Tag: writing

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 8

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Dan felt the way he used to feel on Christmas morning—wide-eyed, excited, and unsure whether he was dreaming or not. He was about to go for a sleigh ride with Mrs. Claus!  “Sometimes the things that are real are more difficult to believe in than those things that are not,” Mrs. Claus provided. “I can tell you’re as excited as a Christmas sweater!” Dan wasn’t used to smiling much lately, but he couldn’t help it. “It’s the Christmas magic!” Mrs. Claus explained. 

She was just finishing with strapping the horses onto Santa’s retired sleigh. “We can’t have the reindeer. They are all in Toy Town, so we get the horses,” she explained while patting the side of one of the horses. “Isn’t that right, Sugarplum?” She turned to another horse. “Oh what a sweetheart you are, Chestnut.”

From its looks, you could tell the sleigh had been on many successful Christmas journeys. Its red coat of paint was flaking off, but its gold rounded trim was as brilliant and shiny as ever, curving about like the careful elegant penmanship of an old-world craftsman who believed beauty mattered, even in the cold. The runners were long and hand-forged. Their once-bright steel dulled to a soft, pewter shine, worn smooth by decades of snow packed hard as sugar. Closely, one could still see faint scratches—little stories etched in metal—from frozen rooftops and hurried landings. Despite its beauty, and the lavish praise one could bestow upon it, time truly had taken its toll on the old sleigh, and it was falling apart. It was rough, but Mrs. Claus still had faith that it would take them down to Toy Town. She gave a swift kick to one of the runners with her boot, to force it back in place. “Ready,” she declared. “Hop aboard!” Dan quietly stepped up into the sleigh. The leather seat was patched and re-patched, smelling faintly of saddle soap and peppermint, sagging just a bit in the middle where Santa had sat so many Christmas Eves. 

Dan was very quiet, because he was deep in thought. Despite making observations of the sleigh, he couldn’t stop thinking of the “rebel elf” he had just met. He wondered if he’d ever see him again. The half-elf-half-human in some ways reminded Dan of himself–, discontent and longing for more. He also felt they shared a similar feeling of being displaced and not really belonging in their situations. The “rebel elf” felt out of place in the North Pole per his part human nature. Dan felt out of place with his aunt, feeling as though he should be with his mom and dad, and that his life should look more like that of Dakota’s. It just wasn’t the way it should be, at least in his mind.

“This is so exciting!” said Mrs. Claus with much enthusiasm, clapping her hands like the wings of a fluttering butterfly. “I haven’t been to Toy Town in quite a while. I’ve been afraid of being a bother, but now that you are here, I have a wonderful excuse! You just have to see Toy Town! It’s the most marvelous place on Earth! Santa will be so glad that you are here…” 

The sleigh ride was absolutely breathtaking. The moon shown out on the sea of snow and ice, and stars bragged their distance. Before, Dan had thought that the North Pole was entirely ice. He was right, ignoring the one exception: Between Santa Claus Lane and Toy Town anything was possible. Even in the year-round winter and arctic temperatures, pine trees created a forest. Mrs. Claus would explain matter-of-factly that it was the result of magic. Amidst these forests lived creatures of all kinds. There were deer, rabbits, wolves, foxes, bears, snow sprites, starlingers, and pinekins, as well as frost hounds, bandersnatchers, snowshades and other monsters of the night.

As the sleigh swiftly glided through the forest, between the silent pine trees, Dan saw deer gracefully prancing on cushions of snow. Over a glistening glass pond, a host of snow sprites painted the sky. Their lights twinkled reflections on the frozen pond.  In a clearing, Dan saw a mother polar bear directing her cubs, nudging them kindly, while a starlinger caught a shooting star in a burlap sack. In every view on this North Pole safari, there was life, each creature decorating its own niche. It was surreal, as the mythical had breached reality. 

Looking up, Dan saw endless stars and the aurora borealis rip and ribbon across the sky in chilling beauty. He took in a deep breath of the cool pine-rich air and sunk back into the leather seat, amazed. Though there was great excitement, there was also a rich peace Dan felt, and also a sense of adventure taking spark within him. He wanted to jump off the sleigh and just go explore, but he knew it really wasn’t a good idea. He had to finish this trip with Mrs. Claus and did not want to miss out on meeting Santa in Toy Town. Earlier, when this was said, he was unsure this would really pan out, unsure he believed in Santa, but after meeting the elves and seeing the magic of this forest, there was no doubt left that all was real.

“This is one of my favorite places in the whole world,” shared Mrs. Claus. “Back in the day when I used to write poetry, I would come out here all bundled up and rest against any tree and just let nature inspire me.” She proceeded with a few lines of her poetry taken to memory: 

Thick white frosting, spread with care,

Left not a single crevice bare

As skillful winds form works of art,

White magic to the scene imparts

A soft and graceful elegance! ” 

She continued, “Then sometimes, if I was in the mood, I’d hold a good conversation with a polar bear or let a snow sprite try to teach me to fly.”

“How come you don’t do that anymore?” asked Dan.

“A lady like me could never fly like a snow sprite. No need to be so gracious, Daniel.” Mrs. Claus took one hand off the reins to intentionally place it on her belly laughing in response to her own remark. “Too many Christmas cookies here.” Then she turned to Dan with serious eyes and an immediate change in tone. “Everything is different now.” Her eyes widened. “The forest has gotten far too dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” Dan was slightly spooked by her remark and change of tone.

“There are new creatures in these woods that could cause death within seconds. Maybe one day you’ll learn more about them… but no need to worry you now on Christmas Eve.”

Dan looked at Mrs. Claus, waiting for more. She knew she wasn’t going to say anything more on the topic, so she reached for another. “So, how do you celebrate on Christmas morn?” she asked. Before she gave Dan enough time to gather his own answer, she gave her own response. “Santa, you see, is always late for Christmas, because he is finishing up his route. I know he has a lot to do, and works very hard, but he’s been known to dilly and even dally on Christmas Eve. So while we are waiting on him, the elves in training, and I, we deck the halls and prepare a big celebration with a feast and as much music as we can find. It’s probably one of the greatest things that happens throughout the entire year!” Mrs. Claus paused. “What is it that you do on Christmas?” she asked again.

“Open presents.”

“Open presents? Why, everyone opens presents on Christmas. Isn’t there anything else to your celebration? How do you celebrate?”

“Celebration?” Dan paused to think. “I know how you guys are celebrating all the presents being delivered and that accomplishment, but for me, I don’t have much to celebrate. Presents are nice, but Christmas just isn’t the same without my parents.” Dan’s mind raced back to his thoughts on the school bus the prior morning. “Christmas reminds me of them…” Oh, no, I promised myself not to talk about this. Dan decided to hurry things up and not dig a deeper hole. “… I just have a lot of heavy thoughts at Christmas. I mean, I still love Christmas. I think it’s a great thing, but I just don’t have anything to celebrate right now.”

“I am so sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Claus replied, “but, you, my friend, have a lot to learn.”

“Really? Like what?” a sliver of defensiveness made it into his tone.

Mrs. Claus displayed a gentle smile and emitted a thoughtful hum. “The celebration, you see, is that of Christ Jesus’ birth.”

Just after those words were said Dan’s mind jumped back to his conversations in the day with Linzy and Dakota. They had said similar things. Are they all in cahoots to try and change my view of Christmas? Dan quickly analyzed his conspiracy. Since when are there rebel elves, mythical forest creatures, and a Mrs. Claus talking about Jesus as if she had been talking with Dakota? Dan didn’t realize it, but he figured he must have expressed some sort of doubt, or maybe his silence was enough for Mrs. Claus to address him again. “Daniel, I am most sincere. The real meaning behind Christmas is Jesus’ birth, and that is most worthy of our celebration.”

“I don’t mean to be rude…” Dan replied, with a bit of hesitancy in how to say what he wanted “…but what’s so special about Jesus?” He didn’t like the way that came out. “I mean, I don’t know much about him. I know he was a great person, but I don’t think he’s the super-man some people make him out to be.”

“You’re wrong,” plainly replied Mrs. Claus, “…and Jesus not only was, but also is.”

“I don’t think so. I can’t believe in things that I haven’t seen,” Dan defended.

“That’s not true,” said Mrs. Claus. “Do you not believe in the wind, for you cannot see it, only feel it? Do you not believe in night, for you cannot see it, you just know it to always be there? All you see is the dark sky. What about love? Do you believe in love? Oh, how sad! It also is something you cannot see, just feel.”

“Those are all very different things,” Dan critiqued. He was getting uncomfortable with this conversation. He never liked to talk about God, because it was confusing for him. He felt he should know more than he did, and he wanted to know, but he had no idea of where to begin, so it also brought forth a keen and subtle sense of embarrassment. 

While Dan was thinking about how to change the topic of the conversation, Mrs. Claus carried on in a trail of thoughts: “When it comes to God, you can’t really see Him, but you can see Him reflected in His creation all around and in the spirit of love and generosity at Christmas. You’ll feel Him if you open your heart to Him,” explained Mrs. Claus.

“I’ll believe in God when I see Him.” concluded Dan. “Now, can we talk about something else?” 

Mrs. Claus was silent for a moment, thinking of how to respond. She found it a shame that Dan didn’t want to stay on the topic. “Sure, we can talk about anything else. What suits your fancy?”

“Tell me more about Toy Town,” Dan suggested.

“Toy Town is where all the toys are made for every good boy and girl. There are factories and warehouses filled with assembly lines and machines, cranes and carts and creativity, and lots of sleds. And most importantly, it’s where Santa spends most of his time along with the majority of the elves. Over the course of the year, with the help of the Christmas magic, billions of toys are produced. Toy Town has to be the second most magnificent place on earth.”

The horses trodding slowed down as the sleigh emerged from the forest. Just a small plain of snow remained before the towering buildings of Toy Town, a metropolis sticking out upon the tundra. 

Something so big and grandiose was unexpected. Huge elegant skyscrapers tickled the clouds, looking like they were dreamed up by someone who fell asleep in a warm blanket. The tallest buildings were stacked like giant toy blocks, each level a different cheerful color, softened by frost so all the windows, circle and square, glowed with comfort. Many buildings had sled ramps, where tiny delivery sleighs glided in and out like birds at birdhouses. Other buildings had the metallic cylindrical appearance of silos but were pointed and punched with cozy star-shaped windows, looking like giant tin lanterns. Inside each one were ticking clocks, humming machines, and the most skillful elves busily about their work. Steam curled from chimneys near the rooftops, carrying the smell of hot cocoa, glue and pain, and warm metal. The northern lights danced overhead, the tin towers quietly reflecting their colors, making the whole city look like it was breathing light.

A few buildings even wore hats—pointed roofs with bells, spires, or giant snowballs looking as if shaped by hand, and every skyscraper leaned just a little as if listening. 

Then…

“Look!” Mrs Claus hurriedly blurted out and pointed. Dan shifted his attention to the right, where he saw a large boxy building on the side of town up in flames with dark sheets of smoke. “We must go!” 

Mrs. Claus took off running in haste, Dan ran at her side. He wanted to be fast, noting the urgency in Mrs. Claus’ voice, but he had to slow himself down to match her pace, taking long slow strides, while she panted and scurried. The closer they drew to the building, the worse things seemed to be. Elves ran about in every direction, with their hands up in the air in a frenzy. The cracking sound of the burning building filled the air. Crowds of distressed elves and reindeer were growing thick. There seemed to be a little pocket in the crowd where elves had stepped aside and a large character in red stood in the middle.

“Oh, honey!” Mrs. Claus called out, in relief to see her husband unharmed, but also in sympathy for the tragedy before them.

In some ways Santa looked just as Dan would have suspected. He was broad shouldered and round, with a thick velvety red coat and hat, and a big black buckle around his waist. His most prominent features were his naturally rosey cheeks and his white beard which spilled down his front like fresh fallen snow. In other ways, Santa was not as imagined, for he was not jolly nor jovial. Instead, on his face he wore frustration and panic. He darted in one direction and then another, his heavy boots stomping into the snow. From his mouth came grumbled murmurs. Santa’s otherwise beautiful outfit, showed the turmoil of the day, with the white fringes of his coat singed by fire, looking like burnt marshmallows, and his hat dishevely hanging on for dear life atop his head. 

As Santa paced back and forth in thought about his next decision, Mrs. Claus tried to comfort him with an embrace. Looking over her shoulder, Santa noticed Dan. His eyes immediately lit up.

“Daniel!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands out in welcome, a smile overtaking his face.  “We’ve been expecting you. I apologize for such an unpleasant first impression.” Leaving Mrs. Claus, he grasped one of Dan’s hands with two of his. “It is delightful to meet you. Pardon us, for this Christmas season has not been working out just right. We have had our share of problems today.” 

