Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts

Friday, December 19, 2025

Book Review - T. Thorn Coyle's By Earth

By Earth by T. Thorn Coyle
Published by: Pf Publishing
Publication Date: April 27th, 2018
Format: Kindle, 242 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Legend has it that ghosts can't follow you over water. Between Tennessee and Portland there is a great big river bisecting the country. But legend fails to mention that there are ghosts everywhere. That is why Cassiel buried that part of her deep. Shoved her ability to see ghosts in a box and pushed it to the very back of the closet and kept it there through sheer willpower and rage. That wasn't who she was anymore. She wasn't the broken girl whose parents forced her to work with police. Now she has a new life, a coven, the Arrow and Crescent, whose patron Goddess is Diana, friends, and a job at a local cafe owned by the head of her coven, Raquel. Life is good, it's normal. Sure her landlord is about to make her homeless by increasing the rent, but at least she's in some control of her life. That is until the coven performs their Solstice eve ceremony and a ghost reaches out to Cassie. She's in denial that that is what she saw. That box is buried deep. History CAN NOT be repeating itself. And then into the cafe walks Joe. He's Raquel's next door neighbor. He's hot and he's haunted. His girlfriend Tarkia was a star reporter for the Mount Tabor Monthly who one night ended it all with a bottle of pills chased with some bourbon. An act totally against her nature. Her brother, Darius, has blamed Joe ever since. She's now been gone longer than Joe and her were together and yet he can't get over her. And his life is about to be hit with a dose of the uncanny. He suffers a severe injury at work due to a phone call that didn't register on his call log. When he approaches Cassie for help she freaks and he stumbles into Darius. Darius is not doing well. His apartment looks like the nest of a conspiracy theorist. But, loath as he is to admit it, Darius has a point. Whenever Cassie was working on something big she shut everyone out. Add to that she wasn't the type of person to kill herself and Darius has come to the conclusion she was murdered by whomever she was investigating. A suspicion Joe has had deep down for a long time. But Darius and Joe can't do this alone. Cassie is obviously involved because Tarika has reached out to her. And Cassie knows that three against unseen forces isn't nearly as good as a whole coven full of witches against the unknown. The Arrow and Crescent Coven is going to get justice for Tarkia, and maybe in the process start to help Portland to heal from the corruption at the very top. Sure, their approach might be unique, but after all, the goal is to keep Portland weird!

This book is like a warm embrace when you need it the most. A welcoming community with a conscience. It had the vibe of Charmed with a huge helping of social justice. It took me back to my college days where I moved through a cozy community of homes and restaurants and cafes talking about how the world could be changed while marveling that all my friends had the same moon and stars throw blanket. There is a very specific demographic for this book and I am it. Don't we all just want a safe haven? Don't we all just want there to be something we can do to help make the world a better place? Everyone deserves the right to live. That includes food and shelter. It also doesn't hurt that this takes place in Portland which has been on the news so much for how they are standing up to the government. Long live the frogs! Keep Portland weird! Go chicken man go! The issues I had with By Earth are that cozy vibes and good intentions can only take you so far. The plot matters. And as the book nears its conclusion it started to feel rushed and slightly incomprehensible. Like we were going to get some sort of ending but not everything wrapped up because there are eight more books focusing on different coven members that follow. And, well, even though this is from 2018, things have changed so much that I don't think a politician losing their shit on television is enough to get them ousted from power anymore. Their plan was to take those out at the top and it relied on consequences actually existing. And well, as we've seen more and more, there are no consequences anymore. And their are no editors anymore because dear me, the timeline errors and typos are rife. Because there is NO WAY the timeline of this book works. So, this story starts on the eve of winter solstice and primarily concludes on Christmas Eve. There's a denouement a few days later, but that's not important. Day one, we have our "meet cute" between Cassie and Joe when he comes to repair the pipes at the cafe. Day two, Joe has his accident. Which means they have their first "date" on the third day and Joe runs into Darius and agrees to meet him at his apartment the next day. Day four into day five, after being with Darius Joe stays up all night connecting the dots that Darius previously had and has some takeout with Cassie which leads to a full coven meeting. Day six Cassie and Darius meet and there's an arson attempt and everything concludes on day seven. That's, minimally, seven days it takes for the events of this story to happen. I'm sure I'm missing some and Joe's injury hopefully meant he rested a day or two in bed. But minimally seven days. So, the earliest the winter solstice can be is December 20th. That means our story starts properly on the 20th and concludes on the 24th. Five days. Are there two Mondays or Tuesdays!?! Because there actually are two Thursdays... This is just annoying lack of foresight that drove me batty. If I hadn't gone down the days of the week conspiracy like Darius with Tarkia's murder this would have been such an enjoyable read. As is, I enjoyed it, but with caveats because I could not in good conscience ignore the blatant time discrepancies.

