The Norwegians have a word for the last week of the year: Romjul, which gives us a space to breathe between the frenzy of Yule celebrations and the obligations of the New Year. Romjul is a time to get cozy, to gather one’s thoughts.

Somehow most of us got through 2017, which (on many fronts) was an annus horribilis, a truly horrible year. So I think we need all the coziness we can get. Speaking personally, I intend to celebrate Romjul until Epiphany.

I’ve spent the last few days basking in the publication of my new novel Arcanos Unraveled, which came out in December. I’ve also been eating Theobroma chocolates and reading fluffy interior design books. The decorating books will actually come in handy fairly soon, since Steve and I have bought land in New Mexico and are breaking ground on a new house this spring. [More about New Mexico and house design in a future post.]

My novel is already finding an appreciative audience, which is unexpectedly bittersweet, since I dedicated it to my friend and mentor Michael Levy, and I still can’t believe he’s gone from this world, and we’ll never sit together and talk about life and books again. Mike had the biggest heart imaginable, and I miss him every day.

I’m writing this on the 200th anniversary of the publication of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and in March my friend Sandy and I are going to the IAFA conference to celebrate Shelley’s legacy. Mike was the president of the IAFA for several years, and he and Sandy helped make the organization more open and inclusive. That’s just a small part of Mike’s legacy. I’ll just be giving a talk on golems, but Sandy will read her poetry and present a conference paper on Nnedi Okorafor. I’m hoping she’ll read one of her beautiful new poems about Mike.

Here’s to 2018, everyone. Let’s create art and do good work in the coming year, and may we always cherish memories of being loved.