Santa looked over to Mrs. Claus. Under his breath he asked, “This is the human from your magic trap, isn’t it?” he inquired. 

“Yes,” Mrs. Claus smiled. Santa turned back to Dan. 

“Have you ever heard of a magic trap?” He inquired.

“I can’t say I have,” Dan replied.

“When Mrs. Claus gets her hands on Christmas magic, you never know what’s gonna happen. She, and some of the elves back up on Santa Claus Lane, placed a magic trap. I know a trap sounds like a bad thing, but a magic trap is a very good thing. It’s precautionary really, a portal sown in the seams of dimension and space. A magic trap will only catch a human, if it’s destiny, if the situation requires it, if it’s meant to be. You’re meant to be here, Daniel.”

“What about the Toy Shop?” Mrs. Claus cupped her hands over her heart as if holding its broken pieces together. “What a loss,” she said as she watched the buildings burn in flames. 

“There’s not much we can do now. It’s too late we’ve determined. It’s going to burn to the ground. A bunch of the elves are already out there with marshmallow sticks making smores. I told them to get away. It’s not safe. It’s going to be tumbling down soon.” 

“What happened?” Mrs. Claus inquired. 

“Well…” Santa grabbed Mrs. Claus and Dan by the hands and guided them through the crowds of elves. So many elves were trying to ask Santa questions and were crowding around him. He wanted space to breathe and talk to his company. Once outside the crowds, he switched back and forth looking at Daniel and Mrs. Claus squarely in the eyes and explained: 

“The trouble started this morning. I was in the Nutcracker Building, working on planning out the flight for tonight, when all of the sudden I heard an explosion not far in the distance. I looked out my office window and there across the street was the Toy Shop Factory bursting into flames. By the time the fire-elves arrived, it was too late. The structural integrity was gone. The toys had already melted on their shelves. It was all over. The elves are saying that the half-elf, Jason Hawthorne, left the Toy Shop unlocked overnight, and so Jack Frost, naturally, let himself in, dosed the place in gasoline, and lit a match.” Santa paused to huff and shake his head. “Who would have thought he’d get into fire? You’d think he would have frozen the place. Then we could have at least thawed the place out,” Santa sighed. “And, that half-elf is driving me insane. Just wait til I have a word with him.”

“Oh, honey.” This time Mrs. Claus’ address was one of disapproval. “We all make mistakes.”

“Well not mistakes that cause us Christmas.” His words seemed to come biting back. He turned around and directed, “Follow me.” He motioned with his hands. Santa quickly led Mrs. Claus and Dan back into the crowds and out onto a city street. There on a corner, by one of the many spiraling striped candy cane lantern poles, laid a sorry looking reindeer with a red nose. A few concerned elves were attending to him.

“It’s Rudolph. He isn’t feeling well. The elves brought him to me,” Santa explained. “He hasn’t been able to fly all day.” He petted the reindeer on the top of his head. “They say he hasn’t been able to get up at all and has been vomiting what looks like boughs of holly.”

“Boughs of holly? How did the reindeer get into that? I was going to deck the halls with those,” explained Mrs. Claus.

“Well, I told all the elves, and even Jason Hawthorne, specifically not to feed the reindeers holly, but apparently he didn’t listen to me.”

“Jason Hawthorne?” Mrs. Claus raised the name like a question.

“He’s the same elf who is responsible for my Toy Shop in flames. The one who also invited the abominable snowman over for breakfast. Yes, Jason Hawthorne.” He said the name as if it was some sort of curse word. 

“Oh, I know who you are talking about.” Mrs. Claus sighed, “Oh boy.”

“We all know, and for all the wrong reasons.” Santa gave out another big huff, and looked back down at Rudolph, giving him a comforting pat on the head. “Hang in their Rudolph. I really am counting on you to guide my sleigh tonight.” 

The poor animal, though a reindeer, seemed to wear puppy eyes begging for help. His ears dropped down, and his red nose was actually not so bright but dull, looking like he needed a change of batteries. He shivered, as overcome by sickly chills. 

“Take Rudolph over to Hollyhoof. See that he is attended to the rest of the day. Get him our best doctor, and whatever he wants. and keep him warm.” Santa instructed. 

“Yes, sir.” A small group of elves picked up Rudolph in their arms and carried him away.

Santa, with his head hung low declared, “I need a peppermint hot cocoa. Follow me.” He guided Mrs. Claus and Dan down the street, elves panickingly attended business all around hauling things. Santa ushered his wife and Dan into the Jolly Mug.

Mrs. leaned in to whisper to Dan as they entered the cafe. “This is the ‘dilly-dally’. The Toy Shop is on fire and Rudolph is sick, yet we are stopping for hot chocolate.”

Here there was peace and quiet aside from the subtle grinding sound of coffee beans, cacao nibs, and peppermint sticks;  the occasional pouring of hot beverages into cozy mugs; and wooden chairs sliding up to tables. The three of them took a seat in the front window nook around a small table. Santa cupped his hands around his Christmas tree mug, as if that peppermint cocoa was the most valuable thing worth protecting at the moment. He gave it a gentle sip and looked out the frosted windows. Then he continued to explain: 

“I don’t know why Jack Frost is still so mad at me that he would burn down the Toy Shop. All I told him was to stop nipping on everyone’s nose. In return, millions of toys are melted.” He paused and took another gentle sip of his cocoa. “I take that back! I do know what Jack Frost’s problem is. He’s jealous. He still is harboring jealousy that I am Father Christmas and he is not. He is jealous I gained control over the North Pole and that all the children turn their Christmas lists into me. He wants the elves to report to him, not me. We don’t do presents for fame, but that’s what he wants. He is self-consumed, and he’s been at the top of the naughty list for a very long time.”

“It is far more than a mere pity. It’s an abomination,” added Mrs. Claus.

“I know, but once you start to harbor jealousy, it’s hard to get rid of it. It’s like a disease. One day I just know it’s going to finish him off.”

“So, what have you done?” asked Mrs. Claus, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Did the elves make all new toys?”

“No, that is impossible. We still don’t have enough toys to deliver tonight, and the Toy Shop is still on fire.”

“So what are we going to do?” Mrs. Claus was concerned. 

“Well, we have Daniel now.”

Catching him off guard, Dan inhaled a sip of cocoa down the wrong pipe and coughed to regain his voice and breath. “Me?” He questioned. What could they possibly want with me?

“Do you have any experience with time machines,” Santa asked. 

Mrs. Claus butted in with wide eyes in disbelief of what she just heard. “That thing has been broken for years.” 

“No, I don’t have any experience with time machines. ” Dan was certain of his response. 

“Perfect,” Santa replied, sounding sincere rather than sarcastic. 

“But…”

“No buts about it, buddy boy. You fell into the magic trap for a reason. Daniel, you’re here to help us save Christmas.” 

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Chapter 9 Coming Soon!

My Two New Poetry Audiobooks!

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Check out my two new audiobooks, exclusively on Spotify, read to you by yours truly! Both Moon Beams: Poems and Wagon Wheel: Poems were first made in print editions exclusively as gifts for family and friends for the 2024 and 2025 Christmas seasons, but now I am sharing them with everyone in audio form. Please enjoy them on a nice drive, or winding down and relaxing at night. I wanted to create calm and soothing audiobooks to help you escape and feel as though you are out West with me, marveling at the wonders of nature. 

Moon Beams: Poems

From moonlit lakes and alpine meadows to stormy waters and quiet moments of faith, Moon Beams is a poetry collection shaped by wilderness, reflection, and wonder. Inspired by time spent working and wandering in the northern Rockies, Joshua Hodge weaves vivid natural imagery with honest meditations on identity, courage, friendship, and God’s presence. These poems are invitations—to pause, to breathe deeply, and to rediscover perspective under wide skies.

https://open.spotify.com/show/74HiaH62BSkMrUrTBRxs6H.

Wagon Wheel: Poems


Inspired by summers spent working at Glacier National Park in Montana and roaming the northern Rockies, author, teacher, and adventurer Joshua Hodge presents a collection of personal short stories and poems. Vivid imagery brings to life pine forests and snow-capped peaks, wolves and bears, wagon wheels beneath wide skies, and the glow of the northern lights. Thoughtful wonder also draws the listener into reflections on people, nature, and the passage of time.

https://open.spotify.com/show/6alITy7hb5BLd0cDrqmlB1  

Spotify App instructions:

  1. Open the Spotify app.
  2. Type the audiobook title using the Spotify “Search” tool on the “Home” interface.
  3. Just under the top search bar, click on the “Audiobooks” filter, as audiobooks don’t appear with the standard search settings.
  4. Select the title you want to listen to from the results. (The audiobooks will stream free for Spotify Premium users with avaliable credit hours. Otherwise the books may be purchased for a small fee.)

Thank you for listening!

More information on www.joshhodge.com

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 7

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Sarah recalled telling Dan how cruel she thought it was that they made students come to school on Christmas Eve, but right now she felt as though maybe she’d rather be back in school than the situation she found herself in. Her Christmas Eve was shaping up very differently than Dan’s. As time was ticking well into the night, Sarah sat propped against a couch listening to her cousins ramble on with mentally painstaking topics she had no interest in, and it was already way past her self-imposed ‘bed-time’. The family Christmas Eve party had been going on for quite some time now. All the pleasantries, dinner, and gift exchange had already passed. Everyone was now just lolling about the house, striking up conversation where it seemed fitting. There was no telling how much longer the gathering would last. Whenever all the relatives got together, it seemed as if time did not exist. This party, including its food, presents, conversation, and laughing, had always been a highlight of the Christmas season for Sarah, and it was very pleasant this year, per usual, until now.

Around the coffee table sat two of Sarah’s cousins, Jamie and Samantha. They were both about the same age as Sarah but very different from her in many ways. The difference used to be a welcomed thing. They were unpredictable and fun, pushing the boundaries, but in rather innocent ways, pulling friendly pranks on other family members and championing their latest wild ideas, which would be something Sarah would never have thought of, but reveled in the novelty of getting to participate. Just over the past couple years, the girls changed. 

There were no more fun pranks or games, instead they were obsessed about the latest Hollywood actors, gushing over their physical appearances, and saying things Sarah thought were downright inappropriate which she wished she could erase from her mind. When they weren’t looking at boys, they were looking at themselves, spending the majority of their time in front of bathroom mirrors or little ones they pulled from their purses. They were constantly fixing their hair and makeup and taking pictures of themselves and gushing over which boys they would send their photos to. Sarah, in contrast, sometimes forgot what she looked like. She would spend most of her time reading, or engaged in conversations discussing social or moral issues. 

They were very unlike Sarah, mostly because they were “stupid,” or at least that’s what Sarah thought of them. Sarah took language seriously. She would say the word “stupid” is grossly overused, but in this situation she felt her usage preserved the exact integrity of its meaning. She had expressed to Dan and Linzy before, “ I show great heartfelt pity and acceptance to one who is stupid yet moral, but to be stupid and immoral is an abhorrence.” Rarely her cousins showed any intelligence nor any adherence to any moral standards. Most of the time they were never on the same page as her, or even the same world. Their world was far more materialistic and carnal than that of Sarah’s.

Their latest habit felt most demeaning to Sarah. They would respond to anything she’d say with a simple, “that’s cute,” and leave it at that, as if trying to trivialize anything Sarah thought to share of herself. 

“I’m really thankful that we have the freedom to gather together and celebrate Christmas,” Sarah shared.

“That’s cute,” the girls responded.

“I’ve been reading this book, about moral obligations and the nature of goodness…”

“That’s cute.”

“I’m really trying to focus on work-life balance. School is so important, but I think this new year I want to engage with my peers more frequently and invest more in them.”

“That’s cute.”

Sarah was worn out. Sometimes, though pleasant, engaging with dozens of family members could be exhausting for her social battery, but now trying to engage with cousins, seemingly from another world, was utterly depleting. The girls were all slouching about the living room, except for Sarah. She’d say, “Slouching is not very lady-like.” They were all waiting for their parents and a silence grew long and deep between them. Then suddenly Jamie decided to change the tone of the room. She sat up tall. Her face lit up with excitement and suspense. “Omygosh! Want to hear like a story?” asked Jamie. Her eyes were wide as if an intriguing story was about to escape her lips. Jamie pulled her fingers back and cracked all her knuckles. “Okay. It all started last Saturday night–” 

“No it was Sunday night,” interrupted Samantha. It was obvious Samantha knew exactly what was about to be shared. 

“Okay, it was last Sunday night. I was like taking poochie out for his short walk– ”

“She was taking the dog out to go poop,” corrected Samantha.

