I Can't Believe It's Been 10 Years

 Ten years ago today my memoir, NORTH POLE HIGH: A REBEL WITHOUT A CLAUS was published. The book tells the TRUE inside story of Santa's 16-year-old daughter (me!). And the most amazing thing is, I'm still sixteen years old!

Now, before you go assuming that not aging is simply a benefit of being a fictional character like Lisa Simpson, I can assure you, I'm real. I'm as real as my father, who has delivered over a jillion toys all over the world in the ten years since I wrote NORTH POLE HIGH: A Rebel Without a Claus.

The thing is, as I explained in my book, NORTH POLE HIGH: A REBEL WITHOUT A CLAUS, which is still available at Popular Prices everywhere, all of us living here in the North Pole ages differently than those of you living outside the Circle. It has something to do with magnets and the rate of rotation of the earth up here at the top of the world and the route we take to school that takes us across the International Date Line every day. Plus most of our food is made with Magic. It's all very complicated and scientific. Einstein explained it all once to Chefy, but he didn't bother to write it down because he has flippers for hands.

Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read NORTH POLE HIGH: A REBEL WITHOUT A CLAUS over the last ten years. And to those of you who planned to read it one day but haven't gotten around to it yet: It's been TEN YEARS! What are you waiting for? YOU'RE not getting any younger!

PS: Merry Christmas!

Book Report: The Catcher in the Rye

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger is about a boy on the Naughty List who leaves his boarding school a few days before his Christmas break is supposed to start, not because he can't wait to see what goodies my dad will leave under his tree -- because, duh, he's on the Naughty List, remember? -- but because he's flunking out, hence his placement on the aforementioned Naughty List.

Instead of going home, Holden (that's the boy's name) wanders around New York City for a few days, I guess because he's so Naughty and all. And here's what I don't like about the book: It's Christmastime in New York, but you'd hardly even know it. I mean, at one point he goes to Central Park to give his sister Phoebe an early Christmas present, which was Nice of him and all, but he even says in the narration, "It didn't seem at all like Christmas was coming soon."

And I'm like, duh. You have to tell us about all the beautiful Christmas decorations Holden sees all the time and not just a little bit at the end, Mr. Salinger. That's the author, Jerry Salinger. He's dead. Daddy says Mr. Salinger was never on the Naughty List himself, but we still have all his Christmas presents here at the North Pole because Daddy could never find out where this guy lived. Anyway, I suppose if the he had allowed Hollywood to make a movie out of his book, we'd see the Christmas decorations everywhere and we'd all be calling it a Christmas movie like Die Hard or Gremlins or While You Were Sleeping and everyone would watch it every year at Christmastime. And then Holden would call us all a bunch of phonies, I bet.

So this Holden character takes this girl Sally Hayes ice skating outside Radio City Music Hall and she invites him to her house to trim her tree -- I think I know what she really means by that but I'm not allowed to say -- but there's not one mention of the ginormous Christmas tree they always have right there where they're skating. And I'm like, hello? This book makes me so mad sometimes!

Later the boy goes inside to see the wonderful Christmas Spectacular show without Sally, who ditched him, because, Naughty List, right? And he gives the show a worse review than Scrooge would have! I'm starting to understand why my father wanted this book banned from North Pole High.

I say, if you want to write a book that takes place during the most wonderful time of the year, then it should be filled with wonder and magic and Christmas trees. I'm not saying I'm a better writer than this J.D. Salinger guy was or anything, but my book, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus, has never been accused of holding back on the Christmas joy. So if you're looking for a Christmas book that isn't afraid to mention Christmas (200 times), reindeer (26 times), and presents (45 times), and is available in both print and (unlike The Catcher in the Rye) Kindle editions, then you know where to look!

Four Months Till Christmas

Have you been counting down the days till Christmas since you opened your last present last Christmas?

Cheer up! You're 2/3 of the way there!

Before you know it, Halloween will be scaring the chocolate out of you.

From there, you'll be able to hear your Thanksgiving turkey gobbling around the corner.

And then, CHRISTMAS!!!!!

Itching to get your ho-ho-hos started early? So am I. And I've got some great news...

Announcing the

GRAND OPENING

of

For all your back-to-school essentials (if you go to North Pole High, that is).

You'll find:

• Christmas books
• Christmas movies
• Christmas music
• Christmas decorations
• and more!

Open 24/7, 365, so you can be jolly ALL YEAR! Come back often to see what new Christmas goodies Candycane Claus has put on the shelves just for you!

