Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 232
September 22, 2013
A Lovely Composition by AEL
Praveen from AEL Data Services LLC wrote this to me:
"Our team has already fallen in love with your work "A Favorite Son" It's an amazing story. We want to feature "A Favorite Son" on our pages for that matter. Could you send me the material required for this novel?"
I sent him a brief article about the inspiration for the book, which will be posted soon. Meanwhile, his team composed this lovely picture and presented the book, here: Presenting A Favorite Son
"Our team has already fallen in love with your work "A Favorite Son" It's an amazing story. We want to feature "A Favorite Son" on our pages for that matter. Could you send me the material required for this novel?"
I sent him a brief article about the inspiration for the book, which will be posted soon. Meanwhile, his team composed this lovely picture and presented the book, here: Presenting A Favorite Son
September 20, 2013
International Day of Peace: A Child in Time of War
In honor of International Day of Peace--September 21--here is a story of a child whose family family escapes from war:
"There he sits, pressed in between bundles and things that keep rattling around him, on top of a horse-driven wagon. Looking up at his parents he can sense something big, something fearful and unspoken casting a shadow over them; and they bend their heads together over him and his sister. He can see an endless line in front, an endless line in back—horses and wagons, wagons and horses as far as the eye can see—all advancing towards the same gray, unclear horizon, all escaping towards the same destination: Unknown.
The sun rises in front of the wagons, and sets behind them. Towns appear and disappear. Rivers pass by, then forests, brick houses, motels. In Minsk they stop. He finds the three-story hotel quite fascinating at first, especially the curved rail of the staircase, which is meant, no doubt, for sliding down and yelling at the top of your voice. Of course, landing down on your butt, he finds out, is an entirely different matter—and so is the harsh, unforgiving look cast down at him by the hotelkeeper.
They settle down for the night. In the rented room, his mommy blesses the Sabbath candles. Her hands are tightly clasped, her eyes closed. And early the next morning they mount the wagon again, and the journey goes on in the dim light, guided by nothing but an instinct to survive, farther and farther away from home. Squinting at the rising sun, Zeev finds it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. His mind is going numb listening to the wheels as they spin and turn, spin and turn, beating incessantly against the mud.
Cold rain starts coming down at him, sheet after sheet, and streaming in the same direction is the wet mane of the horse. Its head keeps bobbing up and down, up and down in front. When will it end? Where can they go?
Many days pass by—he cannot count them any more—until, one evening, as they travel along the river, a big town comes into view, closer and closer against the smoky blue backdrop of the Ural Mountains.
This, his daddy tells him, is Saratov."
*
My father was born 1912, and the story above is how I imagine the story of the family, escaping their home on the eve of World War I, which started on August 1, 1914 with the German declaration of war on Russia. Always an army town, the fortress of Brisk was now flooded with Russian military personnel, and many private houses were requisitioned to accommodate them. Late in July 1915, with the installation of new hospitals in town, it became clear that the front was fast approaching Brisk De-Lita.
Rumors of evacuation were heard and the Russian army was to fortify the east bank of the Bug River; but when the German army captured Warsaw on August 4, the Fort Commandant gave the civilian population in Brisk three days to evacuate. Imagine the panic amongst the Jews, who owned most of the businesses, when they had to abandon their belongings and flee for their lives.
When the German army marched into Brisk on August 25, it was a town without people, but with a great abundance of merchandise in the stores. And on the eve of Yom Kippur, the 18th of September, they entered Slonim, a neighboring city, and pressed on into Russia. By that time, the family was already far away from the frontline.
A long, dragged out journey had begun.
My ink-on-paper below is my way of illustrating the ugliness of war. Two figures holding whips are standing over a defiant, seated figure, threatening to cause him harm. In reality, all three figures were sketched looking at the same model.
This story above is included in my poetry book, Home, which is a tribute to my father ★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
♫ °˚˚ ✿*‿*) ♡♥ ◦°˚˚
The talented Maria Catalina Egan invited me on a blog hop for International Day of Peace.To follow the Peace In Time Book Blitz and Hop, click HERE
"There he sits, pressed in between bundles and things that keep rattling around him, on top of a horse-driven wagon. Looking up at his parents he can sense something big, something fearful and unspoken casting a shadow over them; and they bend their heads together over him and his sister. He can see an endless line in front, an endless line in back—horses and wagons, wagons and horses as far as the eye can see—all advancing towards the same gray, unclear horizon, all escaping towards the same destination: Unknown.