“Shhh. Will you be quiet Sam? I am trying to tell a story, ugh!” Jamie decided to start the story all over again. “It was last Sunday night and I was taking the dog out to go to the bathroom.”

“There’s no bath-room outside,” Samantha butted in again.

“Ugh, shut up!” Jamie snapped back.

Sarah felt she had to extinguish the flames of the back and forth “The dog had to relieve himself. I understand. Go on.”

 “Okay,” Jamie smiled and continued, “I was like walking down the alley behind the old glass factory. The place has been like abandoned for years. It looks really creepy. It’s all falling apart. It’s ugly. It’s gross. It looks like it could be like haunted.”

“Yeah, haunted,” repeated Samantha, reinforcing the point. Sarah could sense the story was going to take a long while and was about to go down hill from here.

“So anyway, the night was like cold. The moon was like bright. The alley was like dark and creepy, besides like the light of the moon, casting shadows on like everything. I thought I had no reason to be afraid, like it’s Traigo, what could happen? Then I noticed my shoe was like untied. So I bent down to like tie my shoe and Poochie started barking like cray-zee. like he saw something, like an animal or something. I started to get like the chills. Scruffy was like looking right at the old factory and barking like every two seconds. I looked over at the building myself. I didn’t notice anything besides like snow. As Poochie continued to bark I heard like something else making a weird noise. It was hard to tell what it was with all the barking, so I took Poochie up in my arms and tried to like calm him down. While holding him in my arms, I was getting like a little bit scared. The noise I heard was coming from inside the abandoned glass factory. I thought it was a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Samantha repeated with wide eyes for dramatic emphasis. It almost seemed like the girls had rehearsed this, but Sarah was actually intrigued, appreciating the good storytelling after trying hard not to focus on Jamie’s overuse of the word “like.”

“Now, I am not the type of person that believes in like ghosts and spirity things, but when I heard this noise I knew there was like a spirit in our presence, and it started to sing. I was frozen stiff. I didn’t want to move because I was like too scared, so I just stood there continuously listening to the ghost sing.” Jamie paused. A worried expression came to her face. “Don’t tell my parents anything about this. They’ll kill me if they know.” She continued, “The voice was like so mysterious. It echoed in the old building.  I ended up standing there for like a whole five minutes, frozen stiff, until the singing stopped. As soon as it stopped, I started dashing towards home. Like, I don’t know about you, but I don’t need no ghost for Christmas. I ain’t no Ebenezzer…”

Sarah smiled, appreciating the literary reference. 

“… It was like really hard to run through the snow, but just as I was about to get away from the old factory, a door on the side of the building opened. It gave off a blood curdling creak. I knew someone had escaped the building, but I didn’t want to turn around to see who it was, because I was like so afraid. My curiosity eventually got the best of me, so I turned my head around, and guess what I saw?”

“What?”

She slowed down her speech for emphasis. “Standing within feet of me, was like the most gorgeous guy ever to exist. He was so hot that even the snow could melt around him. So it was like all a mystery, the noise and suddenly this super cute guy.”

“Super cute!” repeated Samantha.

“His face was like, oh so cute, and his body, oh my gosh, just so amazing. Like, Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight! He smiled at me and I drew near, flirty like. You know how I am.” Jamie flipped a strand of hair back around her shoulder and puckered her lips and forced her eyes to blink.  “I was a little afraid, but I liked it. Like, baby, do whatever you want to me, bad boy. I’ll be your Christmas present.”

Sarah cringed, hoping this strange fantasy didn’t go any further, and she was appalled. Please stop, she wished.  

“…He threw his like hulky arms around me and gave me like the biggest hug ever, and he smelled so good.”

“He kissed her,” added Samantha.

“No. He just hugged me,” corrected Jamie.

“I know, but I think it would have been more exciting if he would have kissed you. Maybe we can change the story to make it better.”

“You let him put his arms around you?”  questioned Sarah, appalled.

“That’s right. Then he asked for my number.”

“That’s repulsive,” stated Sarah. “You cannot be messing around with strangers at night in the back alley behind the abandoned glass factory. This is dangerous. You’re a vulnerable young lady, and you know nothing about this man. You don’t know who he is, where he came from, how he was raised. what his beliefs rest upon, what his values are, if he has any.”

“I don’t care. He was hot!”

“This is all wrong,” stated Sarah firmly.

“I know! Call me a baddie,” Jamie ignored all the seriousness of what Sarah was saying. “We are getting together tonight,” said Jamie, as if doing something shameful is worthy of pride. 

“Who even is he?” asked Sarah. Sarah didn’t like the sound of any of this. It all felt wrong to her.

“His name is Gabe. We’ve actually seen each other around, but we’ve never like said anything to each other. All I know is that we are meeting behind the high school tonight.”

“You’re meeting him tonight on Christmas Eve?!” Sarah’s face was turning red.

“Sarah, loosen up a little bit. I’m just getting together with the most fabulous person ever to exist. I’m sorry if you’re jealous because you can’t attract any guys,” said Jamie in the sweetest cruelest way possible.

“You know nothing about him. Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous?”

“Okay. So I might not know much about him, but what I do know is that I. Am. In. Love. The moment I saw him, I knew true love, hands down.” 

Sarah was burning up with anger inside. She couldn’t understand how her cousin could think this way. “You can’t say you love him just by the way he looks. There is no way in your right mind that you can get away with calling that ‘true love’.” How can my cousin be so naïve? Although the details of the story were surprising, it wasn’t extremely unexpected from Jamie. Sarah knew other girls from school who would have felt the same way. Sarah didn’t like it. She strove to be mature, while everyone else around her would always be rushing into decisions and getting into all sorts of trouble. Sarah was a very strong-willed person. She often had to stand alone, but because of this, she gained wisdom and independence. Her ability to move against the flow would save her from lots of trouble and in the long run be her biggest asset.

“Sarah, your problem is that you are like too good, well, only smartwise.”

“Smartwise is not a word,” Sarah was quick to correct.

“That’s a perfect example. You spend like all your time correcting others. You never just loosen up and have fun. You’re probably just like jealous because I found someone, and you know that no guy will ever like you. You’re a priss. You like never take any risks. Sarah, you are like so–”

Samanta interrupted, “Sarah’s problem is she hasn’t gone through puberty yet. She’s still just a child. We should let her just go play with her dollies.”

Sarah tried to remain calm on the outside, but inside she was livid. Sarah’s mom, unknowingly came to the rescue. “Well Sarah, I think it’s about time to head home?” she said. 

“Yes! Please!” replied Sarah desperately. She grabbed her coat and her presents. She felt she had one more thing to say, before she stopped outside. She was trying hard to look past the personal insults. Naturally she wanted to lash back with something biting, but she had to be careful. She had to remove herself from the situation. In sincerity, she opened up. “I want you to rethink your decisions and take a good look inside. I’m concerned for you,” Sarah said to Jamie.

“That’s cute.”

With her parents, Sarah left the party. She was relieved it was over, and she could finally relax in the back seat of the car. It was about an hour drive home. Sarah was filled with thoughts about what her cousins said. She wanted to forget it all, but it was too troubling to do so. Sarah thought of her life as a book. Each day was a chapter. She certainly didn’t want this indecorous story from her cousin cluttering up her book. She tried instead to think about Christmas being the very next day. It was so hard to believe. A whole year had gone so fast that she couldn’t even comprehend it. It seemed like yesterday was Christmas and tomorrow it would be Christmas again. How did I let all this time fly by? Where did it go? Soon, amidst all her wondering, her eyes lids fell heavy and she was asleep. 

A cold gust of air awoke Sarah from her sleep. Her father, sitting behind the wheel, had rolled his window down. Now awake, Sarah leaned up, looked out the window and noticed how much more snow they had gotten at home. The street light lit up all the mounds of snow which had been shoveled alongside their driveway. Her father leaned his head out the window and started talking to someone. It was Denver, the boy next door. Denver was a couple years older than Sarah. They didn’t know each other except for what they got from saying “hi” to one another while going out to the mailbox or walking home from school. Sarah thought Denver was a nice person. He was very polite and well-mannered.

“What’s this?” Sarah’s dad asked Denver, pointing at the cleared driveway. Denver was standing with a shovel. He was just finishing moving the snow. He stuck his shovel in a snow bank and walked over to the window of the car.

“Well, I noticed you weren’t home, and the snow was really piling up, so I decided I’d just shovel it for you and make things a little bit easier.”

“Well, thank you.” said Sarah’s dad. “We really appreciate it. How kind! Can I pay you for this?”

“No. It’s my gift. Have yourself a merry little Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you too!” Sarah’s dad rolled up the car window and pulled the car into the driveway.

“What a thoughtful young man he is,” commented Sarah’s mom. 

Sarah was flooded with a Christmas warmth, acknowledging the act of kindness. What a beautiful way to end the day’s chapter. This all gave Sarah some food for thought. She considered the sacrifice of a teenager giving up his time late at night, on Christmas Eve, to voluntarily shovel out someone else’s driveway. What kindness! What care! Sarah thought. What does this mean? What is the nature of this goodness? Did he find it a moral obligation, or was it simply from the heart? Her thoughts began to settle into truth. It was an act of love. Love is found in the sacrifice and the act of kindness. Abruptly upon coming to this realization, Sarah rolled down her window to catch Denver just before he went inside. “We love you too!” Sarah called out. She sunk back into her seat somewhat embarrassed to say such a thing with her parents present, but she just had to acknowledge the virtue behind his action. It was so refreshing after the conversation with her cousins. 

He acknowledged her with a departing wave.

“Awe, that was awfully nice of you to say, dear” Sarah’s mom commented. 

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Read Chapter 8: https://joshthehodge.com/2026/02/05/joshua-hodges-wild-christmas-chapter-8/

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 6

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Shivering out in the cold, Dan hugged himself and peeked into the window of the long blue building next to Mrs. Claus’ cottage. He felt as intrusive as Scrooge eavesdropping on Fezziwig’s Christmas party, though the circumstances were quite different. Mrs. Claus suggested he introduce himself to the elves while she got ready for their trip to Toy Town. Through the window, Dan observed those peculiar small beings boxing up toys while others were running around, tagging and tackling each other in a playful manner. There weren’t many of them, maybe a dozen. 

The room was like an open hall, all made of wood, with a large worktable situated in the middle on which all movement revolved. One elf unexpectedly locked eyes with Dan. He quickly took a step back from the window, wanting to be inconspicuous. Dan had a regular anxious feeling about introducing himself to others. Now, to add another layer to concern, these were elves. How do I introduce myself to elves? How do I get their attention? He decided he’d just figure it out as he went, so he uninhibitedly grabbed the door knob and passed over the threshold. All the elves noticed, as he was a giant in comparison to them. Suddenly all the elves stopped working and playing, and they looked over at him surprised. A dead silence reached the room. After a brief pause, the elves broke out into a cheer, loud and exuberant. One elf jumped up on the table and began to speak. Others locked arms.

“Of you, expecting, we have been. Joy and greeting we shall give. You we welcome to the North Pole.” 

Was that just me or did that kind of sound strange? Dan thought. 

The elves began to present him a cheer: 

Snick-snack snow and jingle-jing!

Welcome, Dan, to the Arctic ring!

By cocoa streams and tinsel cheer,

A human hero, you appear!

Stomp your boots and rig the sleigh 

Let’s save Christmas—hip, hip, hooray!

After their cheer, the elves immediately returned to work. What’s a cocoa stream? Dan thought. “Of work, a lot, done there need be. Excuse us,” said one of the elves nodding his head in an act of humility. Dan could already conclude the elves were very polite and diligent. He wasn’t sure what to do now. Should I offer to help out or just stay out of the way? 

Looking around, he noticed all the eyes were busy, if not in work, they were very focused on play. The room was rather plain, only the elves added life to it. To compensate for the lack of decor a large array of lanterns of all shapes and sizes hung by hooks from the wooden beams overhead, bringing brightness to the room. Dan eyed a simple wooden straight-back chair next to the door to take a seat. While he was sitting there waiting, he noticed he was not the only one unoccupied. In the corner, sitting down and slouching against the wall, was a small teenage elf-boy. He did not look cheery like the others, but discontent. Despite otherwise looking like the other elves in stature and size, he wasn’t dressed like them at all. A green hat with a jingle bell did not sit upon his head. He had no large golden belt buckle or dainty red slipper-like boots. Instead he was dressed like a human teenager. He wore grungy leather boots worn from use, ripped jeans patched up with other pieces of fabric, and an oversized black sweatshirt, with the hood pulled far over his head, hiding his forehead and eyes.  

Maybe I’m not the only one who feels a bit out of place. 

Dan approached the lone elf. “Hi, my name is Dan.” There was an awkward silence with no acknowledgement. “I just wanted to introduce myself. 