Merry August!

Christmas in July Giveaway Blog Hop

Wow! Thanks for stopping by!

I'm soooo happy to see so much enthusiasm for CHRISTMAS in July!

So, my giveaway is for one of the few remaining ARCs for my critically acclaimed memoir, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus. It's about this new boy at school and how my dad, Santa Claus, didn't want me seeing him, and how Christmas almost didn't happen because of it!

Christina at Cover2Cover called it "Christmas cheer between its covers." Gina at Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers says it's "as jingle bell rockin as you can get!"

Now, one lucky winner will soon be aching for Christmas to hurry fast. So, on with the giveaway...

a Rafflecopter giveaway
My thanks to I Am A Reader and Laurie Here for hosting this hop! Each blog listed below is hosting its own CHRISTMAS BOOK GIVEAWAY. Enter them ALL! You can never have too many Christmas books!


Good luck. And if you don't win anything, you can always get the electronic edition of North Pole High delivered to your Kindle with the wink of an eye and a twist of the head via the magic of Whispernet!

PS: For the duration of this Christmas in July blog hop, we've made the Kindle edition of North Pole High available at the super low price of $2.99 (£1.80)!

Merry Jannuerrymas!

It's January 25th. One month down, only 11 more to go!

People always ask me what we do when Christmas is over.

Christmas is NEVER over in the North Pole. But we do lay low in the first month after Christmas. Santa goes into hiding to avoid all the complaints from boys and girls who were naughtier than they realized and didn't get everything they wanted for Christmas.

Like the Google+ team, who sent me this mean letter when I created my profile...

So they're basically saying Google doesn't believe Santa Claus is real, and therefore I am not real. Well! I hope they enjoyed their COAL! Ho Ho Ho!

And speaking of Grinches, look who's coming back....

Universal Pictures has announced they are releasing a new CG-animated feature version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas! on November 17, 2017. Wait a minute, that's like four years away! I can't wait that long. I'll be like a hundred by then!

I know another classic Christmas book that might make a good movie. In fact, Nick Abdo, the producer of one of my mom's favorite movies, Beaches, gave my book a 5-star review on Amazon last month!

"Cool characters and a story that will appeal to older kids and adults alike," said the Big-Time Hollywood Producer! I'm so flattered. :) 

And here's some more Christmas movie news: A movie called Happy Christmas premiered at the Sundance Film Festival this month. The holiday film stars Lena Dunham of HBO's Girls and Anna Kendrick of Twilight.

A review in The Guardian said, "Christmas plays little part in the narrative other than as an excuse to bring everyone together," but called it "undeniably charming." I'm just glad to know that some people can still appreciate the undeniable charm of Christmas even in January. :)

Until Christmas, stay on the Nice List. You can do it. It's only eleven months! xoxo

The Meaning of Christmas Trees (excerpt)

“Rudy, a Christmas tree by itself is just a tree.”

I set down my colored pencils and imagined the biggest, brightest tree imaginable.

“Each soul who hangs a bauble from its bough, or threads a string of lights through its needles, or tops it with a shining star, is teaching it to sing its own unique song of joy. A Christmas tree, when it’s finished and all lit up, with lots of presents cuddled underneath, reflects the magic inside each person who trimmed it.”

I waited for a scoff while his unblinking gaze confronted me, urging me to go on, to enlighten him.

“The tree that you and I create together will expose our very hearts to the world. No one else will ever be able to duplicate that.” I leaned forward, tempted to reach for his hand. “Close your eyes, Rudy. Picture it.”

He folded his arms and did as I said.

“You have to really think. See it in your mind’s eye.” I waited again, giving him space for his tree to flourish. “Now tell me, what’s in your heart. What does Christmas mean to you?”

He was quiet. I held my breath, ready for something special, something magical, to bubble out of him. Goosebumps sprouted up and down my arms.

Then he spoke. “I see our grades. They’re threatening to jump off a tall building if they depend on me buying into all this ’Tis-the-season jazz.” He opened his eyes and grinned.

I knew he’d never take this seriously.

“You’re a poo-head! I’m not talking to you anymore.” I swiveled my chair, only pretending to be angry, when my eyes landed on the picture on his dresser. I went over and picked it up for a closer look. I half-waited for him to stop me, but he didn’t. The woman’s eyes were so much like Rudy’s, I had to ask, “Is this your mother?”

“Uh huh,” he answered quietly.

