What do you think?
Rate this book
Ebenezer
It’s Christmas Eve in the city that never sleeps, but Ebenezer doesn’t feel like celebrating. Her girlfriend of ten years has just left her, her job as a debt collector is slowly killing her, and worst of all, she hasn’t truly acted in years.
But when three spirits representing the places and ambitions closest to her heart pay her a visit, Ebenezer just might find a reason to end her life—or a reason to keep going.
Set during the global recession, this retelling of Charles Dickens’s immortal classic A Christmas Carol explores the vagaries of growing up and exchanging old dreams for new meaning.
But when three spirits representing the places and ambitions closest to her heart pay her a visit, Ebenezer just might find a reason to end her life—or a reason to keep going.
Set during the global recession, this retelling of Charles Dickens’s immortal classic A Christmas Carol explores the vagaries of growing up and exchanging old dreams for new meaning.
282 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 1, 2012
1 person is currently reading
803 people want to read
About the author
JoSelle Vanderhooft
26 books37 followersA dramaturg and something of a lapsed playwright, Vanderhooft works as a freelance journalist, poet and fiction writer. Her work has appeared or will soon appear in print and online in such venues as Aofie’s Kiss, Byzarium, Cabinet des Fées, Jabberwocky, Not One of Us, MYTHIC, Mythic Delirium, Reflections Edge, Star*Line and several others.
To date, she has published seven poetry books: 10,000 Several Doors (Cat’s Eye Publishing, 2005), The Minotaur’s Last Letter to His Mother (2007, Ash Phoenix Press, to be re-released by Sam’s Dot Publishing in the future), Ossuary (2007, Sam’s Dot Publishing), The Handless Maiden and Other Tales Twice Told (2008 Sam’s Dot Publishing), The Memory Palace (2009, Norilana Books) and Fathers, Daughters, Ghosts & Monsters (2009, VanZeno Press).
Her first novel The Tale of the Miller’s Daughter was released from Papaveria Press in June, 2006 and her second and third, Owl Skin, and Ebenezer, a retelling of A Christmas Carol, are forthcoming from Papaveria and Drollerie Press, respectively . She edited the Torquere Press anthology of lesbian fairytales Sleeping Beauty, Indeed (reissued in 2009 by Lethe Press) as well as Steam-Powered: Lesbian Steampunk Stories (2011, Torquere Press) and (with Catherine Lundoff) Hellebore & Rue, an anthology of stories about lesbian magic users (Drollerie Press, 2010). Bitten By Moonlight, an anthology of lesbian werewolf stories, will be released from Zumaya Books in 2011.
To date, she has published seven poetry books: 10,000 Several Doors (Cat’s Eye Publishing, 2005), The Minotaur’s Last Letter to His Mother (2007, Ash Phoenix Press, to be re-released by Sam’s Dot Publishing in the future), Ossuary (2007, Sam’s Dot Publishing), The Handless Maiden and Other Tales Twice Told (2008 Sam’s Dot Publishing), The Memory Palace (2009, Norilana Books) and Fathers, Daughters, Ghosts & Monsters (2009, VanZeno Press).
Her first novel The Tale of the Miller’s Daughter was released from Papaveria Press in June, 2006 and her second and third, Owl Skin, and Ebenezer, a retelling of A Christmas Carol, are forthcoming from Papaveria and Drollerie Press, respectively . She edited the Torquere Press anthology of lesbian fairytales Sleeping Beauty, Indeed (reissued in 2009 by Lethe Press) as well as Steam-Powered: Lesbian Steampunk Stories (2011, Torquere Press) and (with Catherine Lundoff) Hellebore & Rue, an anthology of stories about lesbian magic users (Drollerie Press, 2010). Bitten By Moonlight, an anthology of lesbian werewolf stories, will be released from Zumaya Books in 2011.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
July 28, 2016
Uplifting novel “Ebenezer” features lesbian’s (secular) spiritual journey learning to fight severe depression
(Before I start this, I want to mention that the Kindle sample is what hooked me, and that close toward the end of the sample there was something that caught me by complete surprise, bringing tears to my eyes. So maybe that’s all I really need to write — go read the sample.)
There are books and movies out there where we get to watch someone fight an illness, return to their roots, rekindle their love for what inspired them, or learn to treat their fellow humans with more compassion. They become tear-jerker, feel-good stories that win awards and everyone passes them around like Altoids.
If you’re in the LGBTQ+ umbrella, you know that most of the time, these books and movies only hit the big-time if the protagonist is straight (and cisgender.) After all, the mainstream only seems interested in our struggles if our struggles are somehow directly related to our queerness — Philadelphia was about AIDS, Brokeback Mountain showed a losing duel with the closet and homophobic violence. Boys Don’t Cry won an Oscar but, again, it was about transphobic violence. Where’s the Academy Award for the movie about the brave trans man who has to cope with almost losing his precious baby daughter to childhood cancer? No, the father in that movie has to be straight and cisgender for the mainstream to care.
