Grand Finale in France!

 Sujata Massey

December 31 is the grand finale of every year. This closeout of a calendar is meaningfully observed in most countries of the world. I always have a reason to anticipate New Year’s Eve, no matter whether I’m going out or staying in. And while a lot of national and world events in 2025 were very distressing, it was a great year for my personal travel and appreciation of new places and ideas.

The path was revealed through a series of flights, train rides and drives through Europe this fall. I’ve already written essays about my October-November travels in England, Scotland and Greece. That was supposed to be my trip in full. However, a fateful tapas get-together with two friends at the New Orleans Bouchercon mystery convention convinced me to add on France. 

Diana Chambers, Persia Walker and me

Diana Chambers is a Californian who writes suspense fiction. Persia Walker is a writer of historic mystery, originally from New York but with considerable time living and working in Europe. Diana and Persia met by chance on a train returning from Paris to Aix-en-Provence, where Diana stays when researching and Persia has been residing for three years already. I have mostly spent time with these two at conventions where we have fallen into discussions about life overseas and writing. My trip to France would give me a chance to see some places on my own and the small city they both chose in the South of France.

Downtown Lyon Street

River view of government buildings and Basils

But before Aix, I stayed for a few days in my port of entry: France's third largest city, Lyon. I arrived late at night from Greece into the town's airport. My hotel had kindly scheduled a driver to pick me up take me the half-hour to the historic Hôtel Carlton near Place de la République. I awoke to sunny skies and a historic city filled with the same kind of Haussmannian buildings for which Paris is famous. With two beautiful rivers running through the city that had pedestrian walking bridges, it felt incredibly romantic. Romantic enough that one day, I walked nine miles.

Hilltop view from Fourvière over Lyon

I tried out my fractured French phrases at a real café where the café crème was hot and strong, and the accompanying croissant smaller than what I was used to in America, and also much more tender and flavorful. Lyon is considered France's culinary capital, and I explored this through restaurants near where I was staying, and also in central Lyon at Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse, a covered grocery and restaurant market named in honor of the late godfather of nouvelle cuisine. There are many kinds of food in Lyon, all seeming delicious. My highlights included a pork medallion with lentils at the food hall, and a very fine mushroom risotto and a salad Lyonaisse at a perfect little cafe called Le Layon. Another intriguing detail is Lyon's tradition of almond-flavored cakes that are always colored fuchsia.

Chef Bocuse watches his city

Cakes inside the Bocuse Halle

Risotto, French style

Throughout my days in Lyon, people automatically spoke to me in French, and I guessed from the multicultural nature of the city that I might be mistaken for a second- or third-generation Frenchwoman. It was a welcoming feeling, and I wished I didn’t have to use my phone as often as I did for the right phrase. Could I seriously learn French at my age? The thought popped into my head, and it's still there. 

Central Lyon

Everywhere in Lyon, and later in Aix and especially Marseille, I saw color. Mixed race families strolling the boulevards, interracial couples in cafes, and diverse groups of kids hanging together by their schools.I’m aware of the existence of the French nationalist group that is against racial diversity, yet I sensed no evil looks or threats. I also had read that France had a law prohibiting women from wearing religious clothing such as a hijab in sports and state-run buildings, but I saw women with headscarves. It turns out such dress is legal in public spaces.  

For me, the foreign solo traveler in France, there was just one source of nervousness: language. Although I’ve absorbed hundreds of French words in novels,—and know that many English words have French or other romance language roots, I’ve not studied French. I leaned into this and soon enough was booking train and restaurant reservations on French-only websites. I used translation apps to help me turn those elegant words into clumsy verbal offerings.

 

Historic residence in Aix

Aix confectionary

View to a school

After a fractured French conversation with a cab driver and a quiet, fast train ride, I exited Lyon and arrived In Aix on the dot. I was filled with excitement at meeting people I could chatter to in English. 

It's such a gift when a friend overseas invites you to visit. This kind of connection moves one beyond tourist highlights and into the wonders of everyday life. Friendly guidance leads me to unexpected buildings, restaurants and other sights. Walking slowly through the massive Cathédrale St-Saveur with Persia, I saw small paintings and figures that she adored, that I might have been moving too fast to see. With Diana, a day trip to Marseille resulted in her introducing me to the most magnificent historic hardware shop imaginable, complete with antique doll furniture. 

