I’ll say it out right now. I am a Scrooge. I’m not a fan of the holidays. My mantra is “Bah humbug!.” As a Pagan, I hate all the commercialism. Yule is my least favorite Sabbat. Writing is my coping mechanism. I have a blog to do for my publisher once a week, and then I’ll probably cast about for an idea for another novella to start. Actually, my current reason for hating the holiday is limited funds. If you feel the same way, what is your reason? Is it the stress of rushing around, trying to find the right gift for everyone on your list, decorating, and planning and creating the perfect Christmas feast? There are entirely too many ads around imaging the “Perfect Christmas/Yule.”
I think of the veterans who don’t have families, many don’t even have homes, and they’re confronted with this traumatic image of the perfect holiday. Many take their final solution this time of year for this very reason. The veterans’ crisis lines must be ringing off the hook this time of year, made even worse by a president who boasts of being the veterans’ friend, but in reality cuts funds to the very services their meager lives depend on. End of my political rant.
Years ago, I wrote filks of some of the better known carols so that I and others like me could bear to sing them. “Oh Little House at Boleskine” and the Thelemic version of “Silent Night” might yet become part of the canon. For those who don’t know, a filk is different words set to a familiar tune. The “Star Spangled Banner” is actually a filk, set as it was to a bawdy 17th century drinking song. The drinking song has been forgotten, but people all over the world know the US anthem.
One friend, I think he’s dead now, penned an essay called “Merry Mythmas!” about all the Pagan traditions of the holiday. I used to photocopy it, and pass the copies around. Some parts of it were rather gory, and could trigger some of us with rather delicate sensibilities, but the balls on the Yule tree weren’t always made of glass. But I think that the more bigoted among us, who declare that there “really is a war on Christmas,” and won’t accept a “Happy Holidays” or “Seasons Greetings” greeting, deserve to have their sensibilities triggered. They believe it’s “their” holiday, and will go through some elaborate gyrations to prove it. The one book they fall back on is their bible, which we Pagans don’t accept as holy writ, so they’re screwed there.
It all boils down to one thing: if you get down or stressed about the holidays, write about it. If you call yourself a writer, you should be taking a notebook with you everywhere you go anyway, because you never know when inspiration will strike for that Great American Novel or Great Canadian Novel if you are a countryman or -woman of Elise Whyles’. Write while you are in line at the grocer’s or the department story, or Walmart, or any of the other stores you find yourself at. I say write, meaning with pen on paper for 2 reasons: 1: I kick it old school. 2: Studies have shown that you remember it better if you write it by hand, rather than dictate it, or type it into some app, and my shrink adds, “Repeat it orally as you write it down, and you’ll retain it even longer.”
So, writers, take solace in your writing. Readers, take solace in your books. It’s only one month out of the year, and then you can return to business as usual.
