I (only sort of) Have My Love to Keep Me Warm

There’s a scene in my latest novel, Packed Together, in which two of the characters sing Irving Berlin’s 1937 hit song “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” at the piano. Not strictly a Christmas song, it was remade by many artists through the years and is still played during the holiday season.

The song’s lyrics are perfect for a historical romance like mine, in which the cast of characters - including two who are, in fact, falling in love - are snowed in by a blizzard.

However, you will NOT get to read those perfect lyrics when you read that scene, and I’ll explain why below.

First, some context: A pre-Christmas wedding at Buckeye Lake in 1946 is “crashed” by a holiday blizzard. Our main character, Rosie Graham, finds herself trapped inside an inn with some family, some friends, and some people with whom she definitely wouldn’t choose to spend Christmas. That’s because she’s got a pretty big secret she needs to keep from the Fairchild family (namely, her son, Charlie). She thinks she’ll do well to survive the holiday/storm with secrets still in place, so she’s definitely not expecting Gabe Adams to shift from her perceived villain to, instead, being the only person who really understands her.

Gabe and another key character sing a playful duet at the piano one evening while the blizzard refugees roast frankfurters over the fireplace. The song “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” talks about not being able to “remember a worse December” - about icicles forming, about the snow coming down, and about the wind blowing. Yet, the speaker decides it’s all fine and dandy because, as the title suggests, love will keep him warm.

When I originally drafted the scene, I was having a splendid time playing with the actions of the characters and the lyrics. Thankfully, my critique partner, Penny, left me an apologetic little note when I sent the chapter to her: “Copyright? You’d better check.”

I didn’t want to check. The scene worked really great with the lyrics.

Of course, I did check for many reasons (not the least of which has to do with fear of litigation). “Checking” led me down a discouraging rabbit hole, though, trying to figure out who currently owns the rights to the song. The librarian in me thought “fair use” was a stretch for a published novel, according to the definition, so I persisted. To make a long story short, I found the copyright info, and it was going to cost, at minimum, $300 for my characters to sing the actual lyrics of that Irving Berlin song. Possibly more.

I scowled at the computer, grumpy as I did the math about how many copies of Rosie’s story I’d have to sell just to climb out of that vintage music hole. Then, I scowled some more as I … sigh … rewrote the scene.

I thought I’d share that little “behind the scenes” drafting story with you because I’ve been taunted by the tune so many times this season. I wonder if you’ve heard it, too? Honestly, I still love it. If my husband reads this, he might consider this an explanation for one of the times he overheard me growling and mumbling to myself in my office.

Want to snuggle up now with that final scene, plus a lot of others that make up Packed Together? I do still like the way the scene turned out! Order the novel here.