  

Persia lived in a charming one-bedroom in a possibly medieval century building that had been renovated into flats, and Diana and her husband were renting an AirBnB that was half of a grand 19^th century house surrounded by gardens. Rents in Aix are higher than in a lot of parts of France, but with its cozy size, it can be easier here than in other places. It was routine for these two to stroll to shopping, public transport, and frequent get-togethers for Café or Apero (pre-dinner drink) with others. The city also has a sizable population of foreigners living year round. There are organized social groups that are English speaking and meant to support foreigners living in France. Some women I met in these groups have lived here for decades and have a current or former French partner; they understand and speak French with fluency, or very close to that. Others are retired from overseas careers like the State Department, or simply came from the US, Britain or elsewhere with modest to intermediate French that’s growing through daily living and language classes. Various friends commented on the peace they felt living here. They say it's a peace built on a foundation that people of all means deserve free health care, and that guns and violence have been successfully restricted—if not vanquished—in France.  

A stately Aix garden

My own observation is that another special element is the trust and consideration people give to each other—even if they aren’t friends or family.  Twice I experienced fellow travelers asking me, in French, if they could carry my luggage on a staircase. Language isn't a barrier to people reaching out to help others—but I have to remember that people are not psychic. There will be times I don’t understand something  that I should ask. But there is that feeling of foreigner shyness that overcomes me. 

 

Marseille Railway Station

And that leads me to a confession of my almost-fail in a country of high efficiency. I must explain how someone who got to the station an hour before departure I almost missed the train from Aix to Charles de Gaulle Airport.

The French TGV high speed trains are marvels of speed and comfort. All three cities I visited had them departing almost every hour to points all over France. The earlier you book a train, the cheaper it is, and if you are a young person or over sixty, you can book seats at discounts as high as 30 percent. And you can bring your dogs! 

The trouble is  that these marvelous trains come in fast, have many cars, and exit the station more speedily than an Amtrak. It’s hard to know where to stand on a platform to be close to your correct car, which is crucial if you have luggage. The trouble started because of my confusion over the electronic sign board inside the station which didn’t show the name CDG on the route, just the ultimate end destination—and I hadn’t done my homework on the whole route. A station employee instructed me to pass through the south gate in order to meet the particular train, so I assumed that was where the train would briefly park. In reality, the train rushed in and went much farther to the north. I knew the letter for my car was G, and the lettered cars near by area was R and S. I started running north, keeping close to the train and listening for any bits of conversation I could understand. Another foreigner was speaking with a passenger boarding the train, a Frenchman who spoke good English. I heard the  Frenchman say , “no, no! This part of the train does not go to CDG. That’s up front.”

A train that splits into two. Zut alors!

It’s hard to run if you’re not a runner, let alone with a suitcase. As I ran I wondered: should I put an end to this and just board? Even if I board in the wrong car, have I got to the half of the train going to CDG? An ominous whistle blew, but a compartment door was open, and the conductor was there, his face perturned.  Where do you go?” he asked in English. “CDG,” I panted.

“This car is for CDG!”

No better words ever heard. In seconds, I’d stepped up into what  turned out to be my exactly designated car. 

Was there an angel on my shoulder? It's true that I had been inside a lot of cathedrals . . . maybe someone flew down from the ceiling and had hitched along. 

Bonne année!

See you in 2026. 

Facing my LLM Dragons (on Crime Fiction in 2026)

Ovidia--every other Tuesday

In this strange space between Christmas and the start of the new year, I've been finding it hard to focus productively.

I know I need to let go of things to free up space in my life for new things to come in, and I like that very much in theory--only I haven't exactly been letting go of things. In fact I bought more notebooks and pens yesterday. In the coming year I mean to try to record my reading and writing with good, old fashioned pen and paper.

Because though I use computers to send out my writing, pens (and pencils) are how I think with my fingers... and because I find the new AI Large Language Models intimidating. I've been reading about them, how they're taking over the writing of everything from college papers to novels and frying our brains!

