Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 267
August 13, 2012
Muse
The lamp swings like a pendulum, pictures sway on their nailsThen slip down the walls, leaving scratched trailsAmidst the quake, the grief, the confusion and scare Slowly ascending is my father's armchair
And beyond all these outlines of what you see thereBeyond the sofa, the nicknacks, the old furnitureThe light that pours in now paints something newIt reveals, it unveils at this moment a clue
The clue to a presence only he could once seeA presence he longed for, because only sheCould call him back home, and envelope him soTouching-not-touching, her hands all aglow
These pages, upon which he'll never scribble a lineAre floating from the shadow, right into the shineOnly she can now read the blanks, she and no otherHe's ascending into the hands of his muse, his mother.
Details from my oil painting, My Father's Armchair.
August 12, 2012
Never Too Old for YA Books?
I am so excited to let you know that my novel, Apart From Love, has been selected on Goodreads for the Book of the Month list, for the group Never too Old for Y.A. Books.
Are you a member of this group? If so, I would be so grateful if you help my book get selected. Please vote for it here: Book of the Month September Indie Author.
This is the Place
This is the place where he put pen to paper... But clung to the wall, the shelves are now bare All that remains of his words is but vapor All you can spot is but a dent in his chair
He used to sit here, here he would stare Years come, years go, an old clock keeping score, He would scribble his notes, crumple them in despair Waiting for his savior—but locking that door
That door sealed him off, away from all danger Except from the depth of the danger within No one could intrude here, except for the stranger Who would carry him off to where his end would begin—
The poet, who’d mourned the loss of his mother Would then, somehow, be reduced to a child He would crouch at the threshold, and call, call, call her Knock, knock, knock at that door; no more stifled, but wild
This is the place where he put pen to paper Till the door opened, creaking on a hinge... Locked in embrace, perhaps at last he can feel her No need to cry now, can't feel that twinge
Detail from my oil painting, My Father's Armchair. You can barely see down at the far depth, but hiding in the shadows is the entrance door to this place, where I grew up and where my father spent the last twenty four years of his life, alone.
He used to sit here, here he would stare Years come, years go, an old clock keeping score, He would scribble his notes, crumple them in despair Waiting for his savior—but locking that door
That door sealed him off, away from all danger Except from the depth of the danger within No one could intrude here, except for the stranger Who would carry him off to where his end would begin—
The poet, who’d mourned the loss of his mother Would then, somehow, be reduced to a child He would crouch at the threshold, and call, call, call her Knock, knock, knock at that door; no more stifled, but wild
This is the place where he put pen to paper Till the door opened, creaking on a hinge... Locked in embrace, perhaps at last he can feel her No need to cry now, can't feel that twinge
Detail from my oil painting, My Father's Armchair. You can barely see down at the far depth, but hiding in the shadows is the entrance door to this place, where I grew up and where my father spent the last twenty four years of his life, alone.
With a Spin
This is the place where he put pen to paper...But clung to the wall, the shelves are now bareAll that remains of his words is but vaporAll you can spot is but a dent in his chair
He used to sit here, here he would stareYears come, years go, the clock keeping score,He would scribble his notes, crumple them in despairWaiting for his savior, but locking that door
That door sealed him off, away from all dangerExcept from the depth of the danger withinNo one could intrude here, except for the strangerThat carried him off to a place, with a spin—
The poet, who had mourned the loss of his motherWas then, somehow, reduced to a childHe would crouch at the threshold, and call, call, call herKnock, knock, knock at that door, no more stifled, but wild
This is the place where he put pen to paper...With a spin the door opened, creaking on a hingeLocked in embrace, perhaps at last he can feel herNo need to cry now, can't feel that twinge
Detail from my oil painting, My Father's Armchair. You can barely see down at the far depth, but hiding in the shadows is the entrance door to this place, where I grew up and where my father spent the last twenty four years of his life, alone.
