goody bags to give away. I will announce all three of my winners on Monday, Nov. 1st, so be sure and check back.

To celebrate Halloween today I’m sharing a very short story I wrote a few years back for our local newspaper and their  Halloween scary story contest. It was a challenge to write a complete story in 250 words or less that actually made sense. But, I must have been successful because my story won first place in the adult category! I was thrilled. I’ve often considered developing this is into a novel, but  . . . so much to write, so little time! Enjoy.

Varick awoke from his slumber and exited the crypt in search of sustenance. The inky night cloaked him like a shroud.
“All Hallows Eve,” he whispered. He inhaled deeply even though he didn’t need to breathe. He relished the feel of the darkness and the smoldering scents of the earth encompassed in sleep. It was his time to live, to hunt. And to seek the revenge for all he’d lost this very eve so long ago.
Descending the cracked stones steps, he made his way through the neglected cemetery. Leaves littered the ground. Under a mortal man’s boot they would have crunched and swirled away by the breeze created in his passing, but there was no sound, no movement.
Varick was no mortal man.
He sensed a presence. A lone deer eyed him with curiosity and fear. The animals knew what he was. They knew he deserved to be revered. But the mortals of this world would never respect him. The founding fathers of Lone Tree had thought they’d destroyed him and they were nothing but fools to believe so. They’d been no match for his strength, his cunning. And for the past century he’d slept by choice, growing stronger with each decade while they withered and died of disease and old age.
Varick searched the shadows and spotted a young couple dressed in lavish costumes walking by the iron gates. The girl titled her head. He saw the expanse of her creamy neck, felt her racing pulse. He licked his lips in anticipation.
“Madeline, my love. Before the sun rises again, you shall be avenged.”

Okay, if you noticed, this story has no title. Can you help me name it? Give me your title suggestions and I’ll put your name in the witch’s hat to win a goody bag with e-book coupons, an Ellora’s Cave card deck, candy and stuff! Remember, I’m drawing all three winners tomorrow, Nov. 1st, so be sure and check for your name.

Halloween Story by Sherry James, Copyright 2000

The origin of Halloween is thought by many to have started with the Celts as a festival of the dead, when the border separating the living and the dead was blurred.  On the last day of October, the Celts believed spirits would visit homes.  So goes the legend of Halloween, but legends do often have a kernel of truth.  I am here to affirm some of that truth, as I lived in a house visited by spirits.  My childhood home was a typical three bedroom brick house in a quite little neighborhood.  It was a corner house with a tool shed in the back and a driveway that led up to a carport.  There were many fruit trees behind the house—fig, plum, and pear.  Nothing was very unusual about the appearance of the house.  But there were spirits within.

It all began very soon after we moved into the house when I was five years old.  My parents sometimes acted so odd, and it wasn’t until I was a little older that I found out why.  The spirits would do things to us kids like move pillows into the living room as we slept, hide our toys and jewelry in odd places like inside kitchen cabinets, and make strange noises at times, bees buzzing or footsteps.  But they would often torment my parents.  My poor mom would wake up in the middle of the night gagging on the smell of burned flesh.  There were other smells, like a pungent rose perfume in certain areas of the house that would come on suddenly.  One night, my sisters and I were at a friend’s birthday party and my parents were in the den watching television when they saw the shadow of a person walk across the room.  My dad investigated and found all the doors and windows locked.  No one was there.  Another time my dad was sitting before an easel painting a picture when he heard steps behind him, then he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.  He asked my mom what she thought of the picture.  When she didn’t respond, he glanced behind him.  But no one was there.

However, one of the spookiest things to have ever happened was after we lived in the house a few years.  My mom had taken us kids shopping and my dad stayed behind.  He’s a great guy who thought to surprise my mom with cleaning the house while we were gone.  So, he was completely alone in the house.  My little sister had a plastic doll.  It was a very old doll, about four feet high, and had arms and legs that would move at the shoulders and hips.  It also had the kind of eyes that would open and close.  Well, my sister left the doll in the living room on the sofa, sitting with her arms and legs out before her, and her head straight.  My dad got the vacuum out and started on the right side of the room.  After a minute, he got a funny feeling and glanced over his shoulder.  The doll had turned her head and was looking right at him.  At first, he thought maybe he had been mistaken about how the doll had been facing.  So, he moved the vacuum over to the left side of the room.  After taking a deep breath, he turned around.  The doll was looking right at him.  Again, she had turned her head to watch him.

We moved from the house after living there about six years.  From what our neighbors would tell us, people who moved into the house after us didn’t stick around for very long.  This had not been my family’s first encounter with spirits, however.  My paternal grandmother’s maiden name is Bell.  Her family is from Tennessee.  Where the Bell Witch resides.  Have any of you watched “An American Haunting” with Sissy Spacek and Donald Sutherland?  Then you know the story.  But that is for another time.   This link gives you an idea of what happened:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxcfXDBqpUQ

Do you have a story you want to share?  Know something interesting about Halloween?  I’d love to hear all about it.

