From Michelle: I met Marjorie Liu two years ago, after featuring one of her Dirk and Steel novels, "The Red Heart of Jade." In it, as with her new D&S release, "The Last Twilight," I noticed immediately Marjorie's immense talent. But the magic of her novels comes exactly from what makes Marjorie one of my favorite people: She is innately respectful of the basic rights of humanity, and seems compelled to move through her life's work guided by her heart as much as her brilliant mind. Please offer Marjorie your warmest Bella buongiorno - but, today, in Chinese, say, "Ni Hao!"

From Marjorie: I started writing this blog entry in Shanghai, during the city's worst snowstorm in almost fifty years. I was sitting at one of my favorite restaurants on my last day in China, partaking in some holiday festivities, and there was a belly dancer nearby shaking the bangles on her hips. She had a boa constrictor on her shoulders, and the two of them were grooving to a hard beat under the smoke machine and red lanterns. Some dude in cashmere and slick shoes stood up and started dancing, too, but all he got for his trouble was a chance to hold the snake.

But, I digress.

This week marks the beginning of Chinese New Year, a holiday that is a big deal for about one and half billion people in the world. But this year, record snowfall has completely shut down China's infrastructure. Trains have stopped operating, roads are closed - power companies are running low on the coal they need to generate electricity - there have been food shortages, rising prices on basic goods - heck, even Starbucks ran out of chocolate. Crops in some places have been ruined in a country that already has trouble growing enough to feed its population.

Nature, as we forget, is stronger than we are.

But what makes the circumstances even more disastrous is the timing: the snow has made it impossible for over one hundred million to get home for the holidays. I don't know if you've seen the pictures: according to CNN, in Guangzhou alone, hundreds of thousands have been camped on the street in front of the train station. Waiting for almost a week in freezing temperatures for just one chance to go home. For many, their only chance to go home for an entire year.

Most workers in China find jobs thousands of miles away from their families - and employers do not give days off. These migrant men and women are often expected to work seven days a week, with perhaps - at most - one day off a month to rest. Wages are more than what they would earn at home, but still a pittance. Much of the work, grueling and unsafe. Chinese New Year is the one holiday granted, unequivocally. For many, the idea of not going home is unbearable, unthinkable.

But this isn't meant to be a story about tragedy - instead, it's a commentary on dedication, the power of never giving up - a tale about the holiday spirit. Or rather, the spirit of home and family - what sacrifices a person will make to preserve them - or get a taste of what they love, even for just a day. Even if it means enduring crushing circumstances on a hope, an infinitesimal chance.

That's the story. That's the beauty. And to those who celebrate Chinese New Year, and to those who do not, I wish you a joyous year. May you carry your home with you in your heart, no matter how far you go. May you live for what you love, and may you love what you live for.

What do you live for; about what are you passionate? -- and - What would you like to know about the way families celebrate Chinese New Year?


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