When I was asked to use a character from the Jo Riskin mystery series to write a short Christmas story, I didn’t hesitate. I believe I actually said out loud, with witnesses present, “If I can’t write a three-thousand word story in three months’ time, about an already developed character, then I can’t call myself a writer.”

 

Me and my big mouth.

 

As I contemplated a story line, I envisioned a typical day in the life of Jo Riskin. Being a Grand Rapids homicide detective means that on a daily basis she deals with death and the atrocities that humans are capable of.  She regularly sees the worst people doing the worst things. How could I work that type of job into a Christmas story?

 

I toyed with the idea of a homicidal Santa (based in a mall of course). I considered a rogue band of killer reindeer roaming the farmlands on the northwest side of Grand Rapids. I even pondered a bloodbath in a local church when the prim choir director and the overbearing lead tenor disagreed over the order of carols for the Christmas eve mass. I won’t go into my train of thought, but there were guitar strings and a trumpet involved. It was ugly.

 

But none of my ideas felt right. To me, Christmas has always been about faith and family. It’s a time of love and charity. I couldn’t bring myself to fit the square peg of homicide into the round hole of Christmas.

 

As the deadline loomed, I pushed it out of my mind and did everything in my power to procrastinate my way around putting words to paper.  My house had never been cleaner. Once I had my recipe cards categorized and alphabetized and my Christmas lists finalized (it was August after all), I took on the ever-important task of organizing the junk drawer. That’s when it struck me. I’m a writer, but I wasn’t writing. I was doing everyday life. 

 

While working on Warped Ambition and Warped Passage, some of my favorite scenes to write were about Jo’s personal life.  I love delving into who she is when she’s not a kick-ass homicide lieutenant. Because she doesn’t live in a bubble that floats only in the police station. She has a family and friends, and a dog that she adores. She loves, she laughs, she cries. She does everyday life.

 

In A Gift for Momma, Jo isn’t in the police station.  She’s giving of her time and resources to help those less fortunate. While she’s there, she has an opportunity to use her detective skills to help a little boy give his mom the very best Christmas gift of all. It’s a story of love and faith and charity. It’s a story about everything I want Christmas to be.

 

It’s a story of everyday life.