Four New Year’s Lessons From Hallmark Christmas Movies

This blog usually goes silent for one of two reasons: I’m too busy to post, or I don’t have anything encouraging to say. This hiatus has been a bit of both, but mostly the second one.

I started November on a (non-literal) high. I had a novel revision goal, and I was expecting spectacular news on my mystery project. But by the end of November, things had devolved rather dramatically. I’d fallen extremely short on my revision goal, and got devastating news on my mystery project that basically equated to, “Thanks, but no thanks, but why not start from scratch and try again?”

I took December to regroup and focus on being very Christmas-y. But now it’s January, a time for resolutions and fresh starts, February, the time to come to terms with already ignoring your resolutions. I knew I was long overdue at posting something. But what? How do I glean some encouragement from a season of disappointment and endless waiting?

I decided to turn to a source of perpetual cheer and optimism–Hallmark movies.

In Defense of Hallmark

I know, I know. I can hear your groans from here. But stick with me for a second. Yes, Hallmark movies are formulaic and cliqued and even though there’s about 40 new ones a year (not exaggerating) they’re all basically the same. But millions of people watch them, maybe up to 80 million people, and I think I know why.

There’s something undeniably comforting about that formula. In a world where everything feels out of control, it’s nice to know almost exactly what will happen and have 100% confidence that things will work out perfectly. Realistic? Nah. That’s exactly the point.

I start watching Hallmark movies while I decorate my tree shortly after Thanksgiving. Because I insist on cramming a tree meant for a manor home in my tiny one bedroom apartment, it often takes me two days and three full movies to finish decorating. Then I’m usually so busy throughout December that I don’t get through many more until Christmas is over, but I DVR a bunch so I can watch them until the end of January, soaking up an extra month of Christmas vibes with none of the Christmas stress. Then I face ten months of reality before I tune in again.

So instead of a deep dive into coping with disappointment or an open ended treatise on having faith while waiting for something, here are four tongue-in-cheek but also serious lessons I’ve gleaned from my latest Hallmark season.

Also, I wasn’t kidding about that tree.

Leave Your Unfulfilling Situation Behind

Okay, so this lesson is kind of cheating, because I learned it two years ago when I left my job. But I think it bears repeating, because it’s kind of the point of this entire blog. Is it fair to say I left my job because I watched so many Hallmark heroines do the same thing? Maybe subconsciously.

Beyond the obligatory scenes–choosing and then decorating a Christmas tree, baking cookies, and kissing (often for the first time) two minutes before the end–Hallmark movies tend to involve certain plot trends. One of the most common is, “Main character is good at their career but works way too hard to the detriment of their personal life. By the end of the movie they will fall in love (with someone who is probably royal, related to Santa, or at the very least obsessed with Christmas), triumphantly quit their job, and start a more fulfilling venture.” That main character is usually, but not always, a woman.

So, I didn’t fall in love or leave a big city for an imaginary country or a town obsessed with Christmas. But I did leave the job I was good at to do what I really loved. And even through the challenges of the past few months, I absolutely stand by that decision.

Why is Hallmark telling millions of people to leave their jobs? Maybe because it’s comforting to imagine saying “no thanks” to everything that causes you stress and doing what you love instead–especially when you know it’s going to work out. Money never buys happiness in Hallmark movies (although you do have a higher than average likelihood of dating royalty, which should pay all the bills and then some).

I don’t actually advise making drastic life choices because of someone you met a few days ago, but in the best Hallmark movies the love interest is just the person that makes the heroine/hero see what the viewer notices right away–they need a change. Endless work may make them successful, but it doesn’t make them happy or fulfilled, especially if they’re not working at the right thing. And hey, I decided to upend my life thanks to one offhand comment from a colleague. So maybe your catalyst is this silly blog post about Hallmark movies. Or maybe one day you will end up with a holiday meet-cute to make me jealous and your holiday beau will help you course-correct. But Hallmark reminds us that life can change suddenly–and maybe it should! But we have to take that big scary leap.

