Friday, December 30, 2011

An Original Millers Kill Short Story: Away in a Manger

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Here at Jungle Red Writers, we discuss about as wide-ranging set of topics as you might hope to find. But let's face it, a certain amount of blogging time will be devoted to pushing our novels. In my case, my publisher is reissuing my backlist - my old books - in spiffy new trade paperback editions, complete with new artwork, interviews, reading group guides, etc., etc. The first one, In the Bleak Midwinter, is releasing January 3rd.

To help spread the word, Minotaur is also offering In the Bleak Midwinter in ebook format for only $2.99. Then at the end of January, they're offering the second in the series for $2.99 as well. At the end of February - you got it, the third ebook gets marked down to $2.99. This is a shameless ploy not dissimilar to the cigarette companies giving away thousands of packs of free smokes to the GIs during WWII. Their goal, and mine, is to turn you into slavering addicts, eager to rush out and buy every book in the series. (The only health warning attached to my mysteries, of course, is that you risk staying up all night if you start a book in the evening.)

But if the ebook sells the trade paperback, what sells the ebook? How about a free, original short story, set in the fictional Adirondack town of Millers Kill? I've been releasing a series of Christmas-themed flash fiction on my personal blog (you can find the first two here and here.) Yes, Christmas day is over, but good Episcopalians like the Rev. Clare Fergusson know Christmas is a season that runs until January 6th. So: set after my fourth book, To Darkness and to Death:

Away in a Manger
by Julia Spencer-Fleming




The fourth Sunday in Advent. The last of the four weeks of preparation before the feast of Christmas. The vestment and altar colors are Sarum blue or purple. The collect begins, “Purify our conscience, Almighty God, by your daily visitation...” And in St. Alban's, Millers Kill, it was time for the Christmas pageant.

“Sydney, hold still.” The Reverend Fergusson struggled to tie a donkey-eared hat beneath the chin of a wriggling three year old.

“I want wings!” the little girl yelled. “I want angel wings!”

Ned Donovan, who had taken on the thankless job of directing the pageant, leaned down. “Sydney, you didn't learn the angel song. You learned the animal song. Won't it be fun to sing it right up next to baby Jesus?”

“I want wings!”

Clare Fergusson looked over to where the last of the angelic choir were suiting up in satin sacks and tinsel halos. “Can't you stick her in an angel costume? It doesn't really matter if she sings or not.”

He sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Come on, Sydney, let's get you changed. You can be an angel.”

“No!” The child's shriek was even louder. “I'm a donkey! With angel wings!”

Ned looked at Clare and spread his hands.

She nodded. “Jesus is a Bitty Baby doll and two of the three kings are girls. I don't think a winged donkey will be stretching it too much.”

“Okay, then. Come on, Sydney. Let's get your wings on.”

Clare left the other volunteers – mostly moms – to herd the cast out of the Sunday school room and into the church for their final rehearsal. She sprinted ahead to the sanctuary, where two dads were muscling the stable roof onto its cross-barred supports. The manger was already in place in front of the altar, with two bales of real hay thoughtfully provided for Mary and Joseph to sit. One of the benefits of being in a small, rural town. She was checking to make sure the two microphones were turned on when she spotted the tall man coming through the narthex doors.

It was Russ Van Alstyne.

Her stomach bottomed out. She replaced the mike in its stand and walked steadily down the aisle. He was in civvies, instead of his police uniform. “Chief Van Alstyne,” she said. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Reverend Fergusson.” He paused, then looked past her, frowning. “I didn't expect so many people here.”

“It's a church. At Christmastime.” He gave her a look, and she relented. “This is the day we have our Christmas pageant The kids do a dress rehearsal at nine and perform it at the ten o'clock Eucharist.”

“Ah.” He glanced around at the stone pillars and arched windows of St. Alban's. “No Christmas decorations?”

“It's still Advent. We'll green the church later this afternoon. Did you come here to check out the holiday d├ęcor?” She tugged Russ to one side as Nathan Andernach pushed his way through the narthex door. She smiled and waved at the verger. “Perhaps I can get you a schedule of the services?”

“I'm not going to be in town for Christmas.”

“Oh. You're--” her voice faltered. “You won't?”

Russ looked around again. The pageant kids were shuffling in the side door to the church, in roughly their order of appearance. They would process down the north aisle, up the center of the sanctuary, and take their seats in the front pew, hopefully without the youngest getting distracted or taking stage fright. “Is there some place we could go for a little privacy? Your office?”

