Ornamental 2024

Today I donned my jingle-socks, and my husband, my husky, and I put up the tree. Max the husky wasn’t much help, if I’m being honest (I can hear your gasps of surprise), but this is always one of the few parts of the holiday season I look forward to—in fact, it’s my favourite part. For those of you who’ve been around a while, or have read Handmade Holidays, this is also no surprise, because it’s the time of the year where I’m most reminded of so many wonderful things as we pull each tree decoration out of the box of ornaments.

Now, if you haven’t been around here before, I’ll give you the short(ish) version: way back when I first got myself a Christmas tree, I made a rather obvious mistake. It was the first year I was in a little bachelor pad of my own, and I was working holiday retail, and I was so very tired, so I forgive myself this mistake these days, even if back then I was really annoyed at myself. What was the mistake?

I didn’t own any ornaments.

Happy Holidays? Handmade Holidays is available in audiobook, performed by the wonderful Giancarlo Herrera.

If you’ve read Handmade Holidays, this will all sound familiar, and it was absolutely the inspiration for the novella itself. Things happened on a different time scale for Nick than for me, but the tree, the lack of ornaments, and some of the ornaments Nick receives in Handmade Holidays are all cribbed from my own life.

Back then, I set up this big ol’ Christmas tree (clearance, bought quite literally Christmas Eve, and dragged home on the bus) and… couldn’t decorate it. Or, rather, I could, but all I had at hand was candy canes—and one ornament. A friend had cross-stitched ornaments and put them in their Christmas cards, and so I had that. Together, it did not make for an impressive tree.

The next year, I was wise enough to have bought some basic (like, dollar-store) white ornaments and a spool of white ribbon and lights and so that year it looked better, but I also was gifted another ornament by a friend, and a tradition started. Every year I found an ornament for the tree. Some years, it was more than one—as my friends learned about this tradition quite a few of them started buying me ornaments as gifts—but year after year, when it comes time to decorate the tree, I get to relive all these wonderful (or sometimes sniff-inducing) memories.

When I met my husband, for a couple of years we had two trees—he liked themed trees—but then we got a dog, and there wasn’t room for two trees, but also by that point we’d been collecting ornaments together for a few years, and so it wasn’t just my memories going on the tree, but our memories. In fact, we’re at the point now where most of the ornaments are an “us” thing now, since we have both picked up the habit of looking for ornaments when we travel or have big life moments.

Ornamental

So, what were this year’s ornaments? Oddly enough, they were all about travel this year (or at least, that’s the case so far—there’s likely to be a stocking revelation or two on Christmas Day we can add to our tree). Way back at the start of the year, my husband went to Scotland with my sister-in-law and her wife on a scotch tasting tour, and since I (a) don’t drink and (b) could stay behind and look after the dog, I did just that. He had a great time, and although I’m not entirely sure what jellyfish have to do with distilleries, he picked up an adorable little fella to commemorate the trip.

I mean, he also got a bunch of whisky, obviously.

The next ornament was the flip-side: I got to go to Nottingham, UK for a literary festival, and while I was there, myself and fellow author Matt Bright (who is the genius artist Inkspiral Design behind the cover of Handmade Holidays up there, as well as the cover of Upon the Midnight Queer down below) went to this awesome gothic-themed craft fair that happened at the same time, and I found a little heart ornament (I know, not exactly gothic, but I did also pick up some kickass bookmarks with skulls and dragons and stuff). Given how much of the event weekend had been discussing romance, queer history, and community, that little “love” ornament seemed just about perfect to me.

I didn’t bring home any whisky though. I did bring home a bunch of great books from queer authors, though, which is way better unless you’re really into whisky.

Finally, my husband and I did actually go somewhere together this year, and we even brought the dog. We drove to the east coast of Canada and toured the Cabot Trail and at one point we stopped at this wonderful store specializing in Tartan where you could find your family lineage, and get incredibly well-designed and handmade kilts as well as other gorgeous and beautiful things for your home and while I could have purchased something gorgeous… instead I bought this Santa-in-a-rowboat ornament because it was the most joyfully awful ornament ever, and I know how much my husband loves these painfully awkward ornaments.

In fact, when I brought it into the car (where he was waiting for me with the aforementioned Max the husky) his gasp of joy made it perfectly clear I’d made the correct choice.

It’s the little things, truly. It wouldn’t be our tree if it didn’t have the tacky pride rainbows and queer fuchsia boot or winky the one-eyed fox or any of the other things that make this season our own.

Speaking of Making This Season Queer… Upon the Midnight Queer is available in ebook, paperback, and also in audiobook, performed by the brilliant Giancarlo Herrera and Hannah Schooner. I cannot tell you how much I love what they did with these stories.

Holiday tales, retold queerly…

A silk hat turns snow into life and a chance at love for a man with little hope of either. Two men with a connection sparked in passing attempt to withstand everything the tumultuous Toronto of 1981 throws their way, with their only remaining hope being Christmas Eve itself. A much-maligned queen of the snow teaches a young boy how to use his magic to find others of his kind. And a reindeer shines a light of its own, and with the help of the daughter of Father Time, brings gifts—and hope—to all those usually left behind.

Holiday magic connects these tales and more—tales heard and seen and sung before, familiar and joyous, or tender and bittersweet—all to the last told upon the midnight queer.

Upon the Midnight Queer is the second short story collection from Lambda Literary Award finalist ’Nathan Burgoine, and includes the brand new Little Village Holiday Novella, “Folly.”