Embrace the Unexpected

I think these two lessons go hand and hand. Sometimes the unexpected is career related–a new job in a new town, starting your own business, moving to a different country. And sometimes it’s a new relationship with a prince, a pro soccer (football) player, a wounded Norwegian skier, that air traffic controller who was giving you grief when you were just trying to do your job and land a plane, a guy pretending to be a Duke who’s not even a Duke, or a famous actor from the 1940’s. (Points to anyone who can name all those movies! Yes, I did watch every one and plenty more.)

But sometimes the unexpected has nothing to do with love or work. Little decisions can make a big impact. I tend to cling to routine and burrow down in my comfort zone, but I acknowledge that when I do that, things get stale. No one wants to watch a Hallmark movie (or any movie) about someone who does the exact same thing over and over (unless they’re stuck in a time loop, which sometimes happens during Hannukah), because it’s boring.

Spontaneity makes life interesting. In one film, nine strangers stranded in an airport decide to rent a van and road trip together to their destination. Most of them have reservations about this, but desperation–or a sense of adventure–leads them all to agree. During the trip they bond, they work through personal and family issues, they make it to Denver by Christmas and yes, two of them fall in love. If they hadn’t agreed to something uncomfortable and unconventional, they would have stayed at the airport for a few days until they eventually caught another flight, likely with nothing but angst and complaints about the situation. Instead, they made new friends and had an adventure of a lifetime.

Look, sometimes your uncle calls you and tells you he needs help finishing an ice castle, so you fly to Scandinavia. Sometimes you’re stranded on an island and you can either be mad about it or you can embrace every local tradition and help build the town Christmas tree made of lobster traps. When a swoony Norwegian offers you a free plane ticket to his hometown because you have the same name as his assistant that just quit, you can stay at home grieving your grandma and moping about not finishing your dissertation or you can FLY TO NORWAY.

You can take that chance, have that experience, or you can do the boring, expected thing. There’s no way to know in advance how either will turn out. But it’s not hard to guess which could be a good story. Potentially even a lifechanging one.

There’s something for me to work on in 2024 for sure.

Things Get Worse Before They Get Better

In most books and movies, the conflict heats up in the third (and final) act. Things get hard for our beloved main character, and then they triumphantly rise about that challenge, thanks to the growth they experienced throughout the story and a new resolve they found after their dark night of the soul.

In Hallmark movies, things typically go wrong right before the final commercial break. The American flees the made-up foreign country because she’s a maid turned nanny who’s been wrongfully accused of stealing the prince’s engagement ring or an architect with a criminal ex-fiancé who the paparazzi claims is a gold-digging crook. The heroine gets scared of the pressures of becoming a Duchess so she freaks out at her brother, dumps her new Scottish hunk, and goes back to America. Even though the rich but previously emotionally distant family wants to stay on the Christmas-obsessed Canadian island where they’ve been stranded for the past week to rekindle their love for each other and the holidays, they force their private pilot, who is now in love with the air traffic controller she met on the island, to take them back to Switzerland.

Traditionally these low point moments often hinged on a misunderstanding or a secret that’s come to light. (Like, he never told me he came to town to buy my family’s ski lodge/factory/bakery/Christmas tree lot/quaint holiday inn/maple syrup farm/the entire town and turn it into a corporate monstrosity.) But in a lot of this year’s movies, I noticed that fear, not secrets, almost blew up the happy endings. To me, that’s a lot more relatable.

I get it. It’s a big leap of faith to move to a new place, or take a chance on a relationship, or contemplate becoming royalty. Or leave your job. These past few months especially, I’ve had moments of fear. What if none of my books ever get published, what if this secret project falls through entirely, what if I can’t pay for stuff?