The sun rises in front of the wagons, and sets behind them. Towns appear and disappear. Rivers pass by, then forests, brick houses, motels. In Minsk they stop. He finds the three-story hotel quite fascinating at first, especially the curved rail of the staircase, which is meant, no doubt, for sliding down and yelling at the top of your voice. Of course, landing down on your butt, he finds out, is an entirely different matter—and so is the harsh, unforgiving look cast down at him by the hotelkeeper.
They settle down for the night. In the rented room, his mommy blesses the Sabbath candles. Her hands are tightly clasped, her eyes closed. And early the next morning they mount the wagon again, and the journey goes on in the dim light, guided by nothing but an instinct to survive, farther and farther away from home. Squinting at the rising sun, Zeev finds it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. His mind is going numb listening to the wheels as they spin and turn, spin and turn, beating incessantly against the mud.
Cold rain starts coming down at him, sheet after sheet, and streaming in the same direction is the wet mane of the horse. Its head keeps bobbing up and down, up and down in front. When will it end? Where can they go?
Many days pass by—he cannot count them any more—until, one evening, as they travel along the river, a big town comes into view, closer and closer against the smoky blue backdrop of the Ural Mountains.
This, his daddy tells him, is Saratov."
*
My father was born 1912, and the story above is how I imagine the story of the family, escaping their home on the eve of World War I, which started on August 1, 1914 with the German declaration of war on Russia. Always an army town, the fortress of Brisk was now flooded with Russian military personnel, and many private houses were requisitioned to accommodate them. Late in July 1915, with the installation of new hospitals in town, it became clear that the front was fast approaching Brisk De-Lita.
Rumors of evacuation were heard and the Russian army was to fortify the east bank of the Bug River; but when the German army captured Warsaw on August 4, the Fort Commandant gave the civilian population in Brisk three days to evacuate. Imagine the panic amongst the Jews, who owned most of the businesses, when they had to abandon their belongings and flee for their lives.
When the German army marched into Brisk on August 25, it was a town without people, but with a great abundance of merchandise in the stores. And on the eve of Yom Kippur, the 18th of September, they entered Slonim, a neighboring city, and pressed on into Russia. By that time, the family was already far away from the frontline.
A long, dragged out journey had begun.
My ink-on-paper below is my way of illustrating the ugliness of war. Two figures holding whips are standing over a defiant, seated figure, threatening to cause him harm. In reality, all three figures were sketched looking at the same model.
This story above is included in my poetry book, Home, which is a tribute to my father ★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
♫ °˚˚ ✿*‿*) ♡♥ ◦°˚˚
The talented Maria Catalina Egan invited me on a blog hop for International Day of Peace.To follow the Peace In Time Book Blitz and Hop, click HERE
September 18, 2013
"show us their flaws, their hopes and dreams"
DebraWILSON, NC, United States09-12-13OverallPerformanceStory
What did you like best about this story?Everything. The writing, the narration... it was all brilliant.
What about David Kudler’s performance did you like?I couldn’t imagine anyone, anyone at all, dramatizing the story as brilliantly as
David Kudler!
Was this a book you wanted to listen to all in one sitting?I believe so.
Any additional comments?I’d encourage Uvi to write more such biblical accounts, convince us further just how human these characters are, show us their flaws, their hopes and dreams, take us deep into their psyches and allow us to know them more intimately, as she has here. More. Give us more!
"A Shining Light!"Would you consider the audio edition of A Favorite Son to be better than the print version?I don't know, I haven't read the print version.
What did you like best about this story?Everything. The writing, the narration... it was all brilliant.
What about David Kudler’s performance did you like?I couldn’t imagine anyone, anyone at all, dramatizing the story as brilliantly as
David Kudler!
Was this a book you wanted to listen to all in one sitting?I believe so.