“You probably don’t want to talk to me. I’m ‘problematic’. I’m the ‘rebel elf’…” 

He seemed to throw the words from his mouth as if they had a bitter taste. “…and I’m not even an elf!” His voice was not high pitched and cheery like the other elves, but rather mid-pitched, and at times uneven like it hadn’t quite decided where it wanted to land yet. Nevertheless, it was  unmistakably human.

Dan had grown tired of students at Hodge High labeling themselves as “rebels”. They often wore anarchy symbols sown onto their black attire, and he wasn’t sure why. He had thought about this on many school bus rides. He noticed these peers wanted to act edgy and label themselves as ‘rebels’ but could never explain exactly what they were rebelling against. Dan realized he couldn’t get caught up in those thoughts again. He had to stay in the moment. He recapped what he heard in his mind: He said he’s a“rebel elf,” but that he’s not an elf.  How can this make sense, and why is he so angry?

“Well…” The boy pulled the hood off his head, exposing his black ruffled hair. He looked up at Dan with his icy-blue eyes that were intense and piercing. “I am half-elf and half-human. I shouldn’t be at the North Pole. I deserve to live like a human, not mess around with an elf’s work. Elves wield magic like breathing air. They are like dragons with fire, but I can’t. I am not like them. Magic is hard labor, but I am just supposed to be cheery and happy and perfect all the time. I just can’t!” 

This interested Dan. Half-elf-half-human? He quickly realized it was his turn to say something, but what?  “I’m sorry…” Dan had nothing else to say, but felt he had to fill the void, “So half-elf, half-human, huh?” he dangled an open-ended inquiry.

“Yeah, my mom, who was an elf, was pretty scandalous. Her name was the Tinsel Temptress, if that tells you anything. She escaped off Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve, met a human. One thing led to another, and then there was me. She was banished to the Frostbit Fringe, but here I am, stuck, neither elf nor a human. I don’t fit in anywhere. Have you noticed how I speak? My voice is human and my words and thoughts are in order. I want to live as a boy, not an elf! I don’t want to build anything. I don’t want to paint anything. I don’t want to package anything. I don’t want to say Merry Christmas one more time, or I’m gonna lose it!” The boy clenched his fist in anger then gradually loosened up. “Can you show me how to be a normal human? You look human! I want to be like you.” This was all unexpected to Dan. The passion in the boy’s speech escalated quickly. He heard someone telling him that he wanted to be like him, but he just met this boy. 

Dan tried to temper the situation by deflecting.“I have some questions. If elves are building toys here. What are the elves doing in Toy Town?”

“Here they are learning. These are elves in training. Once they master their skills, they are sent to Toy Town. I’ve been ‘in training’ for three years!” he emphasized.  “I’m never going to make it to Toy Town. I will never be good enough.”

Dan didn’t know how to respond to what was said, but deferred back to his own thoughts.“Do you know what I am here for?”

“Magic,” he stated matter of factly. “A human is rarely found here, but when he is, it’s because of magic. Yes, the elves wield magic, but there is also a greater, deeper magic that keeps all things in check. The magic summoned you for something.” Dan got goosebumps. Am I really here for a purpose? Am I really summoned by some greater power? What will I do? He was filled with excitement and anticipation. 

The rebel elf didn’t hesitate in stifling the mounting joy. “…I’ll never be summoned.”

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Read Chapter 7: https://joshthehodge.com/2026/01/26/joshua-hodges-wild-christmas-chapter-7/

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 5

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This was not the way Dan thought he would be spending his Christmas Eve, but it was far better than what he expected. Dan and Dakota were camped out in the living room aside the glow of the Christmas tree and the comforting blaze of the yulelog. Dakota’s bruised and broken body was positioned and propped precisely on the sofa and sunken into soft pillows. Dakota lay on the floor atop a sleeping bag with a soft heavy blanket. The two were watching old Christmas cartoons on the television with the faint hollow of winter winds in the background. Inside all was warm and at peace. Dan liked the feeling of being snowed in. Knowing that there was nowhere else to be, nothing else to do, brought about great relaxation. After a full day of running around Hodge High and walking out in the snow, Dan couldn’t be more comfortable where he was, spralwed out on the floor, warm, safe, and snowed in. 

As a jolly cartoon Santa Claus and accompanying elves danced around on TV, Dan tuned into the conversation in the other room. Dan could hear Dakota’s parents in the kitchen talking about wrapping Christmas presents. They tossed around names of unfamiliar people, and Dan didn’t know the context of much of what was said, but there was something so captivating to Dan, hearing Dakota’s parents talking together as a team, leading a household, and making Christmas plans. It brought Dan comfort, helping him feel as if his own parents weren’t so far away. He wanted more than anything for them to be back, especially around Christmas. 

Time kept ticking, and the night drew over all as the covers on a bed. The conversations were over, the TV and the Christmas lights were turned off, and the yulelog was reduced to crackling embers. Dan was staring at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep, as if all of a sudden he would be asleep and would recognize the fact. There was too much on his mind. He wished he could just permanently be part of Dakota’s family. Dakota’s parents would be the ideal parents, and Dakota would be the perfect brother. Why is life so unfair?

The blizzard had passed, and outside all was still and quiet. The moon glowing on the snow shone through the window and gave everything in the room a silver lining. Dakota was already asleep, and Dan could tell by the loud breathing he heard from over on the sofa. Dan figured Dakota didn’t have trouble falling asleep because his life was perfect. Dan’s comfort was spoiled by jealousy. The jealousy unwrapped discontentment, and the discontentment boiled to anger. Dan looked over at Dakota. He was thinking how Dakota always had the perfect answer, always knew what was right, had the perfect family, perfect life, even perfect personality that was so magnetic. Everything about him is so perfect. It makes me sick. Dan couldn’t take it anymore. Dakota was a constant reminder of just how imperfect his life was. Dan tossed and turned on the floor. The comfort was all burnt up just as the ash in the fireplace. It was too much. Dan quietly got up and tip-toed to the front door. He put on his sweatshirt and boots and quietly let himself out. His plan was to just cool off and clear his mind for a moment. The cooling off part came quickly, as the hollow winter air chilled him to the bone, but the moon illuminated his path, beckoning him forward, and his short intention turned out to be something much bigger.

To Dan, it was as if the world stopped spinning but no one cared. Creeping innocent white clouds brushed against the moon, but soon they became more hungry, swallowing up the moon, and bringing forth strong winds once again and a rush of snow. Dan aimlessly wandered about in the second wave of the blizzard out on the snow-covered plain. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of his parents, Christmas, and this new found all-consuming jealousy. He just couldn’t understand anything anymore. Why does life have to be so unfair? How come Dakota gets a family, a nice home, and everything perfect? He felt he was suffocating from his own thoughts. Breathe.  

His mind was like a racetrack, and thoughts kept passing by with little time to muse upon them. Any minute, it seemed like his mind would overheat.  My life is just a gradual wasting away of a person, he thought. His mind flashed back to Linzy earlier in the day, “You’re not going to be able to fix Ms. Tripkin. She’s just a broken cookie.” Am I a broken cookie? He pictured a gingerbread man with its head bitten off. Then his mind recalled Ms. Tripkin’s words said earlier in the day: “I’d also like to use certain words with you, which I will refrain from, because we are in school.” What did she want to say? Do I deserve them? I’ll never be like Dakota. As he wondered and wandered, out under the sky, he arrived nowhere. 

Snow began to cover every inch of air, as it had already, long ago, conquered the land. The now moonless sky hid the scene for Dan, except for that which was right before him. The wind was whipping and snow was twirled in all directions. Dan wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going. It all looked the same in the winter whiteout. He was too caught in a net of his thoughts, feeling like the whole world could wait while he tried to find an excuse to make himself feel better. There was no such luck. The motor in his mind started to slow down. It’s time to face reality. My life may forever be a disappointment and perhaps I’ll never really be happy.

After all this pitiful thinking, a bit of reasoning took up lodging in his mind. What am I doing? Why am I wasting Christmas Eve this way? Dan, get better control over yourself, he commanded himself. Dakota is a good friend. I should focus more on being thankful for him rather than being jealous. Dan knew how to name his emotions and work through them. Sometimes it was just harder than others. I will celebrate the good things about Dakota and just know they are his and not my own. Dan turned around and decided he would go back inside. He just hoped no one was awake and would find him sneaking back in.  How embarrassing it would be to have to explain himself. 

The snow was so thick that he could barely see his hand in front of his face, and the cold air felt like it was slicing his face. It looked like Dakota’s mom had turned on the porch light or something, for in the distance Dan saw a glow. It was a beacon to give him direction. Without it, he would have no idea where the house stood through the blizzard.

He followed the light, pressing forward against the wind. The closer he got, the more doubt he had that it was actually the farmhouse. It didn’t look like a porch light. It was in fact much bigger and taller and didn’t seem to be attached to anything at all. With each step towards the light, the less snow fell and the calmer the wind rescinded. By the time he was within a few feet of the light, he knew he had made some sort of wrong turn, but he didn’t mind, for now all was calm. Snowflakes fell down slowly and gracefully in fluffy clumps, and all was quiet except for the sound of some sleigh bells in the far distance. He came to notice the light was coming from a miniature old-fashioned black lamppost. He’d seen this before in a book or a movie. Oh great. I go for a walk and I end up in Narnia. His mind recalled Dakota earlier saying Christmas was a time of mystery. Dan was flooded with goosebumps. He was right. Where am I?

Attached to the lamppost was a street sign. It was green like most every street sign, but this one was bigger, fancier, and outlined with a golden trim. Dan looked around in all directions. None of it seemed familiar. The bright moon returned and he could now see the snowy plain illuminated all around. Then, almost as if coming into focus out of thin air, a Christmas village appeared, a group of buildings huddled together as if trying to stay warm in the winter’s cold. They looked inviting, and warm, as if their method was working; and they didn’t have to try to be festive by putting up decorations. They reflected Christmas by their very nature with gingerbread-like frames, frosted window pains, homey candles in the windows, and gentle carols in the distance. 

Dan’s mind was totally cleared momentarily from his jealous thoughts, and now he was dumbfounded by the unusual scene. I couldn’t have strayed too far. With his hand, Dan brushed the snow off the lamp post sign. It read Santa Claus Lane. Dan paused. This is so weird. I must be going crazy, or maybe these are someone’s elaborate yard decorations. He rubbed his eyes again, then looked at the sign once more. It definitely stated “Santa Claus Lane” in an elegant cursive manner. The more he stared at it, the more real it became, and the more distant he felt from anything he ever knew. 

He took off running to the group of buildings before him. He had to make sense of this. He thought they appeared somewhat miniature, and he was right. When he approached them, he found his height to be just about the same as the doors’, and he wasn’t ever considered to be tall. The buildings were painted various dark colors. Some were deep royal blue, some were forest green, and others were crimson red. All of the buildings varied in shape, but there was one thing that they all had in common. They looked like they belonged in someone’s Christmas tree village.

This was unbelievable to Dan. How could something like this exist in Dakota’s backyard? He walked over and bent down to peek in one of the windows. To his surprise, he saw what looked to be elves busily wrapping boxes. They wore pointed green hats, big golden buckles fastened to their waist, and dainty little red boots. They were assembling wooden trains with rubber mallets, and they all looked unsettlingly small. Is this something I should know about? Dan asked himself. A yellow shudder on the window suddenly slapped him across the face, as if reprimanding him to stop snooping around. He took a step back. He had an idea, and it was outrageous, but since the sign did state Santa Claus Lane, and inside the building there were elves, he considered, could I be at the North Pole? He decided to play along, even if it wasn’t real. I might as well accept my insanity instead of trying to fight it. He never actually believed in Santa having elves at the North Pole working in shops, building toys, so he didn’t believe this was a fabrication of his own wild imagination. He knew he couldn’t have made this up, and so it was starting to become more believable.

He stepped back and was still, calm, and quiet, trying to soak up all the wonder. Here he was on Santa Claus Lane on Christmas Eve! How can it be? He was frozen in amazement, and then for a moment startled, as out from a blue building down the lane, ran a rather large woman. She ran with sudden joyous shrieks and exclamations. With each step she took, her whole weight flailed up and down. Her flowery poinsettia apron held on for dear life. When the woman drew closer, she displayed a big jolly smile, kind sincere eyes, and small spectacles perched just above her nose. They had fallen off on the run, but she brushed off the snow and put them back on. Her hair was a silvery grey and held up in a bun with two protruding candy canes. Though she was large, she was nevertheless short. Her size was fitting enough that when reached Dan, she was able to pick him up in her arms and give him a big warm hug with welcoming laughter. She treated him as if he was some dear relative in some moment of celebration. Her demeanor was contagious, Dan broke out in laughter in response.

