In which it is Holly’s turn

For the month of December–with bonus posts on November 30 and January 1!–I am delighted to welcome a wonderful assortment of guest bloggers to take over the helm. Please enjoy their generous contributions to the blog this month. My own bloggery will resume January 2. I wish you and yours happiness and health this holiday season. Please note: comments are disabled until my return.

Please welcome Holly!

In which I started several blog posts, deleted them, and drank wine instead…

I nearly jumped at the chance when the lovely Mrs. Deanna Raybourn asked for guests to write for her blog so she could tuck in to December with a few good books, and hopefully quite a bit of tea. But as soon as I saw my name listed so permanently on her site that night, I panicked ever so slightly.

Fright aside, let me introduce myself: my name is Holly Faur. I love to create and meander in the fictional universe, especially historical fiction, but as far as plain ‘ole me goes I have nothing particularly witty or notable to say. In fact, I’m probably reading all the other brilliant guest blogs right now with equal parts green-eyed envy and giddy delight. While I spent much of my childhood moving about; to Germany and back, living in the Rockies and near both oceans, nowadays I don’t travel much. Unless it’s a three hour trip to a bookstore. I live in the sometimes dreadfully wintry, sometimes incredibly sunny state of Michigan surrounded by lovely, glistening blue. I’m a mom, a writer, and a Dr. Who lover. I also cook, and clean. Lots of cleaning here.

I began writing several other blog ideas, and all quickly went into the trash bin. Then one day, scrolling through my notes and outlines and query letter formats (I’m in the trenches of the dreaded query stages; a few full manuscript requests, fingers crossed) with a wine glass in hand, I found a letter I began writing to my oldest son last year. I re-read it, then, after a bit of tweaking and updating to fit his ten-year-old bad self, I decided to share. Because it’s me.

We are a bit nerdy, him and I, and so I must apologize heavily in advance. He seems to get me though, and most importantly these days, I get him. Kinda.

Happy winter,

Holly Faur

(If I were fancy, I’d place a link to my Twitter here. But, I’m not.)

P.S. I don’t like to share my little Avenger’s names, but I’ll tell you I have three Irish lads and one bonnie lass.

Hello Sweetie,

I just wanted to write and tell you how much I love you.

I want you to wake up every day and know I think you are absolutely brilliant, and smart, and funny, and one of the very best humans in the universe. And because I am your mother I will always think these things; there is no stopping me.

As you get older and things start to change, like friends or schools or feelings, I want you to remember to stay true to yourself. Remember who you are, and who you want to be. Remember who you love and who is cheering you on in life (me!! pick me!!).

When friends ask you to do things you know you shouldn’t, remember the timeless advice of Dr. Who and Run. Run all the way to Gallifrey (just stop and pick me up first).

If someone needs help, help them like you are the only one capable of saving their planet – you just might be. Stick up for the kids being picked on – you may be their only hero.

You will be teased. You will be made fun of about things – like what you like to read or how you dress, or even how you wear your hair. Kids will laugh when a certain girl catches your eye. Just ignore them. Girls will be mean, too, but they’ll probably get over it. Just remember how much Annabeth disliked Percy Jackson in the beginning. Remember that if someone cannot respect you, what they think doesn’t count – not really. If someone is truly your friend, they will like all of you, even the silly things. The silly things make you extraordinarily fantastic. No one is the same and no one is perfect. This is what makes each of us like no one else in creation.

If you mess up and the world feels like it’s going to end, I’ll tell you a secret I’ve learned; it isn’t. We have all made a nice muddle of things at one time or another. I have messed up, your grandparents have messed up, and your friends have even messed up. When you find you have accidently, or even purposely, done something to cause a terrible Series of Unfortunate Events, remember that if Frodo Baggins can climb to the top of Mount Doom and destroy The Ring, bringing peace to all of Middle Earth, so can you. Say the truth and make a plan to make it right.

Sometimes you will turn into the Hulk. Everyone does at one time or another. I don’t advise punching anyone, even puny gods- that can get you into big, green trouble. Go for a walk, wrestle your pillow, read a book. And when you’ve shrunk back down to Banner size, I’m here to listen. You will also- gasp- get angry with me. You might even hate me. Congratulations, you are normal (actually, I’m not entirely convinced you aren’t from another dimension). We will get through this, too.

Mom and Dad will embarrass you. Sorry, but it’s true…though certainly not on purpose. I will always kiss and hug you in front of your friends, and I vow to forever talk like I’ve just spent a splendid holiday in Yorkshire whilst wearing my Wellies when I read to your English class. Dad will probably never stop asking if you have a clean shirt on, and this will undoubtedly always happen in front of your girlfriend. Be prepared for this, for as we get older, we will likely do even crazier things. Parents (everywhere) always act a little strangely when they are watching their children grow; we’ve been perpetually cursed by the Confundus spell – we can’t help it.

For the love of libraries; always read the book.

Finally; always, always remember you can talk to us. We will listen, even if we have no idea what you are talking about (like Minecraft, I mean, what the heck is a creeper anyway?). We will always try to understand. We promise to try our very best to help (back to that embarrassing you thing again). Sometimes, you will feel like you just can’t tell us something. This has been known to happen and that’s ok too; just pick an adult that you do trust and tell them.

You are (totally awesome Irish name here). Awesome son, Jedi in training, brilliant reader. (I just have to let you know; Microsoft Word auto capitalized Jedi. The force is strong with this word processor.)You are kind, you are thoughtful and respectful, and you are so very clever. And there is no one I’d rather face off against Voldemort or Apophis, the Buggers or the Daleks, (or even just your math homework) than you.

 In case some days you forget it; I love you. Even more than Dean Winchester loves his1967 Impala, and we all know that’s a lot.

Live long and prosper,

Mom