Any additional comments?I’d encourage Uvi to write more such biblical accounts, convince us further just how human these characters are, show us their flaws, their hopes and dreams, take us deep into their psyches and allow us to know them more intimately, as she has here. More. Give us more!
September 17, 2013
An impeccable work!
Author Dr. Glen Hepker has written A Glimpse of Heaven: The Philosophy of True Health, and he has doctorate degrees in psychology and health/wellness arts. I am deeply honored that he posted this review for Apart From Love:
5.0 out of 5 stars An impeccable work!, September 17, 2013By Dr. Glen Hepker "Dr. Glen Hepker" (Mason City, Iowa USA) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
This review is from: Apart From Love (Paperback)It is truly an honor to write this review for this impeccable work by Uvi Poznansky.
In her media comments, Uvi eloquently relates that she 'paints with a pen and writes with a paintbrush.' I believe it is important to know that this is in no way an exaggeration - she truly is an artist/writer of the highest caliber, and Apart from Love is splendidly consistent with this level of artistry.
Please know I do not say this lightly - with this book, Uvi has offered us a work which is impeccably written, quintessentially resplendent, and with a powerful, deeply moving message...so much so that I (humbly and respectfully) believe it is important to say that she has truly made the world a better place through her splendid effort. Through the troubled characters in her book, Uvi weaves a so quite spellbinding study into the dynamics of life...and does so in a wonderful fashion which prompts a deep and abiding empathy and hope within the heart of the reader. Once one begins reading, it really truly IS difficult to put down. - Dr. Glen Hepker (author of "A Glimpse of Heaven: The Philosophy of True Health)
5.0 out of 5 stars An impeccable work!, September 17, 2013By Dr. Glen Hepker "Dr. Glen Hepker" (Mason City, Iowa USA) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
This review is from: Apart From Love (Paperback)It is truly an honor to write this review for this impeccable work by Uvi Poznansky.In her media comments, Uvi eloquently relates that she 'paints with a pen and writes with a paintbrush.' I believe it is important to know that this is in no way an exaggeration - she truly is an artist/writer of the highest caliber, and Apart from Love is splendidly consistent with this level of artistry.
Please know I do not say this lightly - with this book, Uvi has offered us a work which is impeccably written, quintessentially resplendent, and with a powerful, deeply moving message...so much so that I (humbly and respectfully) believe it is important to say that she has truly made the world a better place through her splendid effort. Through the troubled characters in her book, Uvi weaves a so quite spellbinding study into the dynamics of life...and does so in a wonderful fashion which prompts a deep and abiding empathy and hope within the heart of the reader. Once one begins reading, it really truly IS difficult to put down. - Dr. Glen Hepker (author of "A Glimpse of Heaven: The Philosophy of True Health)
September 13, 2013
Truly wonderful!
A great review for Apart From Love! Thank you Bill Nelson!
5.0 out of 5 stars Truly wonderful!, September 13, 2013By Bill Nelson - See all my reviewsAmazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: Apart From Love (Kindle Edition)
I didn't need to read the author's bio to know she was a poet. The writing is lyrical, eloquent and yes, poetic. And, I could have guessed Poznansky is also an artist, as each scene is painted with lovely sentences and paragraphs that seem to be created out of a vision delivered by a muse. Apart From Love, by Uvi Poznansky is an emotional story told with care. It deals with love and secrets (and all that they entail) and finally, a quest for understanding. We hear this story from Ben, "Here is my latest revelation: I have been in hiding for so long that at this point, by some strange twist, my mind starts rebelling against me. I know it, because - in spite of my efforts to disguise myself, to alter my looks and behavior - I find myself wishing to be found out." And from Anita, "I open the bedroom window, and feel warm spring air coming in, blowing gently into my face, which feels like a promise." But I might have enjoyed the cleverly named Mr. Bliss the most. Apart From Love is a beautiful thing to read. Highly recommended.