“We’ve been expecting you!” she said, in her very soft and squeaky mouse-like voice which certainly did not match her large estate. She set Dan back down from her all-consuming hug. I feel like I’ve just been hugged by a cartoon character, Dan thought. 

“You’ve been expecting me?” He repeated what she said as a question. 

“That’s right.” She paused for a moment, “Oh, I am so sorry, I must introduce myself.” Just then a chill ran down Dan’s spine. He was experiencing a very extreme case of deja vou. “I am Gloria Hapsburg Claus. Just call me Mrs. Claus.” 

This is insane. Dan wanted to crash into bed, put his head under the pillows, to block out reality, and wake up back on the living room floor of Dakota’s house…or….wait… maybe just the opposite. Curiosity was too strong. This could be something good, but it is so strange. 

“Welcome to the North Pole!” said Mrs. Claus. “How do you like it here?” she asked.

“It’s very cold,” said Dan, while his teeth chattered and his body shivered. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was all from the temperature or the chill of this strange unfolding.

“Oh it surely is. Come on inside and get warmed up by the fire, before we put you to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes, you are here to help, aren’t you?” Mrs. Claus spoke as if Dan should have known everything that was going on, but he didn’t. “Check your back pocket,” she instructed. Dan reached his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, and immediately remembered it was the note he found in his locker that morning: “…your help is needed, and you have been summoned. We are sending for you promptly.” Dan could almost fall over, but Mrs. Claus coaxed him onward. 

“Follow me,” she said. 

Dan followed Mrs. Claus to the door of a small red building, the last on the row. The others had the unified charm of cabin-like features, but this one was extra small, and residential, built more like a grandmother’s cottage. It would have seemed suiting for Hansel and Gretal or Little Red Riding Hood to have come running out from it, but without the foreboding sense of danger, for Dan knew he was safe.

As they were passing through the threshold, Dan had to duck. He was thinking  If it really was Santa Claus’ wife, he would want to be very polite and not say anything wrong, for Mr. and Mrs. Claus were very influential. They had the ability to determine who went on the naughty list and who went on the nice list. Wait…I don’t even believe this…or do I?

Dan felt a sense of weight and importance to the situation, and before everything he said, he thought a little while. Every word he said was premeditated. “Can you please tell me why I am here?” he asked over-politely. Mrs. Claus only smiled in return. Dan didn’t think she was going to respond, but when she did, what she said was of no use at all. 

“All I can tell you is that there must be a reason, but I don’t know what that reason is. You know everything happens for a reason.” She closed the door behind Dan. It was all so mysterious, all so strange, yet Dan was beginning to feel there was something at stake.

The inside of the home was cozy beyond comparison. Everything looked soft, comfortable, and warm. There were flannel patterned pillows in every little nook, lace draped from every surface, and sweet scented candles carefully placed all about for added ambience. All Dan really saw was the entryway and the kitchen, but that alone was a spectacle. There were so many beautiful details all around. The floor and walls were most notable, made of hewn logs. All faces of the wood beams displayed intricate images carved into them of reindeer, polar bears, Santa Claus, and pathways of the northern lights. Mrs. Claus welcomed Dan to take a seat at the snug little kitchen table. As he went to sid down, he noticed out the window, draped with lace, a magnificent view of the northern lights, just as depicted in the wood carvings.  Soft streams of green and purple hues angelically swayed in the heavens. 

“I can get quite lonely here at Christmastime.” Mrs. Clause brought Dan back to earth. “Santa is always gone. He is always with his elves down in Toy Town, making toys, or making an appearance at some shopping mall. I told him to stop the mall tour, but he insists he must go… I do think it’s quite nice he doesn’t just boss around the elves though, but he gets into the work with them. He’s a man of the elves. He’s a good man, really.”

“Where is Santa now?” Dan curiously asked. He never thought he would be asking such a question. 

“He is down in Toy Town right now with the elves. Most of the work is done. It is Christmas Eve after all. Just a few elves are putting in overtime, packaging up defective toys to be sent to the Island of Misfits.” Mrs. Claus shifted tone, “Just between me and you…” She lowered her voice “…Elves don’t make much for company. So, your being here…” Mrs. Claus gave Dan a friendly poke “…is very appreciated!”  

Mrs. Claus paused and her face hinted that she was stirring up a wonderful thought. “This is Christmas Eve. You have never been to the North Pole. I miss my husband. So, why don’t we take a trip down to Toy Town?”

“Where’s Toy Town?”

“About an hour south of here, through the Candy Cane Forest. We can ride in Santa’s old sleigh.” Her hands arose in glee. “This is a wonderful idea! Doesn’t it sound just lovely?”

“Yeah!” Dan replied, forcing a bit of enthusiasm to match Mrs. Claus but actually uneasy about what he was getting himself into. 

“Oh, I am so excited! It’s been years since I’ve had a guest. I support the last one was Mother Goose in ‘92. I’m just delighted to have such a charming young fellow as yourself here with me.” Mrs. Claus patted her hands together in excitement. Dan was fixated on her word choice of “charming”. Wow, I’ve never been called that before. Am I charming? 

“You know what I think we deserve?” Mrs. Clause didn’t wait even a second for Dan to reply. “We need Christmas cookies!” she declared.

“Cookies?”

“That’s right. Oh, why don’t we just make it a tea party. I’ll get the peppermint tea, and I’ll warm the cookies up a bit in the oven. Let me get my special tea set– the one with the hand painted junipers!” Mrs. Clause fetched a footstool. On top of it she reached into the top shelf of her wooden china cabinet. Mrs. Claus was over-exuberant and her expressions just magnified her emotion. “You do like peppermint tea. Don’t you?”

“I’ve never had it before.”

“Never? Well, you’re in for a real treat. The peppermint is grown in this cute little province down below, called Saskatchewan. Ever heard of it? Of course everything down below is littler compared to up here at the North Pole.”

Dan sat silent at the kitchen table, just watching Mrs. Claus scurry about her kitchen, and occasionally he shifted his eyes to the grandeur of the Northern Lights outside putting on a show. She turned on the stove on which her teapot sat, and then she grabbed her tin of Christmas cookies. She plopped down across from Dan at the table. She just smiled for a moment, looking at Dan. It was a real smile with nothing to hide.

“Tell me about you,” she inquired.

“There’s nothing much about me. My life isn’t very interesting.”

“Oh, that’s a lie. I know your life must be filled with some interesting experiences.”

“No…. I mean, well, I did get a good grade on my psychology project today,”

“Oh piddle paddle! I mean, have you ever gone on any adventures?”

“Not really.”

“I’m sure you have, but you probably haven’t realized it.”

The teapot began to squeal. Mrs. Claus went over to turn the stove off. “Oh, stop your fussin’,” she spoke to the kettle. “Why, everyday is an adventure! It just all depends on how you look at it. You know a wise man once said, ‘Life is an adventure. Accept it in such a spirit’.”

 During their entire tea party, Mrs. Claus did most of the speaking while Dan just replied with a nodding of his head or a simple remark, then he’d take a bite from the most detail oriented Christmas cookie he had ever seen. He cupped the tea-cup in his hand for extra warmth and comfort, as soothing peppermint vapers rose up to tingle his nose. The home, Mrs. Claus, the North Pole, the northern lights, and peppermint tea were all so surreal to Dan.

“So, what about that trip to Toy Town?” asked Dan. 

Mrs. Claus’ face lit up again. Her eyes widened and her brown lifted.”Oh, yes!” she exclaimed as if she had forgot but was suddenly reminded, and the excitement was fresh all over again. “I am going to have to get you a warmer coat,” she said, examining Dan’s sweatshirt. She spun around to a closet and fetched out a well-insulated blue quilted jacket. “The weather outside is brutally cold– colder than a penguin’s playground.” She held the coat open for Dan to slide his arms in. She pulled it up over his shoulders, and ushered him towards the door. “Let’s go!” 

As they stepped out in the arctic chill, a gust of wind blew Mrs. Claus’ cooking apron up onto her face. Dan noticed Mrs. Claus had nothing but her ordinary clothes and cooking apron on.

“Don’t you want a coat?” he asked. 

Mrs. Claus paused with a serious face. She looked down upon herself as if to check what she was wearing. She then broke out in a laugh and slapped her leg in jest. “You’re right, Daniel!” She leaned in to talk to Dan more discreetly. “I’ll tell you something… We really rely on magic around here. Without it we’d be doomed. We really aren’t the smartest bunch. You’ll see. We are rather simple people. The magic makes up for what we lack.” She shifted to a more sincere tone. “Why don’t you go next door and wait with the elves. You can meet them and get acquainted. I’ll get ready for the trip, and I ought to leave some kibble for the wompus cat out back. The last thing we need is the wampus cat getting angry and going around stealing souls this Christmas Eve.”
Dan wasn’t sure what a “wompus cat” was, and he thought about what else Mrs. Claus may need to get ready for such a short trip. How long will it take? He decided to give her her space, because if she was like any other older person he had come across in his life, he knew she needed time to prepare before doing anything. Dan took Mrs. Claus’ suggestion and walked over to the next building. He was just about to meet his next most unusual character.

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Read Chapter 6: https://joshthehodge.com/2026/01/25/joshua-hodges-wild-christmas-chapter-6/

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 3

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Wild Christmas was my debut novel, first published during the Christmas season of 2006 when I was a teenager. All these years later, I return to it with a fresh eye—re-editing and reworking certain passages while honoring the spirit of the original story. In the glow of nostalgia and renewal that Christmas brings, I’m delighted to present the third chapter in its newly refreshed form:

Amidst the many seemingly heartless teachers at Hodge High, there were nice teachers too. Though they were scarce, they shone bright in the darkness. The brightest star in the school had to be Ms. Madison. The best time to be in her class was at the end of the day, because she always left her students feeling good about themselves before they went home. Ms. Madison was pretty in a traditional sense. She often wore button up blouses or cozy sweaters. Her hair, though frizzy, was perfectly shaped, and she was always sporting old-fashioned red lipstick. She had a very trusting and steady demeanor about her. She was always organized, refined in manner, very polite, and always seemed to handle situations just the right way. When she got upset, it was always justified, and when she laughed, many students were right there with her. One of her greatest characteristics was that she was an encourager. She could encourage just about anyone and build up a confidence that was rooted, not in a falsity to win favor or manage her classroom, but in truth and sincerity. For some of the more rowdy students, sometimes the truth she delivered hurt at first, but the after-effect always built the students up. She was wise like that.  

English class with Ms. Madison was the only time of the day Linzy and Dan met up with Sarah, their long time friend. Sarah was a very smart student and in many advanced classes. She had to be the smartest one in her class, well, at least in terms of book smarts. Facts stuck in her mind better than the gum stuck under the desk, and she collected more facts than a junk drawer collects mysterious keys and random objects. It was very rare that Sarah would be found without her nose stuck in a book or her pen glued to paper. She was utterly consumed by her education. She had black hair, a pointy face, a delicate frame, and a very childish look about her.  Sarah didn’t fit in with most of the girls her age, for her priorities were not well balanced. She simply didn’t have time for what was trendy or fashionable or to be gushing over boys. “First off, I don’t need any mere boy in my life.  Let him become a man first, and if he wants to win my heart, he must first ask to court me.” That’s what she would say. Despite being odd to many of her peers, she did get along well with Linzy and Dan. Linzy was amused by her unusualness.  Her extreme behavior towards school, her obsessive orderliness, and strange array of phobias made her amusing to Linzy, and since Dan was close to Linzy, he just went along. They were all friends. 

Dan had the privilege of sitting next to Sarah during English class. Sarah didn’t talk to Dan or even say “hi”, but she was like that, and Dan accepted her. She would often be too wrapped up in schoolwork to pay any attention to those around her. Because Dan knew Sarah wasn’t going to say anything to him, he decided to initiate.

“Hi Sarah. How’s your day going?” Dan asked. Sarah continued to stare at her textbook, and she held up a finger signifying that she needed just one more minute to finish her reading. A moment later she responded, “What were you saying?” she asked.

“Oh, I was just asking, how’s your day going?”

“Well, I am very upset,” she replied matter of factly..

“Why?”

“I can’t believe they made us come to school today,” she said while closing her textbook. 

“Sarah, I thought you liked school.” 

“Yes, education is very important, but I still think it is wrong that they made us come to school on Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah, that is kinda weird.”

“Weird? No, it’s just cruel and unusual. Usually on Christmas Eve my family travels down to Traigo for a big family Christmas celebration at my grandparent’s house. The cousins are always there and so many relatives, some of whom I don’t even know, but we always exchange gifts and it’s a lot of fun. It’s always been a tradition. This year, because of this high school, and its remarkably ill considerations, I am going to be late for the party. I might even miss it. It makes me mad! School should not interrupt tradition.” Dan was shocked. He has never heard any bit of criticism of the school from Sarah.