He used to sit here, here he would stareYears come, years go, the clock keeping score,He would scribble his notes, crumple them in despairWaiting for his savior, but locking that door
That door sealed him off, away from all dangerExcept from the depth of the danger withinNo one could intrude here, except for the strangerThat carried him off to a place, with a spin—
The poet, who had mourned the loss of his motherWas then, somehow, reduced to a childHe would crouch at the threshold, and call, call, call herKnock, knock, knock at that door, no more stifled, but wild
This is the place where he put pen to paper...With a spin the door opened, creaking on a hingeLocked in embrace, perhaps at last he can feel herNo need to cry now, can't feel that twinge
Detail from my oil painting, My Father's Armchair. You can barely see down at the far depth, but hiding in the shadows is the entrance door to this place, where I grew up and where my father spent the last twenty four years of his life, alone.
August 10, 2012
Apart From Love is in Several Cover Contests
Apart From Love, with a cover image based on my painting, is in several cover contests!
It is entry #9 on the cover contest of You Got To Read. To participate in this contest go to http://yougottaread.com and vote between August 21 and August 26. I will post a reminder for you when the time comes.Also, it is in third position (out of 90 books) on Goodreads' Best Illustrated Book Covers. If you are a Goodreads member and you like the cover, please vote for it.
It is entry #9 on the cover contest of You Got To Read. To participate in this contest go to http://yougottaread.com and vote between August 21 and August 26. I will post a reminder for you when the time comes.Also, it is in third position (out of 90 books) on Goodreads' Best Illustrated Book Covers. If you are a Goodreads member and you like the cover, please vote for it.
August 9, 2012
Beyonce and Marilyn Monroe
For a writer just coming out of obscurity, how do you know you're starting to make a dent in the public mind? When you utter a whisper, how do you even know someone is listening? Well, in my case, the answer this: you know it when Beyonce and Marilyn Monroe start following you on Twitter! How cool is that! (And don't even bother hinting that Marilyn is no longer among us--she lives on!)
Look, this is what I find when I follow them back: both of these amazing divas have wise and poignant thoughts, which they express with the brevity necessary for Twitter communication.
Beyonce Knowles
@BeyonceKnowIess FOLLOWS YOU
Beyonce is a singer songwriter record producer actress,dancer choreographer model fashion designer vocals one of the biggest Artist of all time!
Los Angeles, CA
"You can close your eyes to the things you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to the things you don’t want to feel."
"You say you missed me, well I missed me too, because I was never myself whenever I was with you."
"You’re everything I thought you never were and nothing like I thought you could’ve been."
Marilyn Monroe
@MarilynMonroeDC FOLLOWS YOU
Ego & love cannot exist together. They are like light & darkness: when light comes, darkness disappears. | Created by @jeremiah_alric | Owner by @sofiebilancia
Washington, DC · http://www.facebook.com/MarilynMonroeDC
"In life; Good experiences will produce memorable moments and bad experiences will produce lessons."
"Kindness should never be confused with weakness! What someone doesn't do shouldn't ever be confused with what they are capable of doing."
"God and the Devil both have the power to grant your deepest desires; in the end, it’s the price you pay for them that matters."
Look, this is what I find when I follow them back: both of these amazing divas have wise and poignant thoughts, which they express with the brevity necessary for Twitter communication.
Beyonce Knowles
@BeyonceKnowIess FOLLOWS YOU
Beyonce is a singer songwriter record producer actress,dancer choreographer model fashion designer vocals one of the biggest Artist of all time!
Los Angeles, CA
"You can close your eyes to the things you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to the things you don’t want to feel."
"You say you missed me, well I missed me too, because I was never myself whenever I was with you."
"You’re everything I thought you never were and nothing like I thought you could’ve been."
Marilyn Monroe
@MarilynMonroeDC FOLLOWS YOU
Ego & love cannot exist together. They are like light & darkness: when light comes, darkness disappears. | Created by @jeremiah_alric | Owner by @sofiebilancia
Washington, DC · http://www.facebook.com/MarilynMonroeDC
"In life; Good experiences will produce memorable moments and bad experiences will produce lessons."