5.0 out of 5 stars Truly wonderful!, September 13, 2013By Bill Nelson - See all my reviewsAmazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: Apart From Love (Kindle Edition)
I didn't need to read the author's bio to know she was a poet. The writing is lyrical, eloquent and yes, poetic. And, I could have guessed Poznansky is also an artist, as each scene is painted with lovely sentences and paragraphs that seem to be created out of a vision delivered by a muse. Apart From Love, by Uvi Poznansky is an emotional story told with care. It deals with love and secrets (and all that they entail) and finally, a quest for understanding. We hear this story from Ben, "Here is my latest revelation: I have been in hiding for so long that at this point, by some strange twist, my mind starts rebelling against me. I know it, because - in spite of my efforts to disguise myself, to alter my looks and behavior - I find myself wishing to be found out." And from Anita, "I open the bedroom window, and feel warm spring air coming in, blowing gently into my face, which feels like a promise." But I might have enjoyed the cleverly named Mr. Bliss the most. Apart From Love is a beautiful thing to read. Highly recommended.
September 12, 2013
A Shining Light!
Wow, what an amazing review for A Favorite Son!
5.0 out of 5 stars A Shining Light!, September 11, 2013By debra (WILSON, NC, United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
This review is from: A Favorite Son (Paperback)In A Favorite Son, Uvi Poznansky presents in her brilliant lyrical style the account of Jacob and Esau, Rebecca and Isaac, adding flesh to the bones of an ancient story and breathing new life into the characters you thought you knew. Anyone who knows this biblical story will recognize Poznansky's extraordinary imagination as she fluidly spins desert yarns, weaving spellbinding moments, creating dramatic images, and engaging every sense.
That lentil stew...to die for! So "scrumptious, so lipsmacking, finger-licking, melt-in-your-mouth good!" that you can't help but empathize with poor Esau. Well, almost. If he weren't so gruff and primitive and impatient - "Give me. Give me now!" - compared to his more sophisticated brother, the mama's boy...
And Rebecca, stuck out in the middle of nowhere in her silk garments and snake skin heels and jasmine perfume, is to the wasteland what Lisa Douglas was to Green Acres: an unhappy camper. Thus her goatskin scheme, and "the meat becomes a love offering... and the old man will bless his favorite, the one he trusts."
Exiled from the circle of warmth he'd always known, Yankle is forced to listen, really listen, to the desert, and feel the void, the silence of God. In this poignant scene he sees the vision for which he is celebrated far and wide - an unforgettable moment.
I'd encourage Uvi to write more such biblical accounts, convince us further just how human these characters are, show us their flaws, their hopes and dreams, take us deep into their psyches and allow us to know them more intimately, as she has here. More. Give us more!
5.0 out of 5 stars A Shining Light!, September 11, 2013By debra (WILSON, NC, United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
This review is from: A Favorite Son (Paperback)In A Favorite Son, Uvi Poznansky presents in her brilliant lyrical style the account of Jacob and Esau, Rebecca and Isaac, adding flesh to the bones of an ancient story and breathing new life into the characters you thought you knew. Anyone who knows this biblical story will recognize Poznansky's extraordinary imagination as she fluidly spins desert yarns, weaving spellbinding moments, creating dramatic images, and engaging every sense.That lentil stew...to die for! So "scrumptious, so lipsmacking, finger-licking, melt-in-your-mouth good!" that you can't help but empathize with poor Esau. Well, almost. If he weren't so gruff and primitive and impatient - "Give me. Give me now!" - compared to his more sophisticated brother, the mama's boy...
And Rebecca, stuck out in the middle of nowhere in her silk garments and snake skin heels and jasmine perfume, is to the wasteland what Lisa Douglas was to Green Acres: an unhappy camper. Thus her goatskin scheme, and "the meat becomes a love offering... and the old man will bless his favorite, the one he trusts."
Exiled from the circle of warmth he'd always known, Yankle is forced to listen, really listen, to the desert, and feel the void, the silence of God. In this poignant scene he sees the vision for which he is celebrated far and wide - an unforgettable moment.
I'd encourage Uvi to write more such biblical accounts, convince us further just how human these characters are, show us their flaws, their hopes and dreams, take us deep into their psyches and allow us to know them more intimately, as she has here. More. Give us more!
