Here are more of the capsule reviews I’m doing of the ongoing “advent calendar” of stories published by WMG Publishing, as edited by writer Kristine Kathryn Rusch.
Quick recap: this writing project delivers a short holiday story to your email inbox each day from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day, 40 stories in all. The cost via Kickstarter was $25, which works out to under a dollar a story. At the end of the run, subscribers will also get an ebook edition of all the stories. So it’s definitely a worth-it offer, pricewise.
Click the image to be taken to the Amazon page for these Holiday anthologies. (Affiliate link.) These are the first six in the series. Three are pubbed each year; one for holiday mysteries, one for holiday romances, and one special holiday anthology on, say, time travel stories, fantasy, etc. Please pardon my Star Wars carpet; it needs a good cleaning.
As I’ve been reading these, I’ve noticed two things:
The stories are often not as well proofed as the ones I see in other anthologies and in the name-brand digest magazines. Copy editing seems non-existent. If a writer lets typos slide in their submission, it’s likely to show up when subscribers get the story. The editor and her team don’t catch everything.
That said, the stories are of better quality that the ones I see in the digests. That quality shows up in one way, specifically: in the digests and usual anthos, the stories are thinking stories. The stories in the Holiday Spectacular are feeling stories. They pack a serious emotional punch. The protags are often grappling with emotional baggage that feels authentic. Lots of details ground us in working-class worlds that the digests gloss over or pretend don’t exist. And in at least five stories that I can recall, we encounter and get to know characters who are lesbian, trans, or queer. And many of the story endings, even in the “dark” stories, leave you in a puddle.
To expand on that last point, I can’t say if it’s the season, or the way I am feeling this year, but it just seems to me that I am moved to tears more by these stories than ones I read in magazines such as EQMM and AHMM. Granted, those are mystery magazines, and mystery readers crave satisfying solutions. The magazines deliver on that promise most of the time, but the pleasures are more cerebral than emotional.
I’m willing to bet that I will be thinking of these Holiday Spectacular stories long after the season ends.
Just so you know where I’m coming from: I am reading other books during this time. I just finished a nonfiction audiobook about writing that did touch on a lot of emotional themes. But that didn’t impact me the same way.
And I’m finally getting around to reading Connie Willis’s collection, A Lot Like Christmas, which I’ve heard about for years but never read. (I’m enclosing some affiliate links here, folks.) She’s a SFF author who absolutely adores Christmas, and writes deeply researched short stories and blogs on the topic. She even edited an anthology of great Christmas stories.
She’s not a feeling writer. She’s a comic genius, and her farcical stories often feel like the screwball comedies or wacky Christmas movies from the 1940s on. They sometimes end with a touch of romance. None of her stories—which are novella-length—have bought me to tears.
But a lot of the stories written by Kris Rusch, the editor of the Holiday Spectacular, do. In fact, I’m starting to see that feeling stories are what she does best. Sometimes there’s barely a plot; she’s pulling us deep inside a character’s world just so she can illuminate and express a very specific feeling. This year’s Spectacular kicked off with that story, “A Taste of Miracles,” about two pilots sipping cocoa in space and nostalgically remembering their Christmas memories. I mean, that’s the entire story, but it’s so haunting.
This time of year, I also go back and re-read the very first story of hers I ever read. It’s called the “The Last Christmas Letter.” An elderly father lies in a coma in a hospice, and for some bizarre reason his daughters receive Dad’s annual Christmas letter in the mail. They assume that he mailed it before he got really sick. But every time one of his daughters picks up the letter, there’s another page written. Ooh, spooky. The story first ran in Twilight Zone Magazine, so that’s the intended vibe. Still, it’s been years since I first read the damn story, and I can still remember sitting in a coffee shop after finishing the last word and telling my wife all about it. That’s how blown away I was.
So what I’m saying is, when editors edit magazines and anthologies, they pick the stories that speak to their sensibilities. That is not an earth-shattering statement, but I feel victorious because I finally understand why this project is so special. That, and the fact that this time of year is one that cries out for emotion. At least it does for me. I miss the people I’ve lost in the last year. I’m still getting over my diagnosis and treatment. And I hurt.