“She’s very pretty.”

“She was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Cancer. When I was ten.”

Hearing Rudy’s mother was in heaven made me appreciate never having to worry about that, since my parents would live forever. But the sadness overwhelmed me. “What kind of Christmas tree would she want to see?”

“She’s in the ground.” His words took on a terseness that made me shudder. “She’s not watching us from anywhere and there are no such things as Christmas miracles.”

I’d obviously opened a door I shouldn’t have. Not knowing how to go back and close it, I quietly stood his mother’s picture back up on his dresser. “Maybe we should take that milk-and-cookies break now,” I said.

“I was kidding about the milk and cookies.” He got up and tucked his mother’s picture into a drawer. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“If you say so.” I went back to the desk and carefully slipped my drawings into their portfolio. “Rudy?”

“What?”

“I don’t care what you think of me, or my friends, or my family, or my town. But what exactly do you have against Christmas?”

“It’s getting late. Why don’t we save this for later.”

My heart beat faster. I should have gotten out of there. I should have run. But I couldn’t let it go. “I think you’re here—you and your father—for a reason. One that you’re not even aware of.”

“Go home, Candy.”

I almost melted when I heard him say my name, so softly, so at odds with the way he said almost everything else. “At least tell me you’re not one of those people who doesn’t believe in Santa Claus.”

“I had dinner with him. Remember?”

We both smiled. He wasn’t a heretic.

Relieved, I started packing the rest of my stuff into my backpack.

“I just happen to think your father’s ideas are ridiculous,” he added.

Our game went into pause mode.

“What ideas? Spreading joy to the world?”

“What do you know about the world?” he snapped. “You live up here in a fantasy land, and once a year, your old man flies around the globe handing out toys—‘One for you, and one for you, and one for you.’—as if an electric train set could make up for all the wars and death and misery people suffer in the real world.” He hovered over me, his words so forceful. His hot breath hit me like a right hook with every disgruntled thought he threw at me. “I have news for you, princess. The world doesn’t work that way.”

He made me scared and confused and curious all at once. “What do electric trains have to do with suffering and death?”

He didn’t answer. Whatever he’d been ranting about, clearly he hadn’t meant to direct his anger at me. For in another five seconds, he was almost certain to make a pass.

If you want to find out what happened next, you'll have to read my book, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus.

Merry Christmas!

Related content: See the tree Jenna Edwards made for me, inspired by this chapter!

How Mrs. Claus Met Santa (excerpt)

Merry 25th of November! 

Christmas is exactly ONE MONTH AWAY!!!

Celebrate this milestone with an excerpt from my mother's short story, How I Met Your Father, when my dad, then known as Kris Kringle, gave Mom and her friends a ride home from a party.

His carriage was drawn not by horse, but by two strong caribou. Kris handled the reins with skill and gentleness, as if politely asking the animals for a favor, and the bucks merrily complied.

I was the last to be dropped off. Still struggling to overcome my fear of speaking to this alluring man, I directed him to my home in mumbles.

“Why don’t you sit up here, with me, m’lady, so that I may better hear your instructions?”

“I do not believe that would be proper, Mr. Kringle,” my mouth said, as my mind continued to mull over the prospect.

“Very well, then.”

He steered the reindeer up the hilly road. The moon shone brightly as we continued on in silence. A stiff wind blew through my auburn hair and, as if struck by a sharpened moonbeam, I suddenly found myself hopping into the front seat like some uncontrollable monkey.

“Well,” said Kris, with a chuckle.

I looked into his eyes, assaulted by his very beauty, and managed to choke out, “I have changed my mind, Mr. Kringle. I am told it is my privilege as a lady. Drive.”

He flicked his wrist ever so slightly, clucking his tongue twice, and the deer sped off. The carriage wheels seemed to seek out immense bumps that jostled me on the seat until the distance between me and Kris could be measured by a caterpillar. My shriek turned into a laugh and I made no attempt to remove myself from his warm side until we neared my home.

When we stopped, the dead silence of the still night air enveloped us in awkwardness. He flashed a smile upon me and I felt as though I had witnessed a shooting star dance across the sky. “I would very much like to sculpt you, as I did your friend, Carol.”

My heart skipped a beat, then raced to catch up. “Why do I not see you in school? You are but a year older than I. Do you already know everything at seventeen?”

“Ho, ho, ho! Hardly, my dear. Alas, my family cannot afford to send me to high school, on account of the crippling taxes collected by the rascal Arthur Goody. So I am homeschooled.”