She shook her head. “I need to be here.” She swallowed. She had a feeling she didn't want to hear whatever it was he was going to say. “Could we meet after services? I have an hour or so before the greening.” She paused for a moment, because she rarely invited him into her home, but if he needed privacy-- “You could come to the rectory.”

He looked down at his boots. “God. I wish I could. But I'll be gone. I'm leaving—we're leaving for Montreal. I have to be at the train station in an hour.”

Montreal.” With his wife. Of course.

We're going for a week. Linda has this idea--” he turned and faced her for the first time, “--you know we're in marriage therapy.”

Clare nodded.

Linda has this idea that we need time away together. Sort of a...” his voice trailed off.

A second honeymoon.”

His lips tightened. “The therapist says it's a good thing, to break out of our usual rhythms.”

Yes.”

Montreal will be beautiful at Christmas.”

Yes.”

We've got Duane and Tim coming in to cover the extra patrols. So they won't even notice I'm gone at the station.”

Yes.”

I don't want to go.” His voice was a whisper. “A whole week without seeing you or talking with you--” he removed his glasses and wiped his hand over his eyes. “Christ, I sound like a whiny little kid, don't I?”

The real little kids had assembled in their pews. Mary and Gabriel were taking their places as the narrator – one of the teens in the youth group – read, “In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth...”

No,” Clare said. “You sound like a man gearing up to do the right thing.”

I want to fix my marriage. I swear to God I do. But I can't just turn off these feelings.” He reached toward her. “Clare, I--”

Don't say it.” She wrapped her arms around herself, “Please don't say it. It doesn't help.”

He let his hand drop.

In front of the altar, Gabriel spread her wings flamboyantly. “HAIL, oh FAVORED one, the LORD is WITH you!”

That's great.” Ned Donovan's voice drifted up the aisle toward them. “Maybe a little less...dramatic?”

Russ snorted. “Sounds like she's understudying for Evita.”

Clare smiled a little. “The angel of the annunciation and the Fear-not angel tend to be played by the less, um, reticent children.”

Did you do this when you were a kid?”

Oh, yes.”

What part did you play?”

She smiled outright at him. “All of them. I started as a cow and worked my way up through shepherd, angel choir, king's page, king and both speaking angel roles to reach the pinnacle of Christmas pageant success – Mary.”

“Where do you go after you've been Mary?”

She gestured to her black clericals. “As you see, I had to enter the priesthood.”

He smiled a little. “God, I love you.”

Clare shook her head. She felt a hot pricking behind her eyes. At the front of the church, Mary stood up. Bits of hay stuck to the backside of her blue robe. “Behold,” she said. “I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

“It doesn't matter what you feel or what I feel.” Clare kept her eyes on the rehearsal. “What matters is what we do. I'm going to get through the fourth Sunday of Advent and two services on Christmas eve and another one on Christmas morning. You're going to go to Montreal with your wife and put all your effort into closing the gap between the two of you.”

She glanced at him. He was facing the rehearsal as well. He nodded, a sort of jerk of the chin. “Yeah. You're right.”

A four-foot-high centurion marched to the center of the aisle and unrolled a scroll. “A decwee fwom Caesah Augustus and Quiwinius, govewnah of Sywia. All the wowld shall be taxed.”

“Low bar for auditions?” Russ said.

“No auditions. Everybody plays a part if they want to.”

“Yeah.” He turned to her. He did not touch her. “Merry Christmas, Clare.”

She didn't try to smile. She could at least be honest with her face. “Merry Christmas, Russ.” She didn't watch him as he left, but she felt the push of cold wind at her back when he passed through the narthex. At the front of the church, the animals gathered by the manger. There were two cows, a dog, a cat, one duck and something striped that was either a zebra or a tiger. And there was a donkey. With wings.

“Away in a manger, no crib for his bed.” They were in tune, more or less. “The little lord Jesus lay down his sweet head.”

Clare started down the aisle. It doesn’t matter what you feel. It matters what you do. “The stars in the sky looked down where he lay,” she sang. “The little lord Jesus, asleep in the hay.”



Want to try that $2.99 ebook? You can get one at ebooks.com, at Amazon, at Kobo, at B&N, at the Sony Reader Store and at iTunes.