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tuesday Tomorrow

Four Gathered on Christmas Eve by Eric Powell, Mike Mignola, Becky Cloonan, and James Harren
Published by: Dark Horse Books
Publication Date: December 19th, 2023
Format: Hardcover, 72 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:
"Four of the top creators in comics gather to continue the Victorian tradition of ghost stories on Christmas Eve.

Four tales of the bizarre and terrifying to keep you company on the cold yule night. A unique approach to the ghost story format where the creators themselves become part of the story in this deluxe edition hard cover designed by the award-winning Phil Balsman."

Needing that last minute gift for the comic lover in your life? Well, Dark Horse is riding in to the rescue!

Deadly Game by Michael Caine
Published by: Mobius
Publication Date: December 19th, 2023
Format: Hardcover, 320 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:
"DCI Harry Taylor has no respect for red tape or political reputations - but he's great at catching criminals.

And all his unorthodox skills will be needed as an extraordinary situation unfolds on his doorstep: a metal box of radioactive material is found at a dump in Stepney, East London, but before the police can arrive it is stolen in a violent raid.

With security agencies across the world on red alert, it's Harry and his unconventional team from the Met who must hit the streets in search of a lead. They soon have two wildly different suspects, aristocratic art dealer Julian Smythe in London and oligarch Vladimir Voldrev in Barbados. But the pressure is on. How much time does Harry have, and how many more players will join the action, before the missing uranium is lighting up the sky? Deadly Game is a compelling, fast-paced novel of international intrigue and twisting suspense from a legendary actor and British icon, who now proves himself to be a first-rate thriller writer."

I mean, there's no way Michael Caine actually wrote this right? Unless this was his big move after quitting acting... Either way, it's what everyone's dad is getting for Christmas this year.

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Agatha Christie

When people think of authors from the 1920s I don't think many people think of Agatha Christie because she was prolific for such a long time, her final book being published posthumously in 1976 a few months after her death. Hercule Poirot might be inseparable from the the Art Deco trappings of the 1920s but Christie herself has become timeless. Yet her first book featuring the Belgian detective, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, was published in 1920 and she went on to publish ten more books during this decade. From an early age it was clear Christie was a voracious reader and budding writer. Her mother, due to some whim, decided that Agatha wasn't to learn to read or write until she was eight. Agatha taught herself at age four. By age ten she had written her first poem, "The Cowslip," which is so beautiful and elegant it's hard to imagine a girl of only ten writing it. By age eleven her father died and she viewed it as the end of her childhood. What came next was marriage and war. Two things that would forever change her.

On Christmas Eve, 1914 she married Archie Christie while he was home on leave. To do her patriotic duty she worked first as a nurse and then as a dispenser, which is where she learned all about medicine, and more importantly, about poisons. No one could ever fault her writing for getting these details wrong due to her experience. During the war in 1916 she wrote her first detective novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, being inspired by her work in the dispensary and the Belgian refugees she encountered in the hospital. But before she would see it published the war would end and she would have a child. The twenties also brought about the death of her mother and her divorce, which lead to her own mysterious disappearance in 1926 that was never explained and had the country in an uproar. Whether the public thought it a publicity stunt or not, one thing was clear, they needed Agatha Christie and her books. Lucky for them she wrote 66 detective novels and 14 short-story collections in total that have sold over two billion copies, an amount surpassed only by the Bible and the works of William Shakespeare.

Tuesday, December 25, 2018

'The Christmas Tree' by Mark E. Lefebvre (My Dad)

My father had only one rule for Christmas—it had to be snowing when we went for the tree. Snow had to be in the air. My father had a reverence for seasons. He also believed in magic. This was, after all, the man who in late October would sit at dawn in his duck skiff waiting for the Mallards to rise in the morning mist. It was all about reverence and magic.

So, I would sit anxiously looking out my bedroom window at the grey, smudged sky waiting for it to open, waiting for God to make our neighborhood a gently shaken snow globe. My father expected patience. In the tradition of his own boyhood, the tree would not be put up and decorated until Christmas Eve. We had time.

