Dev Friedlander's Blog, page 3

Writing Slips

They say the magic of writing occurs during the editing process. I agree I find it not only magical but also amusing as I catch some of my errors. As they al...

How Do I Sound?

Six pounds and twelve ounces, my beautiful new bundle felt much lighter in my arms. Just one last test before I could take her home, a routine hearing test, w...

Siblings

Siblings, you can’t live with them, can’t live without them; until about adulthood when it becomes clear that they weren’t simply born to annoy you. Should I...

The Punishment of a Good Deed

It is my belief that kindness is always rewarded. Wait, you may say, what about that famous phrase, “no good deed goes unpunished?” I don’t subscribe to such a philosophy; my experience has been the opposite. While the reward may not follow swiftly or even be comparable to the original kind deed, it eventually comes, and often I find it arrives right when I need it most. I first noticed this phenomenon when I was thirteen years old. My class had earned an ice cream party. When my teacher unloaded the order, my friend realized she had chosen the wrong flavor and the only one left would hurt her stomach. I offered her mine, sorbet, and instead I went without ice cream for the party. Poor me, right? Wrong! A few weeks later, the teacher bought me a double scoop from the same store which I was even allowed to eat during a test, making other students mutter, “I should have given up my ice cream.” The rewards are certainly not always tit for tat. I’ve seen them come in the form of money, food, a kind word and yes, favors. I remember once going the extra mile for a sick child who I taught at a preschool. Years later the effort I made came back to me in the form of a helpful nurse when I gave birth to my first child. In another instance, I gave a ride to someone, which took me forty minutes out of my way. Also, years later, the favor was repaid when a remote acquaintance helped me when I was lost by personally getting in my car and riding with me until I found where I was going, even though it was out of their way. It’s easy to brush all of what I’m saying aside and call it coincidence, but I have seen this principle in action in the lives of others. An example that fills me with pride was the time my daughter gave her prize to a child who was crying. A week later, her grandmother sent her a toy she had been dreaming of for months, and no, I did not tip off grandma! I once saw a stranger at the pool help another stranger find her daughter, then a few minutes later the other woman saved her baby from going under the water. The list goes on, but my favorite example is the one that happened to my father. My father runs what is called a daily minyan, in which it’s his job to gather ten people together in prayer every day. Many years ago, just before the 1996 summer Olympics in Atlanta, the torch run was scheduled to pass by his part of town at that exact time as the prayer services. Not surprisingly, my father had a tough time gathering 10 people who were willing to miss out on seeing the torch run through the neighborhood. As an avid lover of all things Olympics, my father also wanted to see the torch pass by, but there was a man who needed to say the mourner's Kaddish, so my father persisted until a minyan was formed. Eleven years later, my father needed to say mourner's Kaddish and there was trouble gathering the last man for the service. Just before they were about to give up, a man walked in and the quorum was made. After services were over, this man walked up to my father and introduced himself as the same man my father worked so hard to get a minyan for that very day back in 1996! The man said he had been looking to repay my father for his kindness and now he was grateful to have the opportunity. Sometimes the reward for kindness is delayed, sometimes it is transferred or transformed. But it in my experience, it is never, ever punished. It is always rewarded, somehow, someway.