September 11, 2013
Beautiful and Haunting
James DiBenedetto, the author of Dream Student (and other books in this series) currently lives in Arlington, Virginia with his beautiful wife and their cat (who has thoroughly trained them both). I am honored that he posted this review for the audiobook edition of A Favorite Son:
5.0 out of 5 sta Beautiful and Haunting, September 11, 2013
By James Dibenedetto "starkllr"Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: A Favorite Son (Kindle Edition)
(note: this review is of the audiobook edition of "A Favorite Son" narrated by David Kudler)
Uvi Poznansky's "A Favorite Son" is a modern-day retelling of the story of Jacob and Esau, one brother tricking the other out of his birthright. But it's also so much more than that.
The author's prose is simply beautiful; she paints intricate and emotionally resonant pictures with her words, drawing us into the Biblical/modern world that she's created. We see everything from the perspective of Yankel, who seeks to claim the position of firstborn and favorite son from his twin, Esav - and who learns the true cost of his desires.
I can't praise the writing enough; the author has an incredible voice and a sharply observant eye (it's no surprise that she's a visual artist as well).
As for the audiobook aspects, the narrator, David Kudler, did a wonderful job. His reading of the story was perfectly done; he captures the voices of all the characters, making them not only distinct but memorable. His delivery perfectly complements the author's tone, making the audiobook a real treat.
I highly, highly recommend this book.
5.0 out of 5 sta Beautiful and Haunting, September 11, 2013
By James Dibenedetto "starkllr"Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: A Favorite Son (Kindle Edition)
(note: this review is of the audiobook edition of "A Favorite Son" narrated by David Kudler)Uvi Poznansky's "A Favorite Son" is a modern-day retelling of the story of Jacob and Esau, one brother tricking the other out of his birthright. But it's also so much more than that.
The author's prose is simply beautiful; she paints intricate and emotionally resonant pictures with her words, drawing us into the Biblical/modern world that she's created. We see everything from the perspective of Yankel, who seeks to claim the position of firstborn and favorite son from his twin, Esav - and who learns the true cost of his desires.
I can't praise the writing enough; the author has an incredible voice and a sharply observant eye (it's no surprise that she's a visual artist as well).
As for the audiobook aspects, the narrator, David Kudler, did a wonderful job. His reading of the story was perfectly done; he captures the voices of all the characters, making them not only distinct but memorable. His delivery perfectly complements the author's tone, making the audiobook a real treat.
I highly, highly recommend this book.
September 10, 2013
A Ballad with a Flair
Wow, what a lovely, spot on review for my poetry book, Home:
5.0 out of 5 stars A Ballad with a Flair, September 10, 2013By Warrior Princess (Karmoy, Norway) - See all my reviewsAmazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)I was penetrated by a pouring rain
And for a moment, somehow, I felt alive again
Sensing me, the worms began to rave
I plucked a wildflower from my grave.
These four lines written by Zeev Kachel and translated by his daughter Uvi Poznansky resonated with me like no other poetry in English ever had. They seemed to have reached something deep in my soul. I was surprised and enchanted and kept reading, enjoying every line of this emotional collection and wondering what it was that kept drawing me in. Eventually, after reading through Uvi's blog, I figured out what that mysterious soul connection was: when Uvi was little, her father used to read to her the poetry of Pushkin, a beloved Russian poet and one of my favorite writers of all time, in Russian. She didn't understand the words until he translated them for her, but the rhythm, the sound, and the soul of his poetry must have reached Uvi through the linguistic barrier. Quite amazing. But let me share a few of my favorite lines from "Home."
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?
These lines, written by Uvi, appeal to me because of the profound meaning behind their apparent simplicity. As life moves forward and we get busy with everyday activities, we tend not to notice the passage of time, only to stop one day and suddenly realize how much life has changed around us and how much we ourselves have changed.
Another emotion that I was drawn to is that of life-affirming defiance no matter what life's circumstances are. Just take a look at this stanza (also by Uvi):
Sing out a ballad of passion and hate
Sing it out as you drown, and ignore that date
Someone may notice, may listen out there
So quicken the pounding, sing out with a flair
My interpretation of this idea of "singing a ballad" is that music and song are some of the purest, most ancient, and most raw ways to express emotions "with a flair."
As I read further and got to the section of the book that contains poetry written by Uvi's father, Zeev Kachel (and translated by Uvi), I could see the similarities in their spirit. In the two lines below, the idea that life is not nearly as sweet and innocent as we often expect, is expressed eloquently and concisely:
Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,
When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?