~Tiffany

www.tiffanygreen.net

Like Linus and Lucy many of us visit the local pumpkin patch in search of the great pumpkin. We pick out the biggest and best one we can find to carve into a Halloween Jack-O’-Lantern that will add a spooky touch to our front doorstep, greeting the many trick-or-treaters about on Halloween night.

As with many holiday traditions, we take it for granted that they have always existed as we know them today. However, Halloween was not widely observed in America during the first two-hundred years of settlement because the holiday wasn’t particularly of English or Protestant origin. The Halloween we now celebrate is a blending of three traditions: the Celtic festival of the dead, the Roman harvest celebration of the goddess Pomona, and the customs of the early Catholic church.

It wasn’t until the Irish came to America during the 1840s, due to the great potato famine, that Halloween really began to gain in popularity. The Irish soon discovered the pumpkin growing in great abundance in America and because of the fruit’s round size and soft insides, it was ideal for carving.  The bright orange color also symbolized strength and endurance, making it the perfect choice for the Jack-O’-Lantern.

But the custom of carving Jack-O’-Lanterns goes back to earlier times when children from other countries carefully chose various vegetables for their Jack-O’-Lanterns. Scottish children picked and saved the biggest turnips from their harvests, hollowed them out, and placed a candle inside. Bogies, as they were called, were used to scare witches away.

Irish children used turnips as well, but also used potatoes. In England, children carried Punkies, a large beet known as mangel-wurzels. After hollowing the beet out, they carved a window in its side to allow the candle to shine through.

It’s the Irish, though, who claim to be the first to tell the story of how the Jack-O’-Lantern came about. It is said that on one Halloween a ne’er-do-well named Stingy Jack asked the Devil to share a drink with him. The Devil said yes, but only if Jack paid for the drink. Jack knew the Devil could change into any form he wished, so he asked the Devil to become a sixpence. Jack reasoned that after he paid for the drink with this sixpence, the Devil could change himself back and Jack would have paid nothing for the drink.

Agreeing, the Devil cast the spell and changed into the coin. But Jack was clever and tricked the Devil by placing the sixpence into the same pocket where he kept a gleaming silver cross. The Devil was trapped. Jack said he’d let the Devil go if he agreed to leave him alone for one year. The Devil promised and Jack set him free.

Jack tried to reform and become a better man by giving to the poor, going to church and no longer wasting his pay.  But it wasn’t long and Jack soon reverted to his stingy ways.

The next Halloween Jack met the Devil again, this time on a lonely road.  Convinced the Devil had come for his soul Jack managed to trick the Devil a second time.  He asked the Devil to climb a tree and pick a big, beautiful apple from a high branch.  As the Devil did so, Jack carved a cross in the trunk. Once again, the Devil was trapped.  Jack made another deal by asking the Devil to promise not to come for him for ten years. The Devil agreed, but before the year was over Jack died.

Because of his stingy ways Jack was turned away at the gates of heaven.  He then went to the gates of hell, but much to his surprise the Devil wouldn’t let him enter.  The Devil said because of his promise he couldn’t claim Jack’s soul and told the man to go away. Jack complained it was too dark and he couldn’t find his way, so the Devil threw him a glowing coal from hell for light.  Destined to walk the earth forever, Jack put the hot coal inside a turnip he was eating and made a lantern, thus the beginning of the Jack-O’-Lantern.

Other renditions of the origination of the Jack-O’-Lantern circulated during the 1800s and details of Stingy Jack’s trickery varied to accommodate a geographical location’s lifestyle.

Making up stories like the one about Stingy Jack not only became a common pastime, but was a means of explaining the unknown. Very little scientific information existed hundreds of years ago and people feared what they did not understand. When strange ghostly lights were seen flickering in the night above graves dug in marshy, swampy areas, they were of course feared and became known as Jack-O’-Lanterns, Corpse Candles, and Will-O’-the-Wisps. These lights were believed to be the souls of sinners like Stingy Jack who were doomed to walk the earth forever.

As the field of science developed people learned that in reality these phantasmal lights were really ignis fatuus, or foolish fire.  Foolish fire is a spontaneous, combustible gas made by rotting plant and animal material trapped in places where there is very little oxygen.  Marshes and cemeteries were ideal grounds for these flickering fires that scared the wits out of many, making them not only believe the story of Stingy Jack, but perhaps causing them to change their wicked ways.

The Jack-O’-Lantern is just one of many symbols of this ancient and colorful holiday we know as Halloween.  And in America, just as Linus and the gang, Halloween has truly become a treasure offering fun for all ages.

How about you? Do you have a favorite pumpkin carving story? Or have you heard of another version of the Jack O’ Lantern story? Or just have a fun Halloween memory to share? I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment and I’ll put your name in the witch’s hat for a second goody bag giveaway!