If I could, I would

Please don’t ask me to speak Hebrew. Yes, I know I live in Israel and Hebrew is the official language. Yes, I know there is a chance my grandkids won’t speak English and that I may not be able to speak with them. Please don’t tell me I sound like a spoiled American who doesn’t feel the need to integrate, because quite to the contrary if I could speak Hebrew, I most certainly would. My problem with speaking Hebrew is two-pronged: The first, I have a learning disability (LPD- Language Processing Disorder) which makes acquiring any language a struggle. The fact that I can communicate in English is only a result of many years of tutoring I received as a child. Second, I have a phobia of speaking Hebrew specifically. No, it doesn’t come from worrying about how I sound; the root of the fear is much deeper than that. When I was in grade school, I struggled and battled to simply learn the basics of Hebrew reading. I spent innumerable hours practicing the sounds of the letters and vowels instead of doing what other kids would do in their free time. But the struggle in of itself didn’t create a phobia for me. Instead, it came from an experience I had on the first day of class. I had signed up for an elective which I was very excited about. I was excited about the class because the teacher was a highly respected Rabbi. On that fateful first day, he asked the students to open their books to the first page of Samuel and to go around the classroom and read aloud. When it was my turn, he stopped me before I began and said, “girls, I taught Devorah’s sister a few years ago. She remains one of the best students I have ever had, her reading was exceptionally good. Let’s see if it’s a family trait.” He then motioned for me to start. I read as best I could, but it was stunted and awful. The look of disappointment and shock in this teacher’s eyes was unmistakable, he skipped over me the next time my turn came around to read. I dropped the class and chose a different elective. But from that day on, I refused to read Hebrew aloud. Fast forward to Ulpan (Hebrew learning course for new immigrants to Israel) almost a decade later, and I found myself again forced to read aloud. I tried, and while the teacher was patient, I choked on the words. I had my first panic attack in Ulpan when the teacher gave an assignment that was too difficult for my level. I left the building wheezing. The idea of having to sit through Hebrew classes all my life was unbearable. After much soul-searching, I decided for my wellbeing and happiness that I would not speak Hebrew. Yes, I know that angers some people, but let’s try and look at it this way: Would you like to solve a complex math equation every time you try to order food at a restaurant or buy a bus ticket or even book a doctor's appointment? That’s right, a math equation that is beyond your ability to solve, and if you get it wrong your order won’t come or you'll be on a bus to the wrong destination or your appointment will be with the wrong type of doctor. Like most people, I don’t like being in school every second of every day. It’s exhausting. As I said, if I could speak Hebrew I would. And yes, I have tried. Rosetta Stone, Duolingo, TV shows, private tutors, Ulpan (3 times for multiple months), friends speaking with me in Hebrew, children shouting at me in Hebrew, and notes placed around the house. I have tried, I have failed. I don’t want the learning of Hebrew to be my barrier to happiness, so I have decided to no longer let it be. This presents its own challenges, but at least I can manage through them. If you can learn a new language, I encourage you to do so with all my heart. There is much to be said with being bilingual, I love that my children are. But please don’t ask me to be. If I could, I would; but I simply can’t, so I shan’t. אין מה לעשות

One Year

About one year ago I started writing a blog called “Swimming Upstream.” My first post revealed the secret dream I had of becoming an author. I didn’t know what to expect. I’m not famous by any means, and I had no followers, no social media presence beyond Facebook, and not much to my credit in terms of published work. Also, at that point I had received twenty-four rejections of my first book, so the odds of more disappointment were greater than they had ever been. With virtually nothing to lose, I pressed POST. I spent the next few months writing articles I hoped would grab people’s attention. The blog started out about writing, that was the purpose, to document my writing struggles. I wrote about rejection, my struggle with dyslexia, and the small successes I had along the journey. But the blogs that received the most hits were about my own personal stories. Posts about my children, fears, and irritations were far more widely read. This surprised me as I thought it would be the reverse. I thought people would be more interested in what it takes to publish a book than the grime I find stuffed under my children’s beds. But when I examine it closer, it wasn’t surprising at all. Not everyone is writing a book, but most people understand the frustrations of a messy bedroom. Most people don’t worry about sentence structure and word confusion in their daily lives, but many do relate to the feelings of being asked embarrassing questions by strangers which they would rather not answer. One of the first rules they taught me in creative writing class was to be relatable; know your audience. That has become my number one aim in writing my blogs: To create posts that others can identify with on a personal level. Still, I will continue to chronicle my writing journey, but I will always bear in mind my wider audience when choosing topics. In celebration of my one year “blogging anniversary”, I’d like to take a moment to share with you the milestones I had along the way… · Most liked Post: My first, “I Have a Secret.” - 450 views. · Least liked Post: “In Defense of the Cliché.” - 19 Views. · Number of blogs posted: 34 · Created a new website, joined Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, LinkedIn, and GoodReads · Number of people who have visited my website in the last three months: 706 · My goal was to publish my first book, You See Me, which was achieved on October 15, 2019. · Copies sold so far: 84 estimated. To think that just one year ago, all I had was a Facebook page, a manuscript, and a hope to hold my book in my hands. I would like to take this moment, with grateful tears in my eyes, to thank you, my readers and supporters! Let’s see what year two brings to us all!