And this sucks, because that means I have to jump up and down and wave my hands in the air to get people to know about Ebenezer, a novel by JoSelle Vanderhooft.
Vanderhooft has said that she wanted “to rescue A Christmas Carol from over a century of schmaltzifying and saccharine-coating and to get in touch with what makes this novella so strange, so haunting, and ultimately so awe-inspiring.” This is Christmas Carol like you’ve never seen it — distinctly un-Christianity-focused, distinctly a story about women. The main character, her mother and grandmother, her ex-girlfriend, her would-be best friend, the woman she tells herself it’s okay to persecute in the course of her soul-crushing job in collections, and most inspiringly of all, the three entities that come to teach her that it’s possible for her to claw her way out of her severe depression, all reinforce the idea that yes, women CAN be the dominant players in their own story, and a lesbian CAN be the protagonist even if the main skeleton of the story would have been completely the same starring a straight person.
With evocative language like “five foot four and frail as newspaper against December” and a passage in which the light from a street lamp is “honey” on the floor, the author awoke my senses and made it very easy for me to picture everything she described. I felt it had the perfect balance of plot and poetry — too much language with not enough actually happening would have lost me, but there’s no “dead weight” here, just well-decorated story.
Oddest of all, given that I’m a bisexual woman, I found myself completely at ease with the fact that the main character’s long-time girlfriend had left her and was now living with a man. Why? Because it didn’t happen because of her bisexuality. A lesbian Marley would also have left; Marley left because their relationship had too many problems on its own, independent of whoever was coming next in her life. And if a woman had been the one there to catch her on her way out, instead of a man, she would have gone with her instead. The main character was never biphobic in her anger and sorrow, either. It didn’t feel threatening to me at all.
I’ll say it again: the entire story would have worked with a straight protagonist, because at its heart, this is a story about a person coping with depression having a spiritual journey that teaches them that it’s possible for depression to be fought, even their depression. Ebbie’s depression is not in any way caused by homophobia or ‘learning to cope with her lesbianism’ or anything else like that. It’s so revolutionary for me to see people writing stories like that with us. It recognizes that yes, marginalized people can face huge, life-altering problems that don’t stem directly from their marginalized status. That we are part of the entire human experience and not just the symbols of our oppression.
This is a book without a present-day romance, yet it still stars a queer woman.
This is a book without sex, yet it still stars a queer woman.
Isn’t that neat? We get to exist.
(Before I start this, I want to mention that the Kindle sample is what hooked me, and that close toward the end of the sample there was something that caught me by complete surprise, bringing tears to my eyes. So maybe that’s all I really need to write — go read the sample.)
There are books and movies out there where we get to watch someone fight an illness, return to their roots, rekindle their love for what inspired them, or learn to treat their fellow humans with more compassion. They become tear-jerker, feel-good stories that win awards and everyone passes them around like Altoids.
If you’re in the LGBTQ+ umbrella, you know that most of the time, these books and movies only hit the big-time if the protagonist is straight (and cisgender.) After all, the mainstream only seems interested in our struggles if our struggles are somehow directly related to our queerness — Philadelphia was about AIDS, Brokeback Mountain showed a losing duel with the closet and homophobic violence. Boys Don’t Cry won an Oscar but, again, it was about transphobic violence. Where’s the Academy Award for the movie about the brave trans man who has to cope with almost losing his precious baby daughter to childhood cancer? No, the father in that movie has to be straight and cisgender for the mainstream to care.
And this sucks, because that means I have to jump up and down and wave my hands in the air to get people to know about Ebenezer, a novel by JoSelle Vanderhooft.
Vanderhooft has said that she wanted “to rescue A Christmas Carol from over a century of schmaltzifying and saccharine-coating and to get in touch with what makes this novella so strange, so haunting, and ultimately so awe-inspiring.” This is Christmas Carol like you’ve never seen it — distinctly un-Christianity-focused, distinctly a story about women. The main character, her mother and grandmother, her ex-girlfriend, her would-be best friend, the woman she tells herself it’s okay to persecute in the course of her soul-crushing job in collections, and most inspiringly of all, the three entities that come to teach her that it’s possible for her to claw her way out of her severe depression, all reinforce the idea that yes, women CAN be the dominant players in their own story, and a lesbian CAN be the protagonist even if the main skeleton of the story would have been completely the same starring a straight person.
With evocative language like “five foot four and frail as newspaper against December” and a passage in which the light from a street lamp is “honey” on the floor, the author awoke my senses and made it very easy for me to picture everything she described. I felt it had the perfect balance of plot and poetry — too much language with not enough actually happening would have lost me, but there’s no “dead weight” here, just well-decorated story.