My mouth went dry. My father? A rascal? Depriving this kind and generous man—who happened to possess a form not unlike your average Norse god—of a basic education? Forsakes, what if Kris were to be made aware the rascal was of my blood? Should I tell him now and spoil the moment for whatever it was or might be in the future?

Before I could utter a word, Kris handed me a bundle of some sort. “Please, take this,” he said, his voice warm like a pleasant cup of tea.

I unwrapped the paper to reveal a nutcracker unlike any I had ever seen. Instead of the usual king or palace guard, I held in my hands a beautiful fairy angel. She wore a white, silken dress, and even without paint, her wooden face had the appearance of fine porcelain. “She’s gorgeous,” I sputtered. “I don’t understand.”

“My address is on the card.” He smiled at me again, and I felt a strange warmth cover me everywhere. “Call upon me, if you wish.”

I removed the tag from the fairy’s wand, stuffing it into my pocket without so much as a glance. Then I ran inside, a bundle of nerves, forgetting to thank him for the ride, the wrappings drifting to the curb in my wake, the magical nutcracker clutched tightly to my bosom.

Breathing normally again from the safety of the other side of my front door, I found my father waiting up for me. Not angrily, for I had not stayed out past the agreed upon curfew, but for the sake of simple fatherly concern over the safety of his young daughter. He put down the book he’d been reading, came over to hug me, asked if I’d had a good time at the party, then quizzed me on my peculiar new toy.

“Where in heavens did you obtain this thing?” he asked.

“At the party. From a friend of Carol’s.”

Poppa moved the lever up and down, carefully examining the mouth as it opened wide, then shut tight. “That Kringle fellow?”

“Yes, Poppa.”

“He’s an odd one. Drives around with reindeer pulling his carriage.”

“I don’t think his family can afford a horse,” I said, before remembering who Kris had blamed for that.

“And just how much did Mr. Kringle charge you for this handiwork?”

“’Twas a gift, Poppa.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin and stared harder at the nutcracker.

“Is something wrong, Poppa?”

“Funny how a boy of such destitution can afford to buy gifts for young ladies he hardly knows.” He carried the angel across the room.

“Oh, but Poppa, you are mistaken. Kris made this doll of his own hand.” I pictured Kris’s nimble fingers shaving small curls of wood off the inanimate object, bringing it magically to life.

“That makes him all the more odd then, in my book. Why give things away when one can easily command a decent price for his wares? For then his father would no longer be delinquent in his payments to the state. His Majesty, my boss, would say the Kringles deliberately avoid an income to shirk their duty to the crown. I am afraid that assessment may not lie far from the mark.”

I flashed back to the day I'd seen Kris at the toy shoppe. Poppa’s queries began to make some sense. Why did Kris hand his toys to those children when he could just as easily have sold them to the shopkeeper for a nominal fee, who could in turn have sold them to the boys and girls for a small profit?

“At any rate, we don’t accept gifts from strangers now, do we?”

I became so lost in the memory of a kind of glow that I’d noticed surrounding Kris as each child’s face lit up, that I scarcely noticed Poppa toss my present onto the fire. I could almost hear the lifelike figure cry out in agony as he pushed her deep into the flame with a poker. I nearly burst into tears myself, but somehow stopped when my tips of my fingers found the card with Kris’s address nestled at the bottom of my pocket.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry, Poppa. It was wrong of me to accept the gift.”

“There, there.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “No harm done. Just remember to keep your distance from the lad.”

Well, I bet they hooked up eventually, or I would never have been born! To find out what happened next, read the complete short story and more in North Pole High: Beginnings.

You can still get the ebook for free through the end of November using the coupon code posted earlier this month, or for just 99 cents at Amazon and now at Barnes & Noble too!

Sparkly Christmas Balls (Excerpt)

(get wallpaper)

The eight-and-a-half-foot-tall shaggy white bear had to stoop to attach our homework to the naked, cardboard-cutout Christmas tree that stood on a tiny easel next to his desk. Some of my classmates turned red with embarrassment as they watched their ornament join the collection, perhaps feeling their work wasn’t as good as the others. But one by one, our sparkly treasures beautified that silly facsimile until it suddenly shone as Christmassy as a real tree!

Mr. Polar Bear stepped aside and smiled with pride at his new charges as we applauded ourselves. But, as only two of us knew, one ornament was still missing.

