Dear Santa

There has been a recent trend on social media to “get rid of Santa.” Many people believe it’s not a good idea for families with means to continue to flaunt expensive gifts as though they’re from Santa, thus allowing those kids who come from families of lesser means to believe Santa doesn’t love them as much as he loves those rich kids. I understand that sentiment as an adult, especially having come from a somewhat lesser background. However, my memories have a different point of view. As a child, Santa was what made Christmas magical (years later, I realize that accolade goes entirely to my mom). We flipped through the Sears wishbook and made lists, then wrote our letters to Santa, just like every other kid. By the time Christmas morning rolled around, we had completely forgotten what we had asked for (except for that damn Atari) and were thrilled with our treasures. Writing to Santa was a yearly ritual that millions of kids around the world look forward to, and some of them grow up to write books about it. While I can look back at writing Santa with a sort of nostalgic detachment, I can not once remember anything less superficial than wanting the Barbie dollhouse (or that damn Atari), but Lindy seems to have had different types of wishes (ones that make me feel like a woman of little substance). Maybe that’s what I’m missing in life….less petty Christmas wishes. Seeing as how it’s only March 2022, I have plenty of time to put some thought into it. After having waiting for weeks to get this off of a library hold, which is common for the books on the Brenda Novak Book Club reading list, I was a tad disappointed. I love romance, and I almost always love the BNBC books, but this one just seemed rushed and farfetched. I still enjoyed it, much like I enjoy every romance novel, it just wasn’t as good as I would have liked. I don’t typically seek out Debbie Macomber, and this book reminded me why. On to the next book.

My heart loved it but my literary critical brain kept saying otherwise. It's a Christmassy chicklit full of miracles and plotholes and cliches...but so what right??? It made me smile like an idiot throughout. It's fast-paced and very straight to the point. It does its work effectively — it gave me joy. I think the 3 stars is very solid and well-deserved. I wish I was surrounded by so much goodness and love like Lindy. She's a good protagonist I guess, and her life choices were oddly inspiring although it reflected how badly Lindy could handle post-holiday blues. I'm glad things worked out, girl. I need more books like this. I know. This book made me want to write a letter to Santa. But knowing myself, I might end up addressing Satan and self-deprecately laughing about it to eternity while my whole life crumbling down around me at mid-speed. Yeah yeah yeah I know I'm unsurprisingly lacking season's greetings uplifting vibe. I've tried, though.