Repeat the Sounding Joy... by Nan Reinhardt

I love to sing. I can’t sing. I mean I have a truly terrible voice, but I love to sing. Especially at Christmas. So Pandora’s Christmas Classics starts playing at our house before Thanksgiving and NPR gets switched to the Christmas station on the car radio as soon as B104.5 becomes all Christmas music all the time. I’ve played James Taylor’s holiday CD so many times I’m surprised it isn’t worn through and at least four times a week, I hunt for the Eagles version of “Please Come Home for Christmas” on YouTube and play it while I’m working.

Hello, I’m Nan and I am a Christmas music junkie.

It’s not just the holiday tunes that we all know and love—you know, the ones that send warm little snuggly hugs throughout your whole being? “Winter Wonderland.” “The Christmas Song” (Nat King Cole’s version, of course). “Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” “Jingle Bells.” Even the more up-to-date ones like “All I Want for Christmas” and Leonard Cohen’s haunting “Hallelujah,” make me happy.

But it’s the Advent singing that takes me into the holidays with the gladdest heart. All the lovely carols we sing as a part of Sunday worship in December and the special music. “Mary, Did You Know?” “Who Comes This Night?” “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” And of course, “Oh, Holy Night.” My Aunt Ruth Audrey used to sing that beautiful carol every Christmas Eve while my cousin Susie accompanied her on the piano. Aunt Ruth had a gorgeous contralto that sent shivers down your spine when she hit that first “Oh night divine…” As a kid, that’s when I knew it was truly, truly Christmas. 

I miss her. I miss those family Christmas Eves and the singing around the piano and lighting the advent candles and Mom reading to us from the second chapter of the gospel of Luke and my grandfather’s turkey dinner on Christmas day. I do what I can to make our Christmases as special as they felt when I was a kid, but even today, it’s the music—the carols, the songs about snow and pie and winter wonderlands and silver bells that truly bring the spirit of the holiday to life for me.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and yours and if you need a little holiday boost, turn on some Christmas music and sing along. Your heart will thank you.

Bio, Social Links for Author Nan Reinhardt

Nan Reinhardt is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled, woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 49 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake.

Talk to Nan at: nan@nanreinhardt.com

Website: www.nanreinhardt.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authornanreinhardt

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The Fireman’s Christmas Wish, Book 3 in the Lange Brothers Trilogy

Her heart is wide open, but he’s nailed his shut.

Preschool teacher Harley Cole has always viewed life through rose-colored glasses. With a career she loves, friends she enjoys, and a home that is her haven, there’s only one thing missing—finding her soul mate. As the holidays approach, Harley is inspired to help her former high school crush rediscover his holiday joy. It’s just a good deed...until the feelings she thought were gone come rushing back.

Fire Chief Becker Lange returns home to River’s Edge with a heavy heart. His divorce has emotionally ravaged him, leaving him more confused than ever about what women want. So to protect himself from another failure, he closes his heart. And then Harley Cole makes him a flirty dare that she can help him overcome the holiday blues. Beck’s not sure he wants to, but Harley’s a hard woman to tell no.

Can the magic of Christmas and a sweet stray kitten bring these two lonely souls together?

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09YFH87XD

B&N Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-firemans-christmas-wish-nan-reinhardt/1141372530

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-fireman-s-christmas-wish

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-firemans-christmas-wish/id1620215901

Tule Bookstore: https://tulepublishingshop.com/products/the-fireman-s-christmas-wish

Free with the Tree by Liz Flaherty

I've written about music before, which with my tin ear, two left feet, and appalling voice, isn't necessarily expected even though music is as important in our house as any possession we might have. Experts insist you should write what you know, and what I know about music is how bad I am at every facet of it.

Except listening. I'm a good listener.

And feeling. I'm good at that, too. (And dwelling on what I feel, but we're not talking about that this week.)

Terri & John Bond - Photo by Sarah Luginbill

We were at an open mic session at Gallery 15 this week and Terri and John Bond sang "Mr. Bojangles." It's an old favorite and I hadn't heard it in a long time. I sang along almost silently--at least, no one gave me any dirty looks--and the lyrics and the tempo of the song created one of the most overused terms of the century, a soft place to fall. With the sounds of Circus City Days as a suitable backdrop, the story in the words and the gentle tune opened the doors of yesterdays and good feelings. 

When I looked up "Mr. Bojangles" this morning to get information on it, I remembered a made-for-TV movie in 1977 called Sunshine Christmas when Pat Hingle sang the song for his granddaughter. It was a sweet, sentimental show that entertained and made my heart ache at the same time. What could be better?

Hearing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," watching graduates walk in to "Pomp and Circumstance," and experiencing anyone singing "Amazing Grace" can bring me to tears and hiss "shhh!" to anyone silly enough to talk while the music's entering my heart. 

There are moments that music give us that are like gifts. Bette Midler and Wynonna Judd are singing "The Rose" on YouTube as I write this, and I remember that it was played at my brother-in-law's funeral. Laughing Bill. We still miss him. But, oh, the memories are precious.  

Music is public, it's loud, it's shared; there is music played in cars that can be heard and felt hundreds of feet away (whether you want it to be or not), and yet...and yet...it's so intensely private, too. I just listened to Linda Ronstadt singing "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" with the Eagles and danced in the office wishing I had a hairbrush out here to sing into. I would not care for anyone to have seen that, much less heard it. It would leave a mark

I dislike virtually all music--give me a break; I said virtually--released in this century, plus most of the stuff my kids played in the last one, but I know how the music of the 1960s made me feel. And I remember how my mom disliked it. I think there were a couple of years there when the only words she said to me were, "Turn it down!" That is, I guess, how generations roll. What's funny is that the songs from when my folks were young give me all kinds of warm, fuzzy feelings when I hear them. My kids like the Beatles and the Eagles, too, and I'm fairly sure they're all aware that "Good Vibrations" is anthemesque in its importance. 

Sometimes the mistakes are what you remember when you hear a song. I sang, "...just another magic Monday..." for years instead of "...just another manic Monday..." (Even now that I know better, I like magic better.) I just saw a meme on Facebook about an eight-year-old singing "...dancing queen, young and sweet, only seven teeth..." Kari Wilson and Anna Bednarski agreed that they sang it and it flowed. Anna said it might be even better than the original. Just like magic...

Duane sang a Joe Nichols song last night called "The Shade." It's a nice song and has one of my favorite lines of all time. ...the shade comes free with a tree...

We need music, don't we? We need to be better listeners, to have open hearts, to allow ourselves to feel. We also need to be foolish sometimes and sing badly into hair brush microphones, to cherish the memories that music gives us, just like the shade with a tree, free of charge. 

Thanks for listening. Have a great week. Be nice to somebody.