“Well, at least you have somewhere to go. I don’t do anything on Christmas Eve. I just go home to my aunt’s house and we just watch TV or something,” confessed Dan. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence when neither of them spoke. Sarah wasn’t sure how to respond to Dan, and Dan regretted bringing up his evening plans, or lack thereof. He had already decided long ago he wasn’t going to mention his home life to others. He didn’t want people to feel sorry for him. 

“I’ve had a wild day,” said Dan. “First I got sent down to detention by Ms. Tripkin, and then I fell asleep and woke up late for history class and didn’t have my homework. Now I have to stay after school for another detention with Linzy…She was late too.”

“Yeah, everything is getting a little crazy around here. I just can’t wait until I hear the dismissal bell…” She sighed and continued “…Hark how the bell, sweet silver bell. It will tell us to throw cares away, that Christmas is here, and at least for me, it will bring good cheer.”  

From two seats behind Sarah sat Linzy. Overhearing Sarah, Linzy broke out singing the Carol of the Bells. While doing so she stood out of her seat and quickly walked over  to Dan, finishing with a “ding-dong…” then a subsequent much lower and prolonged  “…ding doooooong.” She quickly transitioned, casually introducing her reason for intrusion: “I forgot to tell you that Ms. Wenea still expects you to present your part of the psychology project to her even though you missed class by being in detention,” she explained.

“Linzy, I’m so sorry I missed it.”

“No worries, bubs, I slayed it, but tag, you’re it.” she gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

“How am I supposed to present?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like I can go after school, we have detention, remember?”

“Just tell them, ‘sorry, I can’t go to detention because I have to present a project, Merry Christmas, bye’,” Linzy explained.

“That’ll never work.” Dan replied.

“You never know until you try. Could be a Christmas miracle.” Linzy shrugged as if providing a smidge of probability to her suggestion. 

Ms. Madison stood in front of the class wearing her usual friendly smile, but today there was something different about her. Her smile seemed to have more to it, and the way she addressed the class gave some supposition that she was up to something– up to something good. “Class, good afternoon.” The classroom fell silent. “I am very happy to have you as my students. You all have been working so hard these last couple days, or really weeks rather, and since Christmas is tomorrow…” Dan loved the fact that Ms. Madison actually used the word Christmas. “…I have decided to reward you for your hard work with a little Christmas party.” She had brought cookies and punch, candy and a movie for all the students to watch. She was the one and only teacher who brought Christmas cheer. 

As the students enjoyed the Christmas flick and munched on their cookies, Ms. Madison came over to Dan and tapped him on the shoulder. She knelt down beside him to whisper, “I have your last report graded. You can keep it now. She handed Dan the report. “I have been very impressed with your report. I could tell you put a lot of work into it, and I just want to tell you that I really enjoy having you in my class. You are a very intelligent student. I am looking forward to finding out what you pursue in the future.” Everything that Ms. Madison said was always so encouraging, and it definitely helped Dan get through the days. She saw something in him that no other teacher could. 

*                    *                   *

As soon as the bell rang for the end of class, Dan took off running down the hallway, trying to get to Ms. Wenea’s class to deliver his psychology presentation to her. The hallways were packed with students, thicker than the Rockefeller Plaza at Christmas time, but not one was lingering. Everyone was in a rush to leave school. Dan went to his locker, grabbed everything he needed. His backpack dangled from one shoulder, draped around his arm was his sweatshirt, and in his hands was a poster-board. Super-focused and determined, he made his way to Ms. Wenea’s class. There was no time to waste, for she would soon be leaving too, and he had to make it to after school detention in time. This presentation couldn’t wait. He just had to get this project out of the way and off his mind. He needed the grade too. So, he was quite the sight for other students in the hallway who noticed him, dunning and dashing, and ducking,and sliding his way through the halls with his flapping poster board. As he was running he heard a student call out, “Run, run Rudolph.” 

After zipping down two flights of stairs, around four corners, and overhearing many “Merry Christmas” wishes, he finally reached Ms. Wenea’s room. He dropped his backpack on the floor, caught his breath, and stood in the front of the classroom as if he was about to present to an entire class, but the only ones in the classroom at the moment were Ms. Wenea and one other student. Sometimes Dan was nervous to present in front of others, but Ms. Wenea was pretty approachable, and he knew she wouldn’t be expecting anything extravagant. More than anything he just wanted to be done with it and had set his own feelings aside. He had to research a specific mental disorder and talk about how it develops, what it looks like, and what kind of therapy is available. This project was actually a month in the making. Linzy and him were arranged as partners, and so they divided and conquered. He just had to present his half of the project.

“Ms. Wenea, ready for me to present?” Dan eagerly asked.

“Yes, but just a minute.” Ms. Wenea was talking to another student about a grading mistake. Dan had little patience. He was anxious about making it to detention in time. After a couple of minutes, which seemed much longer to Dan, Ms. Wenea sat down at a student’s desk and was ready to listen. Dan thought it always looked strange to see a teacher at a student’s desk. It always made them look out of place. 

As Dan started his presentation, Ms. Wenea seemed quite interested. Dan figured she was either genuinely interested or was a great actress. She began asking a lot of questions, which Dan figured was a good sign,  but these questions were also taking up his time. Upon describing how some disorders are formed by stressful situations, Dan paused for a moment.  If that’s the case, he thought, I am going to end up in shambles before this day is over. Dan’s presentation was very good, except for the fact that he talked a mile a minute, and some points went by so fast that they weren’t clear. As soon as Dan finished his presentation, he waited for Ms. Wenea to give her usual applause, and he was out of there. 

Dan glanced at the clock in the hallway. He was already five minutes late for detention. He knew he had to pick up the pace and started running down the hallways again, dodging past all the other students. The hallway of the detention room was wet. It was difficult to tell exactly why. Some students coming and going may have brought in rain water from the outside, a mother picking up her daughter from school brought her a peppermint mocha, but slid on the wet floor, sloshing the beverage far and wide, and some boys had been playing around in the bathroom making a “snowman” out of giant wads of toilet paper. When they finally decided to flush it, it caused the commode to back up. The Janitor was there with mops, rags, and cones, trying to clean up and caution the passerbys. As soon as Dad reached the hallway despite all his might, he slipped, fell down, and slid right into detention. He was slightly impressed with how perfectly he slid right into the room he needed to be, but now his back was wet with a concoction he didn’t wish to dwell on. Dan saw Linzy was already there, as well as a few other students. He acknowledged her with a nod of the head and sat down. There was no talking allowed, so Dan opened his backpack and pulled out a book he had to finish reading during break, every once in a while glancing over at Linzy. She was discreetly knitting in her lap, shielded by the tablet of the desk. Dan saw a ball of red yarn tumble to the floor. 

It was very rare that Dan and Linzy would be in detention. In fact this was the first day in high school in which Linzy found herself there. Distracted from his reading Dan dwelled on the fact that it was so odd that the first time he and Linzy were in detention together so happened to be Christmas Eve, as if it was some morbid Christmas gift, much more malicious and even less deserving than a lump of coal. He felt like the school was out to get him. Dan couldn’t wait to get out of the place and on with Christmas break, though he didn’t have much of anything planned. He was just looking forward to not being in school. Linzy had finished her knitting, so she stared at the clock and watched the second hand make its rounds. The hand didn’t pause after each second but continuously moved very slowly clockwise. Linzy began to slouch. She was in a trance while looking at the second hand make its rounds. To anyone else it would be boring, but as for Linzy, she could find amusement in the simplest of things. 

By the third chapter of his book Dan was entirely distracted and couldn’t pay attention to it any more. He was too anxious thinking about Christmas and leaving school in less than an hour. He began daydreaming of snow and how nice it would be to have a snowy Christmas Eve. Too bad it was just raining. 

  Linzy quietly cheered each minute on, staring at the clock all the way until four o’clock when the bell rang, signifying the end of detention. As soon as that bell sounded, everyone in detention raised a ruckus, and shouts of joy filled the air.. Linzy broke out singing Jingle Bell Rock, exalting the school bell which had just freed them from detention. She got out her gloves, scarf, and matching hat from her backpack, preparing to leave school and walk with Dan over to her house. 

“Linzy, you’re probably not going to need those gloves or hat. This morning the temperature was fifty degrees.”

“I know, but what if it has been snowing? What if the temperature suddenly dropped, and we are faced with a huge blizzard?” Linzy knew Dan was probably right, but she decided to say that anyway to defend her decision. She just wanted to put on her winter accessories, because she thought they were cute. “Who knows what it truly is like outside? I mean, there are no windows in this hallway, so we can’t see what’s out there. What if we truly are going to see a white Christmas? Furthermore…” Linzy paused for dramatic emphasis. “…Ta Dah!” She revealed a red knitted scarf. “I made it for you during detention…” She slung the scarf around Dan’s neck, and while still holding onto each end of the scarf, she pulled Dan near her to whisper in his ear. “….to always remember our first detention together.”

“Thanks Linzy.” Dan was startled for a moment, when she pulled him near and started to whisper, but he was  relieved when he realized it was just Linzy being her usual self. 

 Linzy continued talking about the snow as they walked down the hallway. When they reached the wide exit doors of the school, she swung them open and was hit with a surprise. “SNOW!” she exclaimed. It was absolutely surprising. Snow had covered the school parking lot and was collecting on the trees, beautifully and delicately. Linzy ran out the school doors with her arms wide open, dancing around in the falling snow. Both Linzy and Dan couldn’t refrain from laughing at the joy and coincidence of it all.

Linzy formed a snow ball in her hands and threw it at Dan in a playful way. The snowball split into thousands of powdery flakes crescending up from Dan’s shoulder dusting his blond hair. He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, and formed a snowball of his own. He threw one back at her. Before they knew it, they had a genuine snow ball fight going on. Linzy liked the way her scarf blew as she threw the snowballs, and she kept eying the scarf she had knitted dangling around Dan’s neck . 

The snow was really collecting well. Within about a half hour, there was a good two inch white blanket covering the ground. The sun slowly began to set, though no one could see it behind the heavy clouded sky. It was getting dark very fast. The winter days were always short. 

After their snowball fight, in which no clear winner was determined, Linzy noticed it was about time for her family’s Christmas party, and she still wanted to practice her solo, along with the music, for the church service. The two started walking through the big sports fields behind the high school. It was a shortcut to Linzy’s house. The whole time the snow relentlessly fell.

“I love the snow,” said Linzy. “I wonder what it would be like to live in the snow all the time. Sometimes I just want to build an igloo and live my winter in it. I think I would make a pretty good eskimo.” They continued to walk across the snow covered field, kicking the powdery snow. “Look at the stars,” Linzy pointed. There was a break in the clouds, and a patch of stars twinkled above. “They’re so beautiful. I love this– the snow, the stars, me and you on this cold Christmas Eve.” Linzy looked over at Dan in quiet admiration and smiled. Their friendship had grown a lot over the course of the year. They shared everything from friends and belongings, to their deepest and most random thoughts. Dan always liked Linzy more than any other girl he knew. Lately things had been a little different, way too complicated for him to explain. It was like Linzy was going through a metamorphosis. She was growing increasingly confident and playful, and little bits and pieces of her personality were starting to take new and unpredictable shapes. It’s not like this sort of thing hadn’t happened before. Linzy was known for changing with the weather, but lately Dan was seeing her as a different person than what she used to be, and he liked this change a lot, yet he still felt like he had lost something. He had no clue what was going on other than the fact that she was growing up.

While Dan and Linzy were walking together, a thought weighed heavily on Dan’s mind. He hadn’t seen his good friend, Dakota, for weeks, and felt that he should pay him a visit. Dakota had been confined to his bed after breaking his legs and getting all battered up in a severe snow boarding accident. Dan really wanted to go over to Dakota’s house and wish him a merry Christmas, yet he didn’t want to leave Linzy. Dan had a persistent fear of letting Linzy down, and ditching her to go over to Dakota’s was aligned with just that. Finally after much hesitation Dan made a decision and broke the news to Linzy.  She responded with much approval, setting Dan’s mind at ease. “Wish him a Merry Christmas from me too.”

