Christmas Is In the Air |
Blurb:
Eight-year-old Howie Evinger is convinced that his dad would be
happier if he found a new husband. Howie would be happier, too. And somewhere
out there in the city of Vancouver, there's the right man for his dad to love.
But how to find him? That’s a problem, especially if you’re just a kid and your
dad says he doesn’t want another husband.
With the help of his quirky aunt who calls herself a Buddhist Wiccan,
Howie builds his very own solstice altar with cool symbols to support his
search. It has a candle, a feather and a twisty stick, plus an agate for his
dad, and a scallop shell for his new husband. Share Howie’s solstice adventure
as he learns how real magic requires courage and patience as well as symbols.
Excerpt:
Dedication
To the wise and uncertain child in each of us,
keeper of the flame of wonder.
Stone and Shell
Maybe the stone and the shell were too close to the candle. Howie
wasn’t sure how this stuff worked. He studied his Solstice altar, made out of a
wooden TV tray covered in a piece of dark green cloth. He felt nervous, like
sitting in a surprise math test he hadn’t prepared for. He had dreams like that
sometimes. He hated math.
If he left his objects too close together, would his wish cover enough
territory? Vancouver was a big city. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and
frowned. Shanna, who was really his aunt Shannon, even though she didn’t let
him call her that, would know how it worked.
She’d taught him about symbols last week, which was a totally cool
idea. Then she helped him build his Solstice altar and told him to place his
symbols wherever he felt was right for them. The problem was he didn’t know how
to place them so his wish, which sat like a giant lump inside him, would come
true. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask her about placement rules for wishes.
Dad was working late tonight, and the house was a lot nicer when
someone was home already. Back when his dad and Joel were together, they’d had
a big Buddha statue, which was the first thing anybody saw when they came in
the front door. It was like having a friend waiting for you to come home. Joel
had taken it to Toronto with him, and the house felt different without it. He’d
told Dad he didn’t mind that it wasn’t there anymore, but he actually did. He
didn’t want to be a wuss and complain, though. His best friend, Ricky, was
lucky. The Liu family had a gold Buddha set up in their house with all kinds of
beautiful stuff around it, even incense. Howie liked the smell, but it made him
sneeze sometimes.
Shanna would come soon, and he’d help her get dinner ready. Usually on
Dad’s late days, all three of them would eat together, which was nice. It was
lasagna tonight, Howie knew, because Dad had made it on the weekend and had
frozen most of it for nights like this.
So when Shanna got there in a bit, he’d ask her how Solstice altars
worked. She’d know what to do. She’d told him all about Druids and the Solstice
and the Celts who were Howie’s ancestors. When he said he thought his
grandparents were English, Shanna got a little mad and said just because
someone is born in a barn, doesn’t mean he’s a horse. Howie didn’t get it
entirely, but he’d stuck with being from the Celts after that.
He was doing pretty well with the altar, as far as he could tell. He’d
found objects representing the four forces, which Shanna said every altar
needed. He’d found a tiny pure white gull feather with really pretty fuzz near
the bottom that moved even when you blew on it just a little. That was for air,
and he had a twisty stick for earth. The candle was fire, of course. And then
there was water. That part was easy; he already had the little scallop shell
and the agate, both from the ocean.
Trouble was, he didn’t want to talk to her about his wish again, or
that the stone on his altar also represented his dad, and the shell was a new
husband for him because it was smooth and beautiful inside. The shell would
hold the stone, and give it a place to be really happy again.
He’d already told Shanna months ago that his biggest wish was for his
dad to find a new husband, and she’d kissed his cheek and laughed, her eyes
shiny with what he could tell were almost-tears even though she didn’t say so,
whispering that was a lovely but awfully big wish for an eight-year-old boy to
carry. Howie didn’t mind how big the wish was. He wanted it to come true more
than anything else in the whole world.
He pulled the agate pebble back from the candle a little way, but kept
it nestled against the shell. Farther from the candle felt right, but the
pebble and shell shouldn’t be that close yet. Who knew how far apart they
really were? He pulled them apart a few inches, hating the new gap. Even so,
the distance felt right. For now. He’d put them closer together soon.
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Bio:
I’m a mystic,
writer, healer, lover, cancer survivor, father, friend. I
write (mostly) gay fiction featuring all those paths and more.
Having
led what can only be
described as a checkered life, I can honestly say I’m grateful
for all of it.
I’ve been a minister, an office worker, a janitor, a drinker,
and a software
developer on my way to finishing my first novel in 2004.
But
basically I’m just a
weather-worn psychic empath still learning how to live in the
world just the
way it is. The thing is, I experience the world as so much more
than is
generally accepted. That’s the challenge. Writing stories is the
best way I’ve
found to examine and share the questions, the wonders I engage
daily.
My husband and I
have
been together since 2002, married since 2007. Between us we have
four children
and five grandchildren. We're based in south Florida, and work
hard to keep up with the astonishing life we've created for
ourselves.
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