But after the low point comes the triumphant reversal. Someone turns the car or plane around. Misunderstandings are forgiven. The heroine realizes that the change they need to make is scary, but they’re up for the challenge. There’s a kiss–always a kiss–but there’s often a “one year later” scene that shows that taking a risk and making a change paid off. They’re successful and happy in their new job or their new locale. And that happiness is sweeter because they were so miserable five minutes ago.

Happiness hits different when there’s more emotional contrast. Without downs the ups don’t seem so triumphant, and we can get a bit emotionally stagnant. That doesn’t make us feel any better when we’re in the midst of hard times, but man do we appreciate it when things improve!

You never know when the thing you’ve been waiting for is right around the horizon. (Unless you’re watching a Hallmark movie. Then you 100% know. It’s at one hour and fifty-five minutes.) But if you’re struggling now, that just means the relief, joy, and excitement will feel even better when it finally arrives.

Here’s to looking forward to that!

Happy Endings are Better (Don’t Be a Cynic)

In one surprisingly plot heavy movie, the main character is a writer hired to rewrite a classic Christmas film. She argues that the remake ought to have a modern “realistic” unhappy ending. The producer basically tells her she’s wrong, because no one really wants that. And then, because of some indeterminate magic (like, maybe he’s descended from Santa and also the hourglass is magic for reasons) she gets sent back to the set of the original film. In the 40’s. Turns out the movie was originally going to have a bummer ending. And the writer quickly realizes she needs to make sure the happy ending is restored. While, you know, falling in love with one of the actors. In the past.

This is a strangely personal lesson, but maybe someone can relate for different reasons. I’ve been working on this novel of mine for about nineteen years, and there are some pretty dark points. I’ve been known to say that’s because I was unhappy in high school. Now I think it might be because I loved His Dark Materials as a kid and the ending of The Amber Spyglass broke me. I thought the tragic ending made my book gritty, different, more realistic.

Thank goodness for my writing critique group. They’re always lovingly encouraging me to spare my characters. But also to think about what readers want. What I want from the books I read.

Truth be told I hate tragedies. I don’t care if it’s beautiful of whatever, they leave me totally unsatisfied. Romeo and Juliet is dumb. The ending of Hadestown kills me so I just pretend the end of the soundtrack doesn’t exist. Just like the writer in this movie, I’ve realized that happy endings are best. That doesn’t mean bad stuff can’t happen along the way. Without conflict, entertainment isn’t all that entertaining. But life–and fiction–is always better when there’s a thread of hope promising that somehow, someway, everything is going to work out. Isn’t it better to embrace that hope rather than dogmatically clinging to an unsustaining pessimism because of “realism” or “art” or whatever? I’ve never met a cynic having a good time.

Of course, I’m writing a duology, and book one still ends on a low–sorry Forge. But I promise the book two ending, the real ending, will be a lot cheerier than it might have been, thanks to you. And also to Hallmark.

Want to take a guess whether they found a solution to their time traveling romance?

If they can work that out, there’s hope for my real world problems yet!

Final Thoughts

There were several lessons that didn’t make the final cut because they were less inspirational, like, “Not all high school classes fail at holding reunions” (Made Up High School Class of 2007 was cursed, and they still managed to pull off a 15 year reunion, unlike Very Real High School Class of 2004, which probably won’t have a 20 year reunion either and how did I get so freakin’ old??). Also, “British Christmas traditions are just more fun.” (I will always be thrilled Christmas in Notting Hill included a bunch of confused Yanks going to a panto because seeing one in London was one of the most befuddling experiences in my life–like, our motherland used to do that but Americans just chose to FORGET because it’s so bizarre and we are not doing that here!)

As 2024 unwinds and we face the dreaded real world, may we all hold on to just a touch of that Hallmark Christmas spirit, where striking out on your own is always rewarded, new friends and lovers and adventure await at the nearest holiday-obsessed town, and you’ll get everything you didn’t even know you needed in two hours (minus commercials).