By Lisa Loraine Baker
It’s December, which reminds me how much I love Christmas stories, both reading and writing them. All our favorite seasonal books have been brought up from storage and I placed them on a shelf above the one holding our manger scene. One by one I hope to pour through them and re-live the wonder of each and gain inspiration for more stories. Our favorites include Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, The Christmas Train (David Baldacci), and a new pick, The Ornament Keeper by Eva Marie Everson. Give me a warm mug of tea and a cozy chair and I’m good to go on my literary journeys.
And now it’s time for my annual drive through the neighborhood of my youth, always at dusk after a 
nice snow. The memories of coal-fired furnace aromas warm my heart as much as its intense heat warmed my body each morning after Dad stoked the furnace. Coal dust colored the snow back then, but we took no notice as we slid on the brick road (bumpy though it was) and made ginormous snowmen. It’s what it was. A treasure.
These days, I park down the street from 832—the old address—and make my way toward the house, now occupied by strangers. By now it’s the only residence in the once burgeoning multi-ethnic community, but the snow not only softens the ragged edges of abandoned houses, it also gives a hint of radiance to what once was.
As I focus on the yellow glowing lights through the windows of the house, I pause to remember our almost constant flow of Christmastime visitors. We weren’t a Christian household, but the seasonal spirit filled our home. As I stare (and hope no one mistakes me for someone casing the house), images come to mind. I had what I consider a fun childhood and along with the positive images come scenarios of what might have been if…
My latest “what if” story centered on my dad. He spent a lot of time away from his family while he frequented bars. I envisioned walking into my vacant childhood home after Dad died and saw lights in rooms I knew no one occupied. I entered an illumined room and was transported to a tavern scene where a man I perceived was an angel spoke to my dad. It’s my favorite Christmas story because it ends with hope. This story came to me during last year’s trek to the old hood. I titled it, Gone Home.
Each year, I recall characters from down the alley and friends from across the street. I try to “hear” the sounds of long-ago conversations and wait for the scenes that have remained hidden in my mind. They are unearthed as I reflect and, when struck by them, I’m emboldened to add a new character or a new scene and delight to see where it takes me.
Whether memories are good or ill, nostalgic tours create a great storehouse of ideas for your fiction. I’m blessed to live near where I grew up, so it’s easy to take the annual reminiscence trip. If you’re far from your childhood home, go there with closed eyes and, with your imagination, travel the paths of your past. Look for people you’ve forgotten or pathways you have yet to investigate.
Don’t forget your camera, phone, or notepad—whichever suits the need; the ideas will flow!
As always, laugh often, love with abandon, and write about it. While you’re at it, have a very Merry Christmas as you celebrate the wondrous incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ!
Whether memories are good or ill, nostalgic tours create a great storehouse of ideas for your fiction. @LisaLBaker82 #ACFWBlogs #writetip #critiques #ACFWCommunity Click To Tweet
Lisa Loraine Baker and her husband, Stephen, inhabit their home with crazy cat, Lewis. Lisa is the award-winning author of “Someplace to be Somebody” (End Game Press, February 2022), and is a regular contributor to the Salem Web Network. She has two novels in progress.