Oddest of all, given that I’m a bisexual woman, I found myself completely at ease with the fact that the main character’s long-time girlfriend had left her and was now living with a man. Why? Because it didn’t happen because of her bisexuality. A lesbian Marley would also have left; Marley left because their relationship had too many problems on its own, independent of whoever was coming next in her life. And if a woman had been the one there to catch her on her way out, instead of a man, she would have gone with her instead. The main character was never biphobic in her anger and sorrow, either. It didn’t feel threatening to me at all.
I’ll say it again: the entire story would have worked with a straight protagonist, because at its heart, this is a story about a person coping with depression having a spiritual journey that teaches them that it’s possible for depression to be fought, even their depression. Ebbie’s depression is not in any way caused by homophobia or ‘learning to cope with her lesbianism’ or anything else like that. It’s so revolutionary for me to see people writing stories like that with us. It recognizes that yes, marginalized people can face huge, life-altering problems that don’t stem directly from their marginalized status. That we are part of the entire human experience and not just the symbols of our oppression.
This is a book without a present-day romance, yet it still stars a queer woman.
This is a book without sex, yet it still stars a queer woman.
Isn’t that neat? We get to exist.
August 22, 2015
Lovely, charming take on a classic.
I blazed through this after the sample pages dragged me in. I got it off a recommendation from a Twitter follower and wasn't sure what to expect. What a surprise when this turned out to be a lovely story, even if I'm reading it mid August. I'm 30 and really quite not straight, much like Ebenezer. I related to the hardships she went through, and loved the spirits of the past, present, and future. The imagery in this was wonderful, just enough without being overkill. I love that Ebenezer made the choice to move forward in such an authentic way for her character, not just with the usual money that this tale usually has. Her acerbic nature grew on me, so watching her muddle through sincerity and flirting toward the end was great. A moving retelling of a common tale, at least for those that have known loss, soul sucking jobs, lost love, and trying to relate to those around you when you're hurting. I'd buy it twice if I could. Merry Christmas indeed.
I blazed through this after the sample pages dragged me in. I got it off a recommendation from a Twitter follower and wasn't sure what to expect. What a surprise when this turned out to be a lovely story, even if I'm reading it mid August. I'm 30 and really quite not straight, much like Ebenezer. I related to the hardships she went through, and loved the spirits of the past, present, and future. The imagery in this was wonderful, just enough without being overkill. I love that Ebenezer made the choice to move forward in such an authentic way for her character, not just with the usual money that this tale usually has. Her acerbic nature grew on me, so watching her muddle through sincerity and flirting toward the end was great. A moving retelling of a common tale, at least for those that have known loss, soul sucking jobs, lost love, and trying to relate to those around you when you're hurting. I'd buy it twice if I could. Merry Christmas indeed.
December 6, 2015
2014 Rainbow Awards Honorable Mention (5* from at least 1 judge)
November 19, 2014
As someone who reads A Christmas Carol pretty much every year around Christmas time, when I heard about this modern-day, lesbian re-telling of the book I knew I had to read it. After opening it this morning, I found it hard to put it down again, so needless to say, it didn't disappoint. Ebenezer sort of felt like Dickens with a Rivers of London vibe, if that makes sense, and the writing (though awkward in a couple of places) was beautiful. If you like your Christmas reading to be both queer and depressing, this book is for you.
[Some trigger warnings though (skip this if you don't like spoilers of any kind): child abuse, discussion of suicide/suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt, self-loathing, minor ableism, minor warning for disordered eating due to financial struggles. I think that should probably cover it?]
[Some trigger warnings though (skip this if you don't like spoilers of any kind): child abuse, discussion of suicide/suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt, self-loathing, minor ableism, minor warning for disordered eating due to financial struggles. I think that should probably cover it?]
May 6, 2014
I enjoyed this book immensely! Basically because of the author's writing skills: " The cab slushed along the roads; the snow drifted down like dandelion seeds." And "Tim's voice was gray and hollow as a cracked bell. Happily or not, it toiled on brokenly." Sometimes, I just stopped reading to go back and reread the descriptive words. This is a Dickens's tale retold so that the children and younger generations can really apply it to themselves today in a way that may mean more to them than the original story. And yet there was enough changed in the story that really made you stop and think and often surprising! Enjoyable, GREAT reading! Anyone enjoying good literature should enjoy this book!
January 2, 2016
The back of the book says Contemporary Women. As I'm a man, I was not what you would call a core audience for the book. Nevertheless the book was beautifully written and I enjoyed reading it. The book was easy to read and, for a Finn, also easy to understand with not much difficult words. Writers usage of metaphores was also beautiful. I usually enjoy books with a stronger plot. Well written book, but plotwise not exactly for me.
This book was received for free through Goodreads First Reads.
This book was received for free through Goodreads First Reads.
Want to read
February 1, 2014Ebenezer!! Wow..., curious title. I love this cover book and sinopsis. and i hope that content in that book is great like the cover. curious to read.
Want to read
July 15, 2014I won this book but I haven't receive it yet. Does anyone know what the problem could be??
May 22, 2014
read it as a class, it was ok
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews