This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Still Life, and of my more recent Christmas title, Eugene and the Box of Nails to a commenter at the end of the Holiday Tour. Just comment on my post what you remember most about the winter/not hot and dry season growing up.
Snow Days
This year we have had serious snow exactly twice.
The kids have had two snow days.
I’m not even talking a foot of snow and blizzard conditions. I’m just talking about a snowfall that left more than an inch of fluff on the ground. Lots of people will say a few inches is enough to shut their city down, but we live in Canada. I mean. Come on.
I remember wading in snow up to my waist to get to the bus stop, and the bus still came. I remember laughing our heads off as we dove off the side of the road as the snowplough went by. There were snow forts during the March break, because there had been enough snow over the season, we still had enough to BUILD FORTS. In MARCH.
I remember moving back up to my home town after a few years living farther south, and it snowed on November 9, my eldest child’s first snowfall, and I thought—oh yes. I remember this.
And now our schools don’t bother with school because it snowed last night.
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There are so many things we used to do as kids that parents these days only imagine with horror, and I don’t know how I feel about that, really. I just know that sometimes, living only happens when you DO things. Take chances, push past easy.
Which idea happens to dovetail quite nicely with an oldie but goodie holiday story I wrote in the way back, Still Life.
Mac has been living on the edge a long time, out in the world on his own, but the real risk is when he comes back and asks Allan for a second chance.
When Allan Song’s ex, Mac, shows up to model for the life drawing class Allan teaches, he turns everything upside-down. Mac is still as infuriatingly attractive as when Allan first met him—and still trying to figure out where he fits on the gender spectrum. He’s more than a little out of control, and he’s taken some stupid risks that have come back to haunt him. If they’re going to get back together, Allan wants a real relationship—but for that, he and Mac will need to look below the surface.
Jaime Samms is a plaid-hearted Canadian who spends the too-long winters writing stories about love between men and the too-short summers digging in the garden. There are dust bunnies in the corners of her house—which she blames on a husky named Kai. There are dishes on the counter—which is clearly because teenagers! There is hot coffee in the pot and the occasional meal to keep her from starving—because her husband is remarkable and patient.
A multipublished author whose work has been translated into French, Italian, and German, Jaime delights in the intricate dance of words that leads her through tales of the lost and brokenhearted men she writes about to the love stories that find and mend them.
And when the muse is being stubborn, she also makes pretty things with yarn and fabric scraps because in her world, no heart is too broken to love, and nothing is too worn or tired it can’t be upcycled into something beautiful. All it takes is determination and the ability to see life a little bit left of center.
Buy the book at Dreamspinner Press.