But now I admit they scare me, I have to find out more about them--know your enemies, right?
Looking into LLM(Large Language Model) generated AIs feels a little like going into the dragon's lair and I'm not sure whether I'll get out again--or what I'll come out as.

But I figured that where I am now, between books and between years, is the best time to chase dragons.

So I downloaded 4 apps: free versions of ChatGPT, Claude, Dibbly Create and Gemini.

And asked each of them to suggest what Crime Fiction Writers can best do in 2026 in a world of shrinking attention spans...

ChatGPT:
In 2026, when everyone is fighting shrinking attention spans, crime fiction writers can actually lean into what our genre does best: create curiosity that refuses to let go.
Let’s write with momentum — shorter chapters, clearer stakes, hooks that reward readers quickly — while still delivering emotional depth and moral complexity over time. Let’s also meet readers where they are: share snippets, bonus scenes, and behind-the-scenes peeks on social platforms to invite them back into books rather than compete with those platforms.
And perhaps most important, let’s read each other generously, recommend widely, and celebrate stories that make people feel smart, seen, and satisfied — because when reading feels rewarding, people make time for it, no matter how busy the world gets.

Claude:
As crime fiction writers navigating 2026's fractured attention landscape, our greatest opportunity lies not in surrendering to brevity but in weaponizing what makes our genre irresistible: narrative hooks that create genuine compulsion.
While the world scrolls faster, mystery readers still devour 400-page novels in single sittings when the stakes feel immediate and personal.
Consider structuring your work with shorter, propulsive chapters that offer natural pause points without sacrificing depth—each one ending with a question that demands answering.
Embrace serialization where it makes sense, whether through newsletter fiction, social media storytelling that builds community, or podcast adaptations that meet readers in their commute-time reality.
Most importantly, remember that "short attention span" often means "low tolerance for padding"—readers will focus intently on prose that earns every sentence. They're not asking for less substance; they're asking us to cut the throat-clearing and get to the body in the library.
Make your opening pages do what crime fiction does best: create an itch that can only be scratched by turning the next page, and the next, until the case is closed.

Dibbly Create:
In 2026, crime fiction writers face the challenge of capturing readers' fleeting attention in an age of shrinking focus spans. To boost both writing and reading, authors can embrace concise, impactful storytelling, weaving gripping narratives with sharp, immersive scenes that hook readers swiftly.
Experimenting with multimedia formats such as audio snippets, interactive mysteries, or serialized micro-stories shared on social platforms can engage diverse audiences.
Prioritizing compelling, relatable characters and cliffhanger endings will keep readers eager for more, while fostering a vibrant community through online discussions and exclusive previews will deepen the connection between writers and their audience, revitalizing the crime fiction genre for the modern era.

Gemini:
To boost writing and reading in 2026, we must stop viewing the "short attention span" as a hurdle and start treating it as a new narrative architecture.
Instead of thinning out our plots, we should lean into "narrative Darwinism" by sharpening our hooks and adopting a serialized mindset that mirrors the dopamine-driven pace of the digital age.
By experimenting with micro-tensions—small, relentless questions seeded in every scene—and exploring shorter, punchy formats like novellas or episodic releases, we can meet readers where they are without sacrificing the depth they crave.
Ultimately, the writers who thrive in 2026 won’t be those who simplify their mysteries, but those who provide a high-value, "picky-attention" experience that respects the reader's time with lean, muscular prose and an undeniable reason to turn the next page.
Here is a "Quick Tips" sidebar offering actionable strategies for the crime writers of 2026. Strategies for the "Picky-Attention" Era
- The 10-Percent Rule: Aim to cut 10% of "connective tissue" (travel scenes, waking up, over-description) to ensure every page contains either a clue, a character pivot, or a pulse-quickening moment.
- The "Episodic" Hook: Structure novels with clear "mini-arcs" every 50 pages. This provides natural resting points for busy readers while creating a "just one more chapter" compulsion.
- Multimedia Integration: Consider offering "Atmospheric Companions," such as a curated Spotify playlist or a digital map of the crime scene, to deepen the immersive experience beyond the printed word.
- Micro-Mystery Marketing: Use social media to share 30-second "cold opens" or character interrogations to hook potential readers with immediate, bite-sized intrigue.
- Lean, Muscular Prose: Prioritize active verbs and sharp dialogue. In 2026, clarity is the greatest respect you can show a reader’s time.