25 comments:

Lucy Burdette said...

This is great news Julia--congratulations! They are very smart to take this path. And love the story too!

Gail The Reading Lady said...

Loved it! That filled in the gap nicely between the two books. I am loving these short stories. You are so sweet to your fans who beg you for more, more, more! Guess that is what you get for being such a fantastic writer and for making these characters so real! I know these "flash fiction" pieces have been hard to do with the holidays. Thank you for loving us so much!!! Happy New Year!

Tammy said...

I only wish I could buy them all again and discover them fresh. Fun story!

Hank Phillippi Ryan said...

Oh, how wonderful..on all levels. Tammy, I'm with you..and Gail, you are so right.

Julia, if you have time..how does your brain work for these shorter stories? Do you have a burst of an idea..then sit down at the computer? Or does it ruminate a while?

Happy New Year, all!

Jody said...

Great short story! I'm already an addict with your books, but may be tempted to add them to my Kindle too.

Anonymous said...

Great short story--thank you. So excited about the ebook offers. Already have all your books but want them on my Kindle also. I'm weird that way....

Julia said...

Thanks, all! And Hank, these short stories are incredibly easy to write because they have no mystery plots. Not much plot at all, really. It turns out I can write very quickly if I'm not trying to figure out clever ways to kill people and hide the evidence!

cmgrob said...

Loved the short story... like many I am having a problem waiting for the next book. Thank you for the ebook offers - since most of my books are now on my Nook this will make it SO much easier to have ongoing access to Claire and Russ!

Reine said...

Julia, this is wonderful! Thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you! I have just learned about flash fiction, and I now realize I love it! xo

Reine said...

PS: Just downloaded IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER. Thanks to you and Minotaur. xoxo

paulabuck said...

So wonderful! Congratulations!

Deb said...

Love the story, Julia! Makes me want to go back and reread the books it falls between, just to see where it fits. I think the short stories and the e-book releases are a great idea!

And aren't the short stories fun? I have one coming out in a couple of weeks, my first ever. It's called Nocturne, and like your Christmas stories, takes place in the gap between books.

Hank Phillippi Ryan said...

OH, yes,isn't it the the strangest? I have the real books and the Kindle editions, too. And it makes total sense.

Jonathan and I can read at the same time, I can take the kindle if I don't want to carry a book--I love the double availability. Sadly.

And yes, Julia, the whole plot thing makes it a bit easier, but the stories still must have a POINT, and a realization of some kind, you know?

Silver James said...

Oh, Julia! What a tale and it brought back such memories of All Saints Episcopal when I was growing up. I loved this short story and as soon as my book budget refills, I am doing some serious shopping to replenish your books on my Kindle!

LOL! My spam word is "soliked". Perfect! I soooo liked this little story!

Anne said...

Another wonderful short story! I do so love your writings. Thank you soooooooo much...

Julia said...

Hank,

Yes, but the point in these little stories is, as my seventeen-year-old son likes to say, "feelings and stuff." No worrying about getting the gun caliber correct!

Linda Rodriguez said...

I love it, Julia! I've really enjoyed the short stories You've given us this season.

So pleased to hear that your earlier books are being reissued in trade paper. I have people I want to give them to in order to hook them on the series. Because I've lost so many books through lending them, I just won't lend my great favorites anymore. I buy one to give instead.

Happy New Year! It's clear that 2012 is going to be a wonderful year for you already from this news, but I hope it will be packed with even more wonderful things for you and the family!

Buckeyetravelers said...

Thanks for the story. We had recently gotten out the family picture albums for my daughter's husband to see and had remarked on all the Christmas pageant photos. The connections to these important parts of our spiritual lives are one thing I appreciate about this series.

lil Gluckstern said...

Having read all your books, I had tears in my eyes at the end of the story. I'm Jewish but the story of the Christchild has always touched me, and you did the children so well. Claire is a remarkable character.

Laura in PA said...

I'm already a slathering addict, and have turned my sister into one as well. Now I'm trying to convince myself that I don't really NEED all your books in ebook as well as hard copy. Thanks for the short story; I love the juxtaposition of the serious conversation and the cute kids.

M. Joanne Meury said...

Had to wait for my return to Colorado to experience this wonderful short story. So good to have met you and the angels, & to have seen the Cathedral.

Ramblings from the Edge said...

I teared up reading this...I feel silly..but it really hit me.

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