The Fun of Flight

“I’m never getting on a plane again,” I declare as I stumble over an open suitcase lying next to a pile of dirty clothing. It’s a lie, of course, I will be getting on a plane again soon and intend to get on more after that. To where? I have no idea, but I wish I could get there by some other means of transportation. What do I have against planes? Let me start at the airport. Airports remind me of temporary prisons: You must follow procedures as dictated, your movement is restricted to certain areas and you are subject to random searches. Family may only visit you at designated locations and you must be signed out to leave if you travel to a different country. The similarities really are uncanny if you think about it. But flying is a privilege you say. Yes, I am quite privileged to have a pressurized cabin induced headache, leg cramps, and a dry mouth. My armrest has been taken by my daughter on my left and I don’t like the idea of waking my daughter on my right when I need to use the bathroom, but all that water I drank to make my ears pop has caught up with me and I really can’t hold it for another ten hours so I go ahead and nudge her shoulder and endure the sleepy glare. Isn’t flying fun? When we arrive in Amsterdam for a 14-hour layover after a 9-hour redeye flight, my daughter points out that the train is far more comfortable than the plane. The seats are wider, there is no cabin pressure and there’s plenty of space to climb over my seat partner to use the bathroom. I have to say, I think she is on to something… Please don’t get me wrong, I am grateful air travel exists. I know that getting around by trains isn’t practical. I’m also aware that security is important, and I don’t begrudge the airport for taking precautions. I’m not sure how they could make it more pleasant unless they gave us more legroom, perhaps more water to drink and seats that lean all the way back. Wait, my husband tells me this already exists. It’s called first class. No wonder the people who walk out of first-class look so perky when they exit the plane. So, I have a problem, on the one hand, I love seeing new places and meeting new people. I love going to visit family and friends. I’m excited to take dozens of pictures and buy souvenirs. I enjoy visiting museums and shops and local restaurants. But on the other hand, it’s all ruined when I enter the terminal and the time to get on a plane draws ever closer. As I’m being frisked by security and my bags are searched and swiped for bomb-making material, I almost begin to wonder if I should give sea travel a try.

All I Really Want...

This time of year, people are very busy with gifting. While it’s always better (and more fun) for me to give presents to others, there are a couple of things I would love to receive. It’s not always easy to know what someone may enjoy or prefer in a gift, so I’ll come right out and say it. I would enjoy an iTunes gift card to expand my playlist, pens that work, hand lotion from Sabon (the patchouli Lavender Vanilla flavor) and reviews of my book. Actually, forget about all the gifts, all I really want are book reviews. As an author, the best way to become well known is to sell books. The only way to sell books is if people know to buy your book, and the best way for people to know to buy your book is when they see it being advertised or listed higher up on bookseller’s websites. The books with the most reviews get pushed higher and so the cycle snowballs. As a result, what I need more than anything are some more reviews of my book. So, if you are in the giving mood, here are a couple of options for posting a review. You can either go to the site where you purchased the book originally; for example Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository. Or, if you have purchased the book from me directly, some great places to leave reviews are Goodreads or even Facebook. I know reviewing takes time. I’ve been there. I spent about six minutes thinking of something to say, another six editing what I’d written and then another ten figuring out what I did wrong and how to do it correctly. Please know, that when you write your review of a book, you are giving one of the greatest gifts a person can give the author, your time! I’d like to take this opportunity to thank those who have reviewed my book up until now. It means more to me than I can say in words! I can’t tell you how many times I have cried tears of gratitude for the thoughtful comments that many of you have taken the time to write. So, don’t worry about buying me socks, or chocolate or even a gift card. All I want this season is your review. Wishing all my readers a very happy Holiday Season; whether you celebrate Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, or nothing specific at all, may this coming year bring us all joy, good health, and much happiness. Please comment below what gifts you would like to receive.