Then it happened. It always happened. The heavens began to sift snow down on our little town of De Pere. The wind coming off the Fox River blew it up between the houses and the adventure would begin. Sherpas in search of our destiny! We bundled into the car and headed for the Hockers Farm on the outskirts of town, a little way beyond the city limits, just past the Mile-Away Tavern.

It was a working farm that was transformed each December. Snow fencing was run around the barnyard and Christmas lights were strung on poles. The Hockers brothers had harvested the trees and they were set against the fencing and leaned against the barn. The lights, the trees, the smells from the warm barn, the snow swirling about awakened our imaginations to the possibilities of the days ahead. If I had fretted by my bedroom window in anticipation, I was now a dizzy snow angel.

It was always a time of ritual when Doc Lefebvre arrived at Hockers. Large of heart, but with little means, the brothers relied on my father’s kindness throughout the year. There were, of course, the eggs that would appear on the porch in an old wire basket and the occasional plucked chicken arrived in time for Sunday dinner, but it was the ritual of the tree where the Hockers expressed their deepest appreciation to my father. Their affection was real and even as a boy, I could feel it though my fingers and toes were numb, numb from waiting in the snow for the adventure to unfold.

It seemed to me that we inspected every tree in the yard, discussed its merits and then, ultimately, heard the brothers’ verdict—it was not good enough. Then, finally, frostbitten and tired, we would come upon the tree, the tree that the brothers had hand selected much earlier. It was hidden for that special moment of discovery and revelation. The procession of carrying the tree and tying it to the car was done with the greatest reverence—it outdid the celebration of Midnight Mass. As always, it was a gift, no payment could be negotiated despite my father’s protests.

This was the way we celebrated the choosing of the Christmas tree during the first half of the 1950s. It was a time of joy when simple friendship and kindness guided us to the perfect tree.

My father had been ill for a long time. Diagnosed with cancer in 1946, he struggled to live until the autumn of 1956. He died two weeks after my eighth birthday on a clear October day when the ducks were flying out over Green Bay. I was bewildered and lost.

My mother had never gone to get the Christmas tree with us. I heard her on the telephone talking to one of the Hockers brothers telling him that we would be by. When we arrived on a late, cold, snowless afternoon, the brothers were standing in the yard holding a perfect tree. They tied it on the car without saying a word. My mother did not say anything either. As we drove off, I could see these big men in their overalls and huge coats wiping tears from their eyes with their red kerchiefs.

It was the last year that my mother and I would ever have a tree. In the years that followed, we would pack ourselves up and visit family elsewhere. We never talked about the Christmas tree or the Hockers. We never talked about my father.

I keep a snow globe on my desk and when Christmas approaches, I gently shake it and I look closely to see if a small boy and his father make it to the barnyard illuminated with lights, the barnyard that lives on in my memory.

I tell this story now, years later, to honor my father and to remind myself of the lessons I learned from him. I hope that they hold meaning for you—this is my prayer in the close and holy darkness of Christmas.

Monday, December 24, 2018

Tuesday Tomorrow

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Reckoning by Joss Whedon
Published by: Dark Horse Books
Publication Date: December 24th, 2018
Format: Paperback, 112 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:
"Joss Whedon's Buffy and crew are confronted by a future Big Bad who has traveled to the present, intent on stealing the power of the Slayers, becoming all-powerful, and destroying the world as we know it!

The lives of Buffy and the Scoobies haven't been too eventful for a while - at least as far as fighting demons and the forces of darkness are concerned. But that all changes when Angel brings news of an amassing a force that must be reckoned with: Wolfram and Hart, a legion of demons, and Harth, vampire from the future. Buffy knows Harth and his twin sister - the Slayer, Fray - from her meeting with them and Dark Willow in the future. But this army that has been gathered is more than she and her crew were expecting...Narrowly escaping an initial encounter, the gang travels to the future to recruit Fray and learn of their dismal fate should they fail to defeat this legion that has invaded the present. Harth is after the power of the Slayers, and being in possession of all their memories, he knows how to rewrite the outcome of this ultimate battle before it occurs. This is the reckoning...and it could be the end of Buffy, Fray, and all the Slayers, forever."

Not many books are released on Christmas Eve... but here's some Buffy. I'm not saying it's good. It's the end of the comics though. Clunky, just like the rest of the run. 

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