Next, I pay attention to my surroundings: the iridescent green of a hummingbird whirring through the eucalyptus leaves outside my window. That enormous hawk I spotted sunning her creamy chest in the sun’s early rays high on a redwood spire. My mother always said she wanted to be a bird in her next life. Now I’m sure of it. I imagine her spreading her spirit wings at dawn, then nesting with them again at dusk.
Stories are like mushrooms. Who knows where they start or end? Perhaps you stumble across one on a walk in the redwoods at dusk after a spring shower has drenched the earth and the conditions are just right. The setting sun streaks the trees in glowing bronze.
Adventure, Love, and Seeking Myself in 1960s Israel An excerpt from “Newcomers in an Ancient Land” “I crept along a dirt road under a black dome studded with stars on my way to my job as a volunteer in the vineyards of Kibbutz Dan. At four in the morning, only the chirping of crickets and…
I’m so excited to share the mockup cover for Outsiders in France, the long awaited sequel to my first book. Like Newcomers in an Ancient Land, it’s part travelog and part self-exploration, but this time set France – with side trips to Algeria, Europe, the Balkans, and back to England where my twin sister and…
Writing a memoir is like setting off on a long journey, destination unknown. Straining under the weight of your own baggage – most of it unconscious – you’re soon forced to sort your memories for what rings true and what does not, what to keep and what to toss. And like that ancient traveler, Odysseus,…
Passover is my favorite Jewish holiday. As a kid, I loved the rituals, songs and ceremonial foods commemorating the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt over 3,000 years ago. Okay, I admit it was tough to wait for hours before dinner finally arrived, but luckily my mother’s snacks and my dad’s irreverent sense…
“You make the path by walking on it.” — Antonio Machado In writing Newcomers in an Ancient Land – the story of my youthful quest for adventure, love and self-discovery in 1960’s Israel – one of my biggest challenges was figuring out how to keep readers engaged through all the twists and turns of my…
The pitch black sky was studded with stars as I crept down the dimly lit paths of Kibbutz Dan on my way to work in the kerem (vineyards) at 4:30 in the morning. My heart thumped as I passed the terra cotta bungalows, children’s houses, health center and hadar ha’ochel (dining room). The exhilarating scent…
I shuddered at the thought of venomous vipers, as snakes were called. But darkness had long since fallen and I could no longer put off finding a place to sleep. The youth hostel was full, my fair weather English friends were sleeping on the beach, and I’d finally given up on finding my road partner…
The Negev Desert was a land of extremes – by day a white-hot griddle; by night a blackened skillet; at dawn a copper pot; at dusk a painted gourd. Its unforgiving rocks and sharp scent reminded me of my early childhood in Texas and Kansas, where the harshness of the land had somehow made me…