And more life-affirming defiance in these next lines:
In the distance, you seem to spot a shelter
But all I see is an endless universe
Come on, Troika! Snow sparkles on your lashes
Let's charge to the horizon, let us charge our course!
What I see here is the spirit of independence, the idea of finding your own way, of moving forward fearlessly with no thought of resting, stopping, hiding, or seeking refuge from adversity - strong emotions eloquently expressed. The feelings behind these poems reminded me of the poetry of Anna Akhmatova, a famous Russian modernist poet who lived through and wrote about Stalinist terror.
This poetry collection by Uvi and her father shines with the same spirit of defiance in the face of a great loss, combines lyrical poetry with a strong voice, and presents rhymes that reverberate with the rhythm of our hearts and our lives. Highly recommended.
5.0 out of 5 stars A Ballad with a Flair, September 10, 2013By Warrior Princess (Karmoy, Norway) - See all my reviewsAmazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)I was penetrated by a pouring rainAnd for a moment, somehow, I felt alive again
Sensing me, the worms began to rave
I plucked a wildflower from my grave.
These four lines written by Zeev Kachel and translated by his daughter Uvi Poznansky resonated with me like no other poetry in English ever had. They seemed to have reached something deep in my soul. I was surprised and enchanted and kept reading, enjoying every line of this emotional collection and wondering what it was that kept drawing me in. Eventually, after reading through Uvi's blog, I figured out what that mysterious soul connection was: when Uvi was little, her father used to read to her the poetry of Pushkin, a beloved Russian poet and one of my favorite writers of all time, in Russian. She didn't understand the words until he translated them for her, but the rhythm, the sound, and the soul of his poetry must have reached Uvi through the linguistic barrier. Quite amazing. But let me share a few of my favorite lines from "Home."
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?
These lines, written by Uvi, appeal to me because of the profound meaning behind their apparent simplicity. As life moves forward and we get busy with everyday activities, we tend not to notice the passage of time, only to stop one day and suddenly realize how much life has changed around us and how much we ourselves have changed.
Another emotion that I was drawn to is that of life-affirming defiance no matter what life's circumstances are. Just take a look at this stanza (also by Uvi):
Sing out a ballad of passion and hate
Sing it out as you drown, and ignore that date
Someone may notice, may listen out there
So quicken the pounding, sing out with a flair
My interpretation of this idea of "singing a ballad" is that music and song are some of the purest, most ancient, and most raw ways to express emotions "with a flair."
As I read further and got to the section of the book that contains poetry written by Uvi's father, Zeev Kachel (and translated by Uvi), I could see the similarities in their spirit. In the two lines below, the idea that life is not nearly as sweet and innocent as we often expect, is expressed eloquently and concisely:
Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,
When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?
And more life-affirming defiance in these next lines:
In the distance, you seem to spot a shelter
But all I see is an endless universe
Come on, Troika! Snow sparkles on your lashes
Let's charge to the horizon, let us charge our course!
What I see here is the spirit of independence, the idea of finding your own way, of moving forward fearlessly with no thought of resting, stopping, hiding, or seeking refuge from adversity - strong emotions eloquently expressed. The feelings behind these poems reminded me of the poetry of Anna Akhmatova, a famous Russian modernist poet who lived through and wrote about Stalinist terror.
This poetry collection by Uvi and her father shines with the same spirit of defiance in the face of a great loss, combines lyrical poetry with a strong voice, and presents rhymes that reverberate with the rhythm of our hearts and our lives. Highly recommended.
Enchanting
Yay! Just discover the first review for the audiobook edition of Twisted (on Audible.com)! Check it out:
OverallPerformanceStory
Who was your favorite character and why?I love the wife of Job in I Am What I Am.
What does Heather Jane Hogan bring to the story that you wouldn’t experience
if you just read the book?Her narration was perfect.
Did you have an extreme reaction to this book? Did it make you laugh or cry?Definitely, I laughed.
Any additional comments?As I mentioned earlier, Twisted is well suited as an audio book with its four artistically
described tales. The recording quality was outstanding.