Me:
I was surprised by how different their responses were. I kind of expected them all to be pretty much the same, drawing on the same material.
But then they weren't saying all that much either--kind of like the 'How to Write' books I used to devour (in the pre-Internet years) which is likely where this material came from.

So I asked each of them if they could come up with a 'manifesto' for crime writing in 2026, suggesting the rhythm of Tennyson's 'To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield' :

ChatGPT:
A Crime Fiction Manifesto for 2026 To read—widely and greedily.
Old masters and new voices, comfort rereads and risky choices.
To remember why we fell in love with this crooked, clever genre in the first place.
To write—even when the plot sulks,
even when the middle collapses,
even when the detective refuses to cooperate.
To put words on the page before we decide whether they’re any good.
To revise—again, and then again.
To sharpen clues, deepen motives,
cut what we love if it doesn’t serve the story,
and trust that clarity is an act of kindness to the reader.
To notice—how people lie, how cities breathe,
how justice is bent, delayed, or quietly delivered.
To steal shamelessly from life and return it improved.
To persist—through rejections, silence, distractions,
and the dangerous lie that everyone else finds this easy.
To keep faith with the work even when confidence goes missing.
To find pleasure—in puzzles solved,
in sentences that finally click,
in the shared language of alibis, red herrings, and motive.
And above all:
to read, to write, to revise (and revise again),
to ask better questions,
to keep showing up—
and not to yield.

Dibbly Create:
To read with fervor,To write with passion,To unravel mysteries with each draft,To chase elusive truths in every plot twist,To embrace every red herring and dead end,To share our stories and hear others’,And never to yield—For in the shadows of doubt lies the light of discovery,And together, we solve the unsolvable.

Claude AI:
THE CRIME FICTION COMPACT: A MANIFESTO FOR 2026
To read, to write, to relentlessly revise—and not to yield.
We are the keepers of dark stories and difficult truths. We write about murder and call it love.
We read about violence and call it understanding. In 2026, when the world offers endless distractions and reasons to abandon our pages, we make these promises to ourselves and each other: We will read promiscuously. The cozy and the noir. The police procedural and the psychological thriller. The debut and the backlist.
We will read outside our comfort zones and inside our favorite tropes. We will remember that every book we finish feeds the writer we're becoming. We will write badly before we write well.
The first draft is allowed to be a crime against literature. That's why revision exists. We will silence the editor on our shoulder and let the storyteller run wild. There will be time to clean up the blood spatter later.
We will revise with ruthless affection. We will murder our darlings when the story demands it, keep what serves the truth, and know the difference. Every cut makes the heart beat faster. We will trust the crooked path. Not every writing day will sing. Not every book will land. Not every protagonist will cooperate. The detour is part of the mystery. The solution reveals itself to those who stay with the case.
We will remember why we're here. Because crime fiction asks the questions that matter: What do people do when everything's at stake? What does justice look like? How do we live with what we've done? Because somewhere, someone needs the exact story only we can tell.
We will show up. On the days inspiration strikes and the days it doesn't. For fifteen minutes or five hours. To the blank page and the messy middle and the terrifying end. Presence is the only non-negotiable.
We will not go gently into the algorithm. We will resist the voices that say we're too slow, too quiet, too niche, too late. We will write the books that won't leave us alone, not the books that trend on Tuesday. The work will find its readers. Our job is the work.
We will celebrate each other's kills. Every finished draft, every publication, every review, every reader found. There is enough room in this genre for all of us. Your success doesn't diminish mine. Your book might be the one that saves someone's life, or at least their Wednesday.
This year, we refuse to let doubt close the case early. We commit to the crime. We follow the evidence. We stay until we solve it.
To read, to write, to relentlessly revise—and not to yield.
Now go forth and leave no witness.