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Chapter 4: https://joshthehodge.com/2026/01/19/joshua-hodges-wild-christmas-chapter-4/

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 2

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Wild Christmas was my debut novel, first published during the Christmas season of 2006 when I was a teenager. All these years later, I return to it with a fresh eye—re-editing and reworking certain passages while honoring the spirit of the original story. In the glow of nostalgia and renewal that Christmas brings, I’m delighted to present the second chapter in its newly refreshed form:

Ms. Tripkin was very unusual and difficult in many ways to the point that she was nearly unbearable. There was something about her that was obvious, yet not easily understood. Behind her often fake smile, she held onto an ugly attitude, while carrying a chip on her shoulder, and a big burden upon her back. Just by the way she responded to every interaction made a person feel of less value. She was the biology teacher at Hodge High, and she seemed to think that her class was the most important class in the entire school, and that she was the smartest teacher in the school,  more educated than everyone else. She often bragged about her degrees and experience and used clever and well thought remarks, insulting every listener.

 Dan saw through her partly, but not all the way, and that bothered him, to a great extent. He spent more time than he’d like to admit, thinking about her and trying to figure her out. Linzy joked that Dan thought so much about her, that he was “probably in love” and should “just get married already.”  One thing he knew for certain was Ms. Tripkin received a thrill to her own ego whenever she put others down– and how peculiar as an adult she would find thrill from putting students down. Perhaps she is lonely, maybe something tragic happened to her as a child, or maybe it’s a personality disorder. Dan tried to diagnose her with what he was learning in psychology class. “You’re not going to be able to fix her…” Linzy would say, “…she’s just a broken cookie.” 

“Initially, class, I want to convey how much I enjoyed your holiday gifts and the joy you all exude this season. Since you all worked arduously, and I assume you are getting exuberant about this being the concluding day before winter vacation, proceeding, I will not overburden you with too much homework. What I do expect is that you assimilate the information from your study tutorials, over this winter vacation, and fill out the assemblage of worksheets I distributed yesternoon. I realize with the holidays on the precipice, there are going to be many days in which you will miss out on the utility of my class, so I want to be assured that you still have an adequate amount of homeworkings to occupy yourselves with festively.” Ms. Tripkin liked to use big words, ones that didn’t flow naturally, and some that weren’t even real words, in an attempt to flaunt her intellect. It was all theatrical to Dan, and he despised the words coming out of her mouth. He was starting to notice a pattern, and it was clear that she misunderstood the meaning of vacation, which is a period of time devoted to pleasure, relaxation, and rest, not a time for more homework.

“Oh, and conclusively, I apologize if I offended any of you for speaking of the holidays. Some people are observing special days around the winter solstice,” she explained.

“You mean Christmas?” interjected Dan from his desk in the back of the classroom.

“I beg your pardon?” said Ms. Tripkin, in the sort of way in which Dan could tell she really did understand what he said but wanted to question him again so that he would rethink his words. Dan was sure of what he said, so he repeated it: “You mean Christmas!” This time it was a statement, not a question. “…This ‘holiday’ season you are referring to is Christmas, and the ‘holiday gifts’ are Christmas presents, and ‘winter vacation’ is really our Christmas vacation.” Dan was frustrated that Ms. Tripkin wouldn’t just say the actual name of the holiday which was on everyone’s mind..

“Excuse me, Dan, but we don’t use that terminology in my classroom.”

“Christmas?” Dan was becoming genuinely disgusted with her and was anticipating a bah humbug to crawl out of her mouth and around her plump face.

“Yes. I’m sure that many of us are in accordance with one another in that this term can be quite offensive to non-religious individuals.”

“What are you talking about Ms. Tripkin? I know that everyone in this class celebrates Christmas. You don’t have to be afraid to say it.” Anger was starting to boil within him. Ms. Tripkin’s refusal to say the word Christmas, and allude to it as some sort of curse word was ridiculous to Dan. “So, Ms. Tripkin, you are saying that we are not allowed to use the word Christmas in school because it can offend others?”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “We should use more inclusive language.”

“People are exposed to Christmas all the time. If you walk in a store you will see Christmas merchandise. If you turn on the radio, it’s Christmas. All the shows on TV are Christmas, and downtown is covered in…” Dan paused for a moment to wrack his mind for the right words “– Christmas lights and stupid candy canes!” Dan forcefully extended his hand in the direction he supposed was toward downtown. Accuracy wasn’t important at the moment.  

Ms. Tripkin’s face showed utter fury. “Leave right now!” ordered Ms. Tripkin, “I don’t like the way you are talking to me. Never use that tone again with me,” she ordered, leaning into Dan’s face. Her breath was rank. 

“Leave? What do you mean?” asked Dan.

“To the principal’s quarters!” She quickly changed her mind. “Actually, I would like to have a word with you out in the hallway, and I’d also like to use certain words with you, which I will refrain from, because we are in school.” Ms. Tripkin looked out among the students and gave an apology for the disruption of class. 

Dan could feel his heart pounding within his chest. He was shook. He was usually on Ms. Tripkin’s good side, and for the most part was quiet and very conscientious in her class, but today Ms. Tripkin’s refusal to admit that Christmas was the holiday was bothering Dan. Christmas was so tied to his parents and memories of them, so as to deny Christmas was to deny them. He felt he had no choice but to stand up against this grinch. 

Out in the hallway, Ms. Tripkin tried to rip into Dan’s soul with a piercing and reprimanding glare. “I am trying to teach a well-respected biology class.”

“It just bothers me that you refuse to use the word ‘Christmas’.”

“This is a biology class, and we are not going to talk about juvenile holidays.”

Dan tried to look past her insult to Christmas. “I wasn’t trying to talk about Christmas. I just wanted to make the point clear that Christmas is the holiday we are all celebrating.”

“Well, let me make a point clear…” She provided one of her patronizing smiles “…I am teaching a science class and science and religion DO NOT mix. Do I make myself translucent?”

“Many people celebrate Christmas without any religious events in mind, myself included, and even if someone doesn’t celebrate Christmas, I am going to wish them a Merry Christmas anyway. I want everyone to experience Christmas,” explained Dan. 

“Well, I am not a religious person, and I don’t celebrate Christmas, and even if I was religious, which I would never be because science disproves all such things, Christmas simply is a fatuous festivus.”

“Why?” Dan didn’t quite understand what she said, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“I just don’t believe in its principles– ‘love,’ ‘joy,’ ‘peace on Earth’? Give me a break! That’s a fairytale. There is no special love congruent with Christmas.”

“I thought I heard you thanking your students for gifts. A gift is an act of love,” Dan defended.

“Actually, not even one student has given me a gift, just to solidify the record.”

“That’s sad,” said Dan, surprised by Ms. Tripkin’s rare moment of vulnerability. He understood why no one gave her a gift though. She was just not nice. 

“You know what else is sad?” Ms. Tripkin cracked her insidious smile. He could tell something bad was about to be announced.

“What?” asked Dan.

“You are spending your next hour in in-school detention.” Then she added, in the most mocking of tones, “Oh, and Merry Christmas, Daniel Bailey.”

*                    *                   *

Detention was a complete hour meant for punishment and reflecting on one’s behavior. To Dan it was a place to finish his history homework due third period. Detention was always thought of as a terrible place, but to Dan the detention room had to be the most peaceful room in the entire school. There was nothing expected of one except to be quiet, and calming silence filled the room, except for the brush of the radiator which was actually a relaxing sound. He thought it would be the perfect place to finish his homework, but he didn’t realize how the peacefulness of the room would eventually lull him to sleep. He tried to focus on his homework, but he became very sleepy and could not concentrate at all. Keeping his eyes open was a chore. Despite the chairs in the detention room being still and hard, students fell asleep in them all the time, and so did Dan.

When the third period bell rang, Dan awoke suddenly, startled. He was very confused. He was disoriented, expecting only to awake from sleep in his bed, not at school. He never fell asleep in school. Within a couple of seconds, which to him felt much longer, as the confusion weighed on his mind, he realized what had happened. He was afraid that he had slept too long. He looked at the clock mounted above him on the wall. He was so confused that it took him more than just a glance to realize what time it was. According to the clock it had only been about an hour, but it sure seemed longer than that. He had slept so deeply, it felt as though a day had already passed by. He knew that with how tired he had been lately, he could have easily slept through a day, or two, or all twelve days of Christmas for that matter.  

Dan came back to his senses and looked out the window. Rain was sprinkling the parking lot. He glanced at the clock one more time.  It’s time for history class. I’ve got to go! He grabbed his books off his desk and ran down the hallway. Upon running, he accidentally bumped right into Linzy, who was coming around the corner. Both of them dropped their books. They got down on their knees to try and pick them up. The supposed grandma getting run over by a reindeer was nothing compared to getting trampled on by a moving herd of freshmen and a stampede of upperclassmen. 

“Forget the books,” said Linzy. “We’ve got to get to class. We’ll fetch them later.” As Linzy raced away, grabbing Dan by the arm, she waved back at her textbooks on the floor. “Stay safe. Make wise choices. I love you.” She blew a kiss. 

“Are you talking to your textbooks?” Dan questioned. He knew the answer. Of course she was. That’s just how Linzy was— playful beyond comparison. There were mere seconds left of their three minute transition, between classes, and the classroom for history was at the other end of the school. They walked as fast as they could, trying not to run, for they didn’t want to get in trouble for doing so. Despite all his good intentions, Dan already felt he was on the school’s short list of problematic students, thanks to Ms. Tripkin. 

Soon the hallways cleared. Everyone had already made it to their classes, so nothing stood in their way until they reached the east wing. The east wing was the part of Hodge High that was currently occupied by hundreds of short and smelly middle school students. Normally the middle schoolers met in their own building, but this season the middle school building had suffered from some pipes freezing and breaking, causing lots of damage. Now, unfortunately, they had to join the crowds of students at Hodge High. Both Dan and Linzy stood staring into the hallway congested with youngsters. Their mouths dropped open in response to the scene. The middle school was on a five minute time delay from the high school. 

“There’s so many of ‘em. How are we going to get to the other side?” It was like they were standing at the edge of a sea of people. All they had to do was get to the other side, but there was no path in sight, no boat to carry them over the tumultuous waves. The place was more congested than a nasal passage during the nastiest winter cold. “We’re definitely going to get in trouble for being late. What can we do?”

“What? What was that?” Linzy shouted. She couldn’t hear Dan over the chaotic mess of students.

“What can we do?” he raised his voice. 

“Well, we are just going to have to charge through them,” definitively stated Linzy.

“Charge?”

“That’s right.” Linzy, preparing, moved behind Dan. He was somewhat confused. To him, charging meant running really fast without stopping, like a bull aggressively running towards his fighter. Dan assumed there was no way Linzy actually meant charge as though they were in the Plaza de Torros, but he was wrong. Gripping Dan’s backpack, her head bent low to shield her face from any flailing limbs, she cried, “Charge!” She was serious. Dan made sure his feet had a tight grip on the floor. The muscles of his upper body became very tense, and in his eyes there was a look of ambition and aggression. Suddenly Dan charged through the crowd of middle schoolers with his feet pacing like a bull and his chest flexed to steel. It was a success!

All of this caught Linzy by surprise. She half expected Dan not to play along. It was a fifty-fifty chance with Dan. Sometimes he’d buy into her wild propositions, and other times he was more reserved and sensible. This time he had taken her quite seriously, and his fierce aggression really stuck out to her. She liked it. He provided a way for her to get to class. However, all through the charge, Linzy kept repeating, “I’m sorry… Excuse me.” She wanted to be an example to the younger students of beauty and grace, not a raging bull.  

A brief sense of relief hit both of them as they emerged from the arena and their classroom door was before them, and it was still open! They quietly walked, a bit ashamedly, over to their desks and sat down. The teacher, Mr. Hallowath, was talking to the class of students, but he became silent as Dan and Linzy entered the room.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but you two are late. May I see your hall passes?” Those words struck anger into Dan. It was like Mr. Hallowath was playing some sort of game. The more students he could get in trouble, the more points he scored.

“Don’t have one,” said Dan.

“Don’t have one? Don’t have one?” he repeated to himself.

“The hallways were very crowded with middle schoolers and it was very difficult to get through—” 

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. You should be ashamed. How did everybody else make it here on time?” he asked.

“Because—”

“It doesn’t matter now. I will see both you and Linzy after school in detention.” 

Dan’s anger was boiling, but he quietly sat down at his desk and opened his history book. He couldn’t even find the right page, for he was so upset and unable to concentrate. 

Linzy leaned over and whispered to Dan, “I think Ms. Tripkin and Mr. Hallowath just need Jesus.” He didn’t know what to make of her remark, but it really captivated him. It seemed to come out of nowhere. What did she mean by that, and did he need Jesus too? What does Jesus have to do with anything? Dan wasn’t particularly religious. He had a hard time grappling with the idea of a loving God after the death of his parents, and so never really explored the topic. 

“I will be coming around to collect the homework now,” Mr. Hallowath announced. Dan opened his notebook and stared upon a blank piece of paper, remembering that he had fallen asleep while trying to do the homework during detention. That was not good, but Dan could almost brush it aside, for he kept thinking, how can Linzy tell if someone needs Jesus? 