I'd Rather Not Say

“So, are you going to have any more children?” asked the woman who I had just met five minutes ago during a wedding reception I recently attended. “No,” I replied, “But aren’t the meat skewers delicious?” trying to direct the conversation in a different course. “Oh,” the woman clutched the strand of beads around her neck, “And why is that?” not giving up easily on the topic of children. I have been asked why I only have three children by dinner guests, hairstylists, men and yes, strangers. Most of the time I try to deflect the question but sometimes people persist, which is why I feel it is time to address this issue. During my last pregnancy I had gestational diabetes and I was told that the condition was most likely to recur with the next pregnancy. What is more, the diabetes could become a lifelong condition after pregnancy. Ever since then, I have kept a strict diet and exercise regimen to lessen my chance of becoming a full-blown diabetic. While a recent blood test indicated my blood sugar level was in the normal range, it was nearing the higher end of the scale and I was instructed to keep vigilant. If that wasn’t enough, I suffered from postpartum depression which seemed to get worse with every pregnancy. I know that talking about these conditions can make some people uncomfortable and to be frank, I don’t enjoy sharing them either. But when people ask a woman why they are not having more children, what answer are they truly expecting to hear in response? Prodding people to reveal why they have the number of children they do isn’t simply rude, it’s also unkind. Still, some people feel it’s their duty to keep the world’s population growth in an upward momentum. I understand where they are coming from. Being a religious person, I am fully aware of the beauty and privilege of having many children. I am aware of my obligations and have spoken to the necessary authorities about my issues and they agree completely that I should stop worrying about having more and instead focus on raising the three beautiful girls I have been blessed with. We all struggle with conversation starters and I also have a tough time dealing with awkward silence. But inquiring about why someone isn’t having more children shouldn’t be a go-to ice breaker. Rather, most people enjoy talking about the children they already have. Asking about their age, after-school actives and interests are all great conversation makers; bonus points if you ask to see pictures. I know that I love talking about my children, it’s a topic I know I could go on and on about. That is, if you don’t mind listening.

Getting Social

I like to think of myself as a social person. I enjoy getting coffee with friends and inviting people over for dinner. Yet when it comes to social media, I’m not quite as outgoing. I’m always unsure of what to post. Do people want to know that I nailed my last batch of cookies? How many pictures of my children do people care to see? And should I brag about every small win or bemoan each little setback? The answers to all those questions vary because people’s opinions differ. Some people tell me to post whatever I feel while others tell me to be more cautious. I’ve learned the hard way when statements are made publicly, people tend to share their opinions of said statements. I’ve dealt with rude comments, hurt feelings and strangers telling me to google my questions instead of wasting their time. I’ve also had wonderful interactions with people I’ve never met and gained perspectives on subjects I thought my mind had been closed off from. It’s a hard balance, one I’m not sure I’ve figured out completely yet. Still, I’m on more social platforms than ever before. As a writer, I must market my book to any media source that will have me. Pushing my book goes against my nature. It feels abrasive. People will either like my story or they won’t, but first, they must know about it to form an opinion. Facebook: Facebook has been the easiest social media platform for me to navigate. I know how to create a Facebook page, like, post and comment. What I don’t enjoy about Facebook is keeping up with all the groups I have joined. I get so many notifications informing me of the posts I need to read. I feel bad when I see a great post and don’t have time to comment, it feels like a wasted opportunity to connect. LinkedIn: In the beginning, I shied away from LinkedIn. I thought it was for big corporations and businesses. Well, it turns out I am running a business; therefore, I need to be on LinkedIn. At first, I enjoyed the format of LinkedIn and made connections with people. The quality of the posts was most professional and informative. Then came the personal messages. I was expecting some business pitches or sales, after all, it is LinkedIn. But that’s not all that came. I received messages from people asking why I wanted a connection with them. It felt like a job interview, the essential question being, was I worthy of their connection? I understand their wariness, after all, I am looking for their support. But isn’t that what LinkedIn is all about? Growing a business? Twitter: A very nice friend helped me set up my account on this social media platform. For a long time, I couldn’t understand why if I had Facebook and LinkedIn, did I need Twitter? The answer is, because it’s 2019. I’ve watched countless YouTube videos on how Twitter works, to be honest, I’m still a bit confused. My tweets are met with crickets, while my retweets are popular. And why in G-d’s name would I need a list of people to Tweet with? Isn’t that what followers are for? As you can see, I’m still not a twitter expert, not sure if I will ever hold that title. #Whyistwittersocomplicated? If I had it my way, I’d reach people the old-fashioned way, through a meet and greet at a coffee shop. But sadly, it seems the old ways are no longer as effective or efficient. So, if you find me making blunders on LinkedIn, Facebook or Twitter, please know I am trying to figure it all out. But if you want a connection, a real one, message me and let’s talk. It’s my favorite way to connect.