Gemini:
In 2026, the world might feel like a locked-room mystery with no obvious exit, but for the lovers of the macabre and the masters of the "whodunnit," it is simply the ultimate prompt.
Here is a manifesto for the year ahead—a guide for the investigators of the human heart and the architects of the perfect alibi.
The 2026 Crime Fiction Manifesto
To Read, To Write, To Kill Your Darlings, and Not to Yield.
I. The Prime Directive
We recognize that crime fiction is not just about the "crime"; it is about the restoration of order in a chaotic world. In 2026, when the plot of reality feels thin, we promise to thicken our own.
II. On the Act of Reading (The Investigation)
- Broaden the Search: We shall read outside our usual jurisdictions. If you love Gritty Noir, find a Cozy. If you love Police Procedurals, find a Psychological Thriller.
- The Alibi of Silence: We will carve out thirty minutes of "untraceable time" each day. No phones, no pings—just us and the page.
- Support the Informants: We will buy from independent bookstores and leave reviews for mid-list authors.
In the ecosystem of crime, every witness matters. III. On the Act of Writing (The Execution)
- Trust the Process, Not the First Draft: We acknowledge that a first draft is just a body at a crime scene—messy, confusing, and full of unanswered questions. The truth comes out in the interrogation (the edit).
- No Clue is Too Small: We will write even when the "motive" is missing. 200 words a day is better than a "cold case" file that sits in a drawer for a decade.
- Embrace the Red Herring: When the plot stalls, we will throw a metaphorical grenade into the room. If we are surprised, the reader will be too. IV. On the Spirit of the Craft (The Code of Silence)
- Community Over Competition: We are a syndicate, not rivals. We celebrate the success of our peers because a win for one "detective" is a win for the genre.
- Resilience is the Only Weapon: Rejections are just "inconclusive evidence." We will not let a "No" stop us from finding the "Yes."
The 2026 Vow:
"I will look for the shadows where others seek the sun. I will find the logic in the illogical. I will read for the thrill, write for the soul, kill my darlings for the art, and I will never yield to the blank page."

Me:
What's maybe most frightening is how I kind of like these responses--especially 'We will not go gently into the algorithm' and I feel the lure of long, meandering conversations with a witty bot that doesn't get bored or have its feelings hurt by what I say. Interacting feels like meaningful engagement.
But is it? It kind of follows the 'rules' of engagement--the LLMs have access to more information than I do, so I'm learning stuff. And I try to verify the material so I'm paying attention and assessing it which is engagement. It certainly feels more 'involved' than passively staring at a screen.
I kind of like the 'character' nuanced responses generated and I'm impressed by the programming. As with everything else, it's how we use it, I guess.

But I'm still looking forward to using my new pens and new notebooks! Wishing you all a Happy, Healthy and Hope Filled 2026!

Piazza della Signoria.

Annamaria on Monday

My neighborhood piazza is the central one in Florence.  That means that it can be crowded and a bit difficult to navigate during the high season.  On the other hand, it means that I am just a few steps from great things to see. Here's a little bit about what I've been looking at over the past few days.

First, a few shots of the holiday projections on the facade of the Palazzo Vechia.

Earlier last week, I took a walk around the piazza with some visiting friends. For decades, I have been  admiring the statues on either side of the door, and another one nearby to our right. But this time, they seemed to be sending a message.

This I am sure you recognize as the copy of Michelangelo’s David, the original o

Of which stood outdoors here for centuries  

Hercules and Carcus by Bandinelli

Perseus with the Head of Medusa by Benvenuto Cellini

When I looked at them a few days ago, introducing them to my friends, it occurred to me how very interesting they were when you think about them making a collective statement. They were after all, at the entrance to the headquarters of the Medici. They seem to say, "I am watching you and. I am armed (David). If you don't behave, I will take control of you (Hercules). If you attack me, I will take:off your head.(Perseus)." This of course is not the real history.  But it isn't exactly totally wrong.

Auld Lang Syne Time is Upon Us Once Again!

Jeff—Saturday

Several years ago, a Mykonian lass who'd read my parody of "T'was the Night Before Christmas,"  suggested I take a crack at a similar treatment of "Auld Lang Syne," a New Year's Eve standard derived from a poem by perhaps the most famous Scot of all (other than our Caro)–Robert Burns (1759-1796). I see "Auld Lang Syne" as a paean of sorts to not forgetting old friends; somewhat of a downer subject as we all hope and pray for a far better new year for our world in 2025. 