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Read Chapter 3: Here!

Joshua Hodge’s Wild Christmas: Chapter 1

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Wild Christmas was my debut novel, first published during the Christmas season of 2006 when I was a teenager. All these years later, I return to it with a fresh eye—re-editing and reworking certain passages while honouring the spirit of the original story. In the glow of nostalgia and renewal that Christmas brings, I’m delighted to present the first chapter in its newly refreshed form:

Usually December spoke for itself, with Christmas, the holiday spirit, and a sense of hope for the year to come, but this Christmas everything was changing. 

I hope I can make it through this day, Dan thought. His head rested against the bus window, his breath forming condensation on the now foggy glass. He stared outside watching the downtown fade past him. The trees missed their leaves and the grass expressed brittleness in a weary brown. There was no snow to blanket it. To Dan, the buildings in the center of town were cold and plain, as if they were giant tombstones sticking up from the earth’s own crypt. 

Why does it have to be like this? There was something different about the town this year, as if the town was missing the December spirit, the joy of Christmas, the warmth against the cold. It seemed as if the cold was taking over. Dan shivered. He folded his arms, as to hug himself, trying to trap any warmth he could from the rickety bus heater. 

Snowflakes, delicately cut out of glittery construction paper shone in every downtown window, and gaudy plastic candy canes hung from every telephone pole. Little twinkling Christmas lights strung the small downtown together, as if casting a festive net upon the town. Maybe it wasn’t all as gloomy as Dan first thought. Yet, still, despite the decorations, something was missing. The joy and enthusiasm this teenager once felt for Christmas was gone. It had never arrived this season, never knocked upon the door of his soul. 

Of course it was expected that the peak of winter would be very cold, but this holiday season there was a different sense of cold deep down inside his very being. Perhaps this was the result of all the daily stresses which had burned him out, or maybe it was the haunts of Christmas past that seemed to linger. It was likely a combination of both. Never before had he experienced such a feeling. 

It just must be because I am getting older, he thought. Many times he was told by parents and teachers about the changes of growing up. He never wanted to hear it. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Maybe this is part of it. If this was because he was just growing up, he wanted it all to stop. He never wanted to lose the feelings he had gotten at Christmas when he was a child. Not only was Christmas a time of joy and getting presents, but this time of year also reminded him of his parents. They always went out of their way to make Christmas special for him. He could almost taste his mother’s buttery Christmas sugar cookies, but now his parents, just like the Christmas spirit, were gone. 

It was five years since the accident, which claimed the life of both of them, but the terror of that day lingered in Dan’s mind like it was yesterday. His heart would race in mournful dread at just the thought of it. When the news had first hit him, it was like the sharpest coldest icicle in the deepest spell of winter fell right into his very chest. Despite all the shock and terror of that day, Dan felt that the closest he could get to his parents was through the warm childish feelings he always felt at Christmastime. This is what troubled him the most– for some reason, this Christmas, the feelings were gone.

He grounded himself, finding security and comfort in what he had in the moment: rest against the bus window, the hood of his favorite sweatshirt, and the warmth of the bus heater, even though it wasn’t quite sufficient. The earphones, which curled around his bright blond hair, played a familiar tune. It was Winter Wonderland, a song that usually sparked that unique Christmas feeling, but not this year. As the song continued to praise the beauty of snow and winter wonderlands, this teenager stared out the window at the naked ground. There was no snow. Even if the grass were to have been considerate enough to stay green at least, it would be more festive than the lifeless brown. 

The bus, per its usual route, took a turn at the tall steepled church downtown. Out front of it, in the small church yard, stood large white letters grouped together forming the word H-O-P-E. There was not much hope this Christmas season for Dan. At least that’s what he thought. The only thing that was keeping him going was the singular hope which came from the anticipation of winter break. One more school day had to be endured, or to him, “suffered though,” in order for the school vacation to begin. Dan could sense the school day wouldn’t be easy, for it was loaded with quizzes, tests, projects, presentations, and the normal everyday struggles of a school day at Hodgeridge High. 

He opened up his backpack. It was worn and torn, and the zipper only worked half of the time. It was time for a new backpack, but he didn’t have the time to go look for a new one with the extensive amount of school work that accumulated around the Christmas holiday, yet alone the money. Out of the backpack he pulled one of his own essays which was due. He was very proud of himself for being able to finish it, because it was a hefty twelve pages long. There was sharp satisfaction when he had finished the paper and was able to sign his own name to it: Daniel Bailey.

Sooner than he would have liked, he stepped foot inside the big intimidating fortress doors of Hodgeridge High, carrying his over-stuffed backpack, and project posters for his Math and Psychology class, as well as a report for English class. For some reason, this year, school felt like home. It’s not that it’s where he wanted to be, for it was not cozy nor particularly endearing, but he spent most of his time at school so he figured it might as well be considered his home. 

He stepped up to his locker and dropped all his things at his feet, and then he quickly spun the combination. The bus driver hadn’t provided much time to spare. As soon as he opened the locker door, books fell out onto the floor, as papers dispersed in every direction. It was a genuine avalanche, a sign telling him it was time to organize the old locker, but there wasn’t a single moment of time that he would have to organize such a place. He began to stuff all of his belongings into the locker and take out the books needed for the day’s classes. Upon doing so, he found a note that had fallen out of his locker. He thought it was something he had written, for the handwriting was very similar, but it wasn’t, and it was written in some sort of particularly shiny gold ink- jotted as if in a hurry, but written with some sort of special intention and prestige. It read:

Greetings Daniel, 

You’ve been good this year.

Your help is needed, and you have been summoned. 

We are sending for you promptly.

Sincerely, Santa’s Helper

Dan wasn’t sure if he could let himself laugh at such a thing, or if it was a cringy annoyance. He questioned which of his friends would write such a thing. He had a suspect in mind. It wasn’t unusual to receive a letter through one of the three little slits in his locker. He had received many notes during his high school career, some were from admirers, some from friends, others from supporters and opponents. Last year Dan ran for school president, and he got both notes of encouragement and threats through his locker. Dan tucked the note away in  his pocket and closed his locker door, suddenly to be surprised to find his friend Linzy standing right there. Linzy was in many of the same classes as Dan, and they had been friends ever since the beginning of middle school. Linzy was very unusual but in a good sense. She always had a very positive attitude and a random spontaneity about her that was both quirky and attractive. Today Dan noticed how nice she looked in her winter outfit. She loved stripes, and today she had green and red stripes all down her sleeves. A white fuzzy snow hat fluffed atop her bright ginger hair. Even the way she dressed expressed the innocence about her. She truly was one of a kind.

“So, Dan, ready for another school day?” she asked in a tone of voice that was sweeter than eggnog, and too much for Dan this morning. “Ready to present our psychology project together?”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can tackle that,” he replied. There was a brief moment of silence as they walked together down the hallway to their homeroom. Linzy occasionally glanced over at Dan, noticing the gloom yet fiercer determination in his eyes. She was always joking, always taking things so lightly, and she liked the seriousness about Dan. It was different, and it intrigued her. She also liked to watch his wild and fair blonde hair sticking up in all directions, dancing to whichever direction he took. She always thought he was cute. Then Linzy paused. She grabbed Dan by the arms and her face lit up brighter than it already was. She looked at Dan square in the face. 

“Guess what?” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“This Christmas eve at my church I am singing a solo in the service. Can you believe it? Me, Linzy, is going to stand up in front of a crowd of people and sing.”

“Let’s hear it,” said Dan. 

“You mean the song?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Linzy, uninhibited, dropped her backpack, cleared her throat, and then began to belt the words to O Holy Night. Though loud, it was proclaimed with such confidence that it flowed out of her in graceful beauty. Her singing voice was near perfect. Dan had never told her how much he appreciated her singing voice. It was just that whenever he heard her sing, he was sort of put into a trance, wondering where that beautiful voice came from, for it sounded almost divine. If he were to compliment her, it seemed so insignificant. How could his praise stand up to something so beautiful. Some of the students in the hallway stopped to listen while others scoffed at her, thinking she was full of herself, which wasn’t the case at all. Linzy just naturally bubbled over with joy and confidence from the most sincere and innocent wellspring. 

Just that song seemed to brighten Dan’s day a little. Breaking through his hesitation he complimented her, “Linzy, that was great!” He was glad that Linzy met up with him in the hallway and that she was able to sing to him. The joy Linzy had this morning was beginning to rub off on Dan, preparing him to face the treacherous school day ahead. She gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “Go slay the day, and jingle all the way!”

Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas

Read Chapter 2: Here!

Questions On My New Book: The Colors of My Sunset

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My new book is here, The Colors of My Sunset: My adventures and reflections in the National Parks and beautiful wild! What is it about? Why should you read it? Here I want to address some common questions I get. This book is the most personal and meaningful thing I’ve written, and I am excited to share it with you! 

What is this book about?

This book chronicles a month-long adventure of camping and hiking in the U.S. National Parks in the summer of 2018, primarily in the Pacific Northwest. There are tales of adventure, humorous accounts, and captivating descriptions. Also nearly every chapter engages in a spiritual or philosophical discussion relating to the influence of one’s life upon another, the meaning of suffering, and the power of faith. 

Why did you write this book?

I wasn’t going to write this book, because this particular summer was, in some ways, very difficult and shed light on some faults of my own character, at the time, and my struggle with illness. I didn’t want to write about it. I was done. But I have a goal of visiting every U.S. National Park and writing about the adventures in a series of books. Two of my summer adventures are chronicled in my books Canyonlands: My adventures in the National Park and beautiful wild and Still, Calm, and Quiet: More adventures in the National Parks and beautiful wild. With time and maturity, I realized this was perhaps my most meaningful summer- a time of great personal growth, and it was a part of my story that needed to be shared. I am so pleased to share it now, and hope everyone can learn and grow from my own experiences and insights. 

Should I read your other two National Park adventure books first? 

I would love it if you read Canyonlands and Still, Calm, and Quiet, but it’s not necessary. Each book gets progressively deep and philosophical. If you are ready for the most meaty book, this is the one.

Who published this book?

I am my own independent publisher and own all rights to my work. I design and format my publications. By meeting publishing standards, I am able to work with Amazon for printing and distribution. 

How long did it take to write this book?

I began writing this book on Jan 7. 2022. It has taken me about three years. A great deal of time has elapsed since my last installment due in part to being wrapped up in other writing projects as they concern Dollywood and Theodore Roosevelt. In recollecting my advetures, I relied heavily on journal entries, photographs, itineraries, and maps.

What makes this book unique?

Each chapter is sort of its own episode and can stand alone, but, when read together, they paint a greater picture and produce more meaning. It is not a travel guide but rather describes my travels in the physical and spiritual sense. The reader will enter my mind and thoughts as I’m out exploring largely alone. The book also features 200 black and white photographs and 45 vintage illustrations. Among the many stories in the book, you’ll read about my struggle for survival in Death Valley, the time I jumped into Crater Lake, my first grizzly bear encounter, and my first ever days in Montana. 

Are the photos and illustrations your own?

198 of the 200 photos I took myself. A photo of the a grizzly bear I did not take. I also did not take the cover photo. The illustrations are not my own, but are from vintage publications in the public domain that are no longer in print. They are recycled here for your enjoyment . 

Where was the picture on the cover taken?

That is Emerald Bay on Lake Tahoe in California. 

Where can I buy this book?

Currently this book is only available on Amazon and is eligible for regular and Prime 1-2 day shipping. In a few months it should be available from walmart.com and other online retailers. Buying direct from Amazon is the greatest way to support me as the author. Buy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DZVRCQRY

Will you be releasing an ebook?

I am a traditionalist. I like my books in a good ol’ hard copy format, and so that is how I am choosing to share my book. I spend a great deal of time on the physical design of my books I have no plans to create an ebook at this time. 


Is this book the same collection of stories found on your blog?

Some of the stories are the same, but a number of them are not and are only found in the context of this book. As one of my blog readers, you will find this new and fresh.

What are the parks featured in this book?

Mojave National Preserve 

Death Valley National Park

Emerald Bay State Park

Manzanar National Historic Site

Bodie State Historic Site

Redwood National and State Parks

Oregon Caves National Monument and Preserve

Crater Lake National Park

Mount Saint Helens National Volcanic Monument

Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area

Olympic National Park

Mount Rainier National Park

North Cascades National Park 

Lake Chelan National Recreation Area

Lake Roosevelt National Recreation Area

Glacier National Park 

Lone Pine State Park 

Is this book content appropriate for all readers?

Yes

What other books have you written?

Check out my full bibliography on my website here.

Buy your copy today!

Thank you!