Well, shit. Enough about me. Let’s get to the stories…
The second 10 stories were:
“Lost and Found,” by Daphne Crowe. Another sweet romance story involving a young pretty widow, a vintage clothing shop in an adorable Cape Cod town, and a ruggedly handsome carpenter who’s trying to track down his father’s missing gold watch. The depth of the writing—the little details of the shop and the people who pass through it—pulled me in and kept me engaged. And yes, I ended up tearing up at the end.
“Cold-Hearted Christmas,” by Lisa S. Silverthorne. On Christmas Eve, a cop relives the murder case that forever bonded him to his work partner, a gruff older cop. The crime involves fentanyl and a headless corpse, but damn if it didn’t wrap in the sweetest way possible.
“Underdog Party,” by Johanna Rothman. A battered woman walks into a working-class Boston bar on December 15th, just as the patrons are about to celebrate National Underdog Day. (Yes, it’s a real thing; look it up.) This was a quick ‘n’ dirty piece, wrapped up in 2,000 words, about the same length as this author’s previous romance story about the Dreidel Ball. I appreciated how she sucked us into this world with telling details about the bar and its “mayor”—an off-duty cop—all building to a quick piece of action that saves the day. Deft piece of writing all around.
“The Last Angry Outburst of the Holiday Dalek,” by Dayle A. Dermatis. This is a fun crime caper story about a break-in at a geek shop—gaming and collectibles—over the holidays. The protag’s first-person voice sells the story, and I enjoyed living in that world for a short visit. I am a geek, just not this type of geek, so I had to spend some time researching what a Dalek was, and nailing down the final, funny reference.
“Dead Names,” by Annie Reed. Man, this is a bleak story about a retired case worker living under an assumed name who get sucked back into life on the streets when she’s asked to help a young trans kid. I became invested in this story quickly, because I just couldn’t see how a powerless person could remedy the situation, but she does, and changes her life in the process. It’s amazing how you can inject Christmas magic into the bleakest story, which is probably a testament to the power of the season.
“Secrets Left Untold,” by Dæmon Crowe. Two Boston women uncover dark family secrets while connecting with a new “DNA cousin” in the mountains of New Hampshire. The setting, details, and voice sucked me in, but I still didn’t love the story. A subplot about the January 6th insurrection derailed me.
“Light Before Dawn,” by Leslie Claire Walker. Three people with complicated lives come together in a coffee shop in the pre-dawn hours of the Solstice. Everyone is a mature adult with an interesting back story. Everything about this quick romance was remarkably well done. I was mostly impressed with the dialogue, which felt unconventional. Just enough words to remind us that two humans were talking, and no more. Emotional and satisfyingly sweet.
“The Perfect Solstice Wedding,” by Dayle A. Dermatis. With a title like this, you know it’s not gonna end up being perfect, right? The author who gave us the Dalek story is back, with a very sweet story that reminds us that when it comes to weddings, you only need three things to make it all come together. This story, and the one before it, are turning me into a big softie.
“Light of Love,” by Rei Rosenquist. A queer love story set in an urban fantasy world. Our protagonist is at odds with themselves because they aren’t quite sure if they’re ready to declare their gender. They get help from (and find love with) a magical being at the winter market in an unnamed city where magic is in the air. I loved the fantastical descriptions of three settings: the market itself, the ice maze where the protag confronts their duality, and the forest where it all comes together. Lovely work.
“A Winter Challenge,” by R.W. Wallace. A caper crime story with a romantic twist. A crook in Norway plans a heist, only to find love along the way. Another great story set on the shortest day of the year, in a city that gets a fraction of the sunlight I’ve lived with all my life. There was enough meat in this story to create a movie 10 times better than any of the Ocean’s 11 sequels.
That’s a peek at the third batch of 10 stories. Wow—we are now 10 days from the end of the 2023. You’ll get my last batch of reviews in the New Year, when the project concludes.
See Part I of this series, with my review of the first 10 stories.
See Part II of this series, with my review of the second batch of 10 stories.
See Part IV of this series, with my reviews of the final 10 stories.