But I went on to write the parody.

 

And I've come to realize over the years that what I wrote subliminally emerges as both uplifting and clear. I say that because last year I realized the question Ι posed in the first stanza is answered with optimism in the final line of each following stanza. Or so I think.:)

Robert Burns

 

Burns wrote the poem (here’s the original version) in 1787, set to the tune of a traditional folk tune (Roud #6294).  Its seminal phrase, “Auld Lang Syne,” is traditionally translated as “long, long ago” though “old long ago” is more literally correct (based upon my deep understanding of the Lowland Scots language) and is a song about love and friendship in times past. For those of us who believe in time travel, astral planes, and questionable sobriety, I should point out that the phrase “auld lang syne” has been used by other poets in their work, including one Allan Ramsay (1686-1757), which I guess gives our Caro and her Alan a claim to have beaten me to the punch (bowl).

The other Ramsay...also with another career, a wigmaker

Happy New Year, everyone—and please forgive me, Scotland.

Should odd acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should odd acquaintance be for not,
And made to toe the line?

As in odd.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

And surely you’ll pick yours to hug!
And surely I'll pick mine!
And we'll show a lot o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

We all have run about the hills
In search of flower wine;
And wandered many a weary foot,
But we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

We too have paddled up the stream,
In mourning, fun, and grind;
And seas between us broad have roar'd,
But we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

And here's a hand, my trusty friend!
And give a hand o' thine!
And we'll drink to kindness and good will,
For we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

To get your head back in the holiday mood in case I misread the uplifting nature of my parody--and me hopefully back in the good graces of the Scots--here's the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards playing Auld Lang Syne accompanied by a journey to the timeless Scotland of Robert Burns' inspiration.

A Happy, Healthy, and Prosperous New Year to ALL!

—Jeff

Boxing Day

 

Being historically a bit heathen and always up for a drunken rammy, Christmas Day was not a traditional holiday until the late 1950’s. The shipyards and heavy industry all stayed working as normal.

New Year though has always been a public holiday, as has the 2^nd of January. Scotland observed Boxing Day as a bank holiday in the 1970s, so both the legal and public‑holiday status of the 25^th and 26^th of December arrived later than in England and Wales.  When the 267^{th of} December falls on a weekend, the public holiday is often moved, which affects retail opening and public services across Scotland. And banks can hold onto money a wee bit longer rather than transfer it into the account as quickly as they can take it out.  Drives businesses nuts but never mind.

As you know, Boxing Day in the UK is observed on 26 December and was traditionally a time of charitable giving--- as it can be now the steady stream of unwanted presents heading off to the charity shop.  It’s now a time pf sleeping, eating leftovers, taking the dog for a long walk and watching what was missed on the TV.  Plus, it’s a huge day for horse racing and the huge Boxing Day sales one of the biggest retail events of the year. It was always a news item- the mad folk sleeping outside Harrods to nab a cheap TV or a (in those days) a fur coat. Sadly, the charm and the madness of the sales have been gradually replaced by Whatever Back Friday is.

It was also a day for the fox hunting to start. Thankfully banned in forward thinking parts of the Uk. That was also an item on the news, very rich people drinking alcohol from a symbolic silver ‘thing’ and still being able to stay on a horse, which is rather impressive.

Oscar Wilde's quote about fox hunting is: "The English country gentleman galloping after a fox: the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable." This quote reflects Wilde's biting wit and critique of the upper classes, particularly in the context of fox hunting, which was a traditional sport in England.

Historically boxing day was a day for presenting gifts or “boxes” to servants and the poor hence why it has evolved into a national public holiday with distinctive customs.

Boxing Day dates back to the start of the Christian calendar and the practice of giving alms (money to the poor) and gifts the day after Christmas. The name comes from the historical custom of distributing boxes of money, food, or goods to servants, tradespeople, and was associated with the Feast of St Stephen which is the 26th of December!

That’s when Good King Wenceslas looked out, and saw his favourite Pizza- deep, crisp and even.  I don’t if that joke translates but trust me it’s chortlesome.