OverallPerformanceStory
"Enchanting"Would you consider the audio edition of Twisted to be better than the print version?As I love to read, it is difficult to compare, but I have enjoyed every second of hearing it. Twisted is perfect for narration.
Who was your favorite character and why?I love the wife of Job in I Am What I Am.
What does Heather Jane Hogan bring to the story that you wouldn’t experience
if you just read the book?Her narration was perfect.
Did you have an extreme reaction to this book? Did it make you laugh or cry?Definitely, I laughed.
Any additional comments?As I mentioned earlier, Twisted is well suited as an audio book with its four artistically
described tales. The recording quality was outstanding.
September 9, 2013
Home is now on Amazon! Offered at a reduced Price! Take a listen
Reparations Poem by my father (translated by me)
You're asking me to put here in writing, once more,
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
To list in detail, then describe and refine
And bring two witnesses tomorrow to sign?
My father's gold watch--I could just hear the sound
Had three lids that were shining
Reflected in it I could see us, standing around
All faces aglow and rejoicing.
The watch also had a heavy gold chain
Coiled twice over, over his vein
The tips of its hands gave a hint of a spark
Shooting green glow, right into the dark
It ticked, counting years for each girl and boy
Marking seasons, holidays, morning and night
I remember Sabbath candles flickering with joy
Sparkling brightly, like starlight.
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
There was an old synagogue my grandpa had built
Burning scrolls, flying ash, dying spirit
Ancient Torah aflame, letters lifting, all gilt
Thou shall not kill, shall not steal, shall not covet
There was my sister. She was delicate, tender
In her eyes I remember a twinkle
Her name was Batia, my beloved little sister
She grew up--and then--it was simple:
She grew up and married, gave birth to a son
with a blue glint in his eyes, and a dimple
And blond hair, like a pure 'Aryan'--
The murderers, they threw him right into the Nile
There were aunts, there were uncles, boys and girls in our midst
The murderers decreed: they should not exist
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
I demand to return, reopen that door
Find parents and sister, each girl and boy
Back there in that synagogue, with that spirit of yore
Sabbath candles aflame, father's voice filled with joy.
It's not property I ask for, not mere pieces of land--
Hebrew school, friends around, all of us in one band
With hope that inspired to survive, to withstand.
Bring the murderers to trial, that is what I demand.
You will not understand; it's of no great import--
I demand that which had been cut short
Finally! Home (the audiobook edition) is on AmazonAnd it is offered at a reduced price!Take a listen to the voice clip of this poem:★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
You're asking me to put here in writing, once more,
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
To list in detail, then describe and refine
And bring two witnesses tomorrow to sign?
My father's gold watch--I could just hear the sound
Had three lids that were shining
Reflected in it I could see us, standing around
All faces aglow and rejoicing.
The watch also had a heavy gold chain
Coiled twice over, over his vein
The tips of its hands gave a hint of a spark
Shooting green glow, right into the dark
It ticked, counting years for each girl and boy
Marking seasons, holidays, morning and night
I remember Sabbath candles flickering with joy
Sparkling brightly, like starlight.
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
There was an old synagogue my grandpa had built
Burning scrolls, flying ash, dying spirit
Ancient Torah aflame, letters lifting, all gilt
Thou shall not kill, shall not steal, shall not covet
There was my sister. She was delicate, tender
In her eyes I remember a twinkle
Her name was Batia, my beloved little sister
She grew up--and then--it was simple:
She grew up and married, gave birth to a son
with a blue glint in his eyes, and a dimple
And blond hair, like a pure 'Aryan'--
The murderers, they threw him right into the Nile
There were aunts, there were uncles, boys and girls in our midst
The murderers decreed: they should not exist
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
I demand to return, reopen that door
Find parents and sister, each girl and boy
Back there in that synagogue, with that spirit of yore
Sabbath candles aflame, father's voice filled with joy.
It's not property I ask for, not mere pieces of land--
Hebrew school, friends around, all of us in one band
With hope that inspired to survive, to withstand.
Bring the murderers to trial, that is what I demand.
You will not understand; it's of no great import--
I demand that which had been cut short
Finally! Home (the audiobook edition) is on AmazonAnd it is offered at a reduced price!Take a listen to the voice clip of this poem:★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