“Class, this year there is one team I am giving an A-super-plus,” Mr. PB said.

Johnny Toboggan, Silentnight, and Sugarcookie scanned their twenty classmates, trying to figure out whose ornament had yet to be presented. By then, the rest of the class had already guessed and turned directly toward me and my gloating boyfriend, Tinsel. I sent them back a grin that I hoped conveyed modest surprise and appreciation even though I had become accustomed to standing out in class ever since kindergarten, when I could recite the names of all eight of Daddy’s reindeer backward and forward.

Tinsel, on the other hand, slapped high-fives with Elation and Cookiejar even before Mr. Polar Bear unveiled our shimmering dazzler.

I had come up with the idea to take two candy canes, natch, and join them into the shape of a heart. Then Tinsel and I added a few creative ingredients to make our shiny heart beat like a living, breathing instrument of love.

“This is the most magnificent Christmas tree ornament I have ever seen. Candycane, Tinsel, would you like to share your thoughts about your… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to think of another word for it… magnificent work with the rest of the class?”

I’d never seen a polar bear cry before that moment. I bet no one ever had. Polar bears don’t cry. But this one did. Just one little watery drop that formed in his dark brown eye. He wiped it away with the side of his paw before it could fall.

I’m not trying to brag when I say I’ve always had an easy time in school. But this whole eleventh-grade thing was beginning to look a lot like cake.

“We weren’t even thinking about a grade, Mr. Polar Bear,” I said. “Tinsel and I just thought about our love of Christmas. And then we wished upon a star. That was the most important part. And the heart just kind of shaped itself!”

The class let out a collective “Awwwww,” and I blushed while Tinsel took a few exaggerated bows. But the praise from our peers screeched to a halt as a boy who could not have been more the opposite of my talented boyfriend appeared in the doorway of our happy little classroom.

And that, my friends, was the moment Rudy Tutti first walked into my life. I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from my critically-acclaimed book, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus.

Here's a fun video I found showing you how to make your own sparkly pink Christmas ornament, just like the ones we make in Mr. Polar Bear's class at North Pole High!

Ho-ho-ho!

Merry Month-Before-Christmas!

Halloween is OVER.

It's finally NOVEMBER!


Swans-a-swimming, that means...

CHRISTMAS IS NEXT MONTH!!!

To get your Christmas Spirit going, I'm giving you an

early Christmas Present!

North Pole High: Beginnings is a collection of short stories that explore the wondrous origins of some of the most beloved characters from my critically-acclaimed book, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus.

And this month only, you can get fun, Christmassy prequel absolutely FREE.

Click on the book cover above and use the COUPON CODE: WZ95X

But pleeeeeeeeze don't TELL EVERYONE YOU KNOW or the Kindle elves won't be able to keep up with the demand.

BONUS: If you have Amazon Prime, you can borrow North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus for free too!

Have a Merry November from everyone at North Pole High!

Ho, ho, ho!

Christmas Quote of the Day

Not to get too political, but it was beginning to look a lot like this grinch was trying to steal Christmas!

Perhaps his heart grew three sizes today. Or maybe just a half size. At any rate, he showed he has some Christmas Spirit. :)

In other Christmas news, Neiman Marcus has unveiled their 2013 Christmas catalog. It contains beautiful gifts for over one million dollars, like a $1.5 million waterproof, outdoor home theatre system, perfect for watching Christmas movies in the SNOW! (Christmas movies and snow not included.)

Looks like the super wealthy have found a way around Daddy's prerequisite to be Nice all year.

The rest of us know that Santa's on his way. He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh. But if you don't want to wait, the publishing industry has launched the Christmas season today with Super Thursday, releasing a bunch of cool books.

No actual Christmas books per se on that list. But here's a jolly one that's sure get your Christmas in gear...

Have a merry weekend! :D
xoxo

Merry Anniversary to Me

I can't believe it. 'Twas one year ago today the elves released my debut book....

A big candy-cane hug to everyone on the Nice List who enjoyed it last year. I hope you plan to make it part of an annual Yuletide tradition.

They say Christmas is coming earlier this year, but my dad assures me it's still going to be on December 25.

However, it is true that Hanukkah is coming ridiculously early this year (like, before Thanksgiving!), and that 1 in 3 Jewish Americans puts up a Christmas tree!

So hurry up and get yourself ready for Christmas before it's too late, with the book critics called "a Christmas favorite to be read year after year."

And have a Merry October! :D

#SoonItWillBeChristmasDay