During the Victorian era the custom became more formalised: employers gave their staff a “Christmas box” and servants were traditionally allowed the day off to visit their families, taking with them gifts or leftover food from their masters’ households so it really engages with an era when social classes were clearly defined. In Victorian Britain the household staff would work very long hours on Christmas Day (in those days the staff would be given one afternoon a week off, and maybe one day a month. They lived in and were fed well) to ensure their employers’ celebrations ran smoothly.  Hence why they were given time off to visit their own families, with boxes of leftover food, money, or practical items and maybe the odd present if they were treasured by their employers.  Postmen, butchers, milkmen and binmen also received boxes as tokens of appreciation for their service throughout the year, and this continues today but it is an envelope that’s handed over.

In a very British way, Boxing Day reflected class structures of the time while also institutionalising charitable giving.

On Boxing Day churches would collect donations for the poor and local charities, and the Box of Boxing Day probably comes from the alms boxes in churches that collected the donations.

Christmas in Utah

Karen – every other Thursday (including both Thanksgiving and Christmas this year) 

My family and I are up in Utah, in a former mining town, for the holidays.

I have Arizona friends to thank for introducing me to Utah. When my daughter was in third grade, we came up here with another family to ski for President’s Day – and continued coming for years for my ski-mad children until finally my husband and I caved and bought a pocket-sized condo in 2009, as an investment property. 

The funny story is that we came up in the summer to furnish it and prepare it for the winter rental season. It being summer, with no skiing, I planned for us to stay only two weeks. I thought the kids would be bored and didn’t want to make them stay for more than necessary. 

Fool that I was. 

Just because there’s no skiing doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do. In fact, a common saying is, “Come for the winter, stay for the summer.” When it came time to leave – after two weeks of playground time, hiking, swimming, whitewater rafting, minigolf, ice cream, zip lines, and picnics – I went into the kids’ bunk room. Nine-year-old Julia was sitting on the bottom bunk, quietly sobbing. Five-year-old Kyle had flung his arms around the bunkbed post and was clinging to it, bellowing, “I’m!! Not!! Leaving!!!” 

Not surprisingly, we began to spend weeks in the summer, as long as we could, with the kids still in school. Now that they’re grown, my husband and I spend 4 months every summer, when Phoenix is blisteringly hot, up here in the mountains. The kids lobbied hard to spend Christmas, which we've done last year and this one.

It usually works out that we have snow anytime after December 15. Alas, we have mostly rain this year. But we’re still having fun, making vats of chili, ice skating at the rink, taking long walks, decorating our fake plant as a tree (see above), and sitting by the fire with our books. The important thing is that we’re together. And that I have comfortable flannel slippers.

What books did I bring with me for fireside reading? 

Matt Goldman, Carolina Moonset, which I just finished and thoroughly enjoyed. 46-year-old, divorced Joey Greene returns home to small town South Carolina, to check in on his parents. His father has been diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia, and as his father rambles about his long-term memories, clues to old unsolved murders surface. Atmospheric, with solid character development and fresh writing, this novel will please fans of William Kent Krueger's Edgar-winning Ordinary Grace. 

Maria Konnikova, The Confidence Game, which I’m halfway through. Journalist and psychologist Konnikova draws upon dozens of fascinating stories to explain the seven steps of a successful con, from choosing the mark to executing the "touch."  The book examines how our own deep desires -- to trust others, to believe we are smart enough to understand what we are seeing -- can make us complicit with the cons. The next book I'm writing, the sequel to An Artful Dodge, will have a con man in it ....  

Yangsze Choo, The Fox Wife. We’re reading this for bookclub next month, so I’ll be starting it after I finish the book about cons. It's set in Manchuria, 1908. A courtesan is found frozen in a doorway. Her death is clouded by rumors of foxes, which are believed to be able to transform themselves into people. Bao, a detective is hired to find the truth. Meanwhile, a family who owns a famous Chinese medicine shop is under a curse that kills their sons by age 24. A woman named Snow joins their household as a servant, and things begin to change ... 

What's your holiday read? 

Please share in the comments, as I'm always looking for another fabulous book!

I’m wishing you all a wonderful holiday season, with good cheer, good food, and good books, and I look forward to seeing you again in the New Year.