"Kindness should never be confused with weakness! What someone doesn't do shouldn't ever be confused with what they are capable of doing."
"God and the Devil both have the power to grant your deepest desires; in the end, it’s the price you pay for them that matters."
Who Says It Belongs on The New York Times Best Sellers List?
Tom Riddell describes himself as a a fairly easy going kind of guy who takes responsibility for his life and is interested in many things- everything from politics to books, to the super natural- paranormal. Who says that being 50+ can't be fun?He is currently working on a novel. He is also a TV Producer at SCCTV (Washington @ Work), a web site administrator, and a host Blog Talk Radio Show: The Writers' Lounge. I am very honored that he posted this ★★★★★ review on his site:
"The author has taken a very complicated premise, involving three complex characters and interlaced them all into a story that will seep into the hearts and souls of many readers. It is surely destined to become a novel that you will well remember for a long time to come.
The richness of this tale becomes beautifully evident in the way the author delves into every intricate detail of the story. Not overly done, the narrative fits perfectly, pulling you along, tantalizing you to want more..."
Tom concludes the review with these words:
If there are first time novels that truly belong on The New York Times Best Sellers List- this one is it! This read, from beginning to end, remained solidly at the very top of the star rating scale for me. Excellent work!"
To read the entire review, see BOOK REVIEW: APART FROM LOVE- BY UVI POZNANSKY
"The author has taken a very complicated premise, involving three complex characters and interlaced them all into a story that will seep into the hearts and souls of many readers. It is surely destined to become a novel that you will well remember for a long time to come.
The richness of this tale becomes beautifully evident in the way the author delves into every intricate detail of the story. Not overly done, the narrative fits perfectly, pulling you along, tantalizing you to want more..."
Tom concludes the review with these words:
If there are first time novels that truly belong on The New York Times Best Sellers List- this one is it! This read, from beginning to end, remained solidly at the very top of the star rating scale for me. Excellent work!"
To read the entire review, see BOOK REVIEW: APART FROM LOVE- BY UVI POZNANSKY
August 8, 2012
"Amazing"
A new ★★★★★ review for Apart From Love, titled "Amazing" was posted today on Amazon. It was written by Christian Ashley, the author of the book In Daddy's Arms. Here is what she wrote:
"Apart from love" is a truly artistic novel that is difficult to put down. As I had understood it, "Apart From Love" was a collection of journal entries which explained why Anita and Ben were both presented in first person throughout the book. I was raised in West Los Angeles, and recognized well every place discussed in the book as Uvi's descriptions were perfect. The way that the story unfolded and how the ending was presented and explained afterward absolutely amazed me.
~Sherri Christian-Samson
To read this review (among others) click here
"Apart from love" is a truly artistic novel that is difficult to put down. As I had understood it, "Apart From Love" was a collection of journal entries which explained why Anita and Ben were both presented in first person throughout the book. I was raised in West Los Angeles, and recognized well every place discussed in the book as Uvi's descriptions were perfect. The way that the story unfolded and how the ending was presented and explained afterward absolutely amazed me.
~Sherri Christian-Samson
To read this review (among others) click here
August 7, 2012
Blessed (Poem by my Father)
by Zeev KachelTranslated by Uvi Poznansky
I'm blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agonyBlessed for the fear, the pain of it allIn which I was steeped, in this realityAnd granted the chance to endure or to fall
I'm blessed for the hardship, and blessed for the hurtBlessed for the crevices, obstacles and allIn the heart of the storm, my journey I chartTo leap over the inferno, and turn back to recall
I'm blessed to have lived, in honor and courageBlessed I could take a deep plunge, then soarBlessed for the vinegar, and blessed for the honeyBlessed to be counted with the few at the foreThat somehow did reach their big destiny.
My father wrote all his life, but at the age of sixty-five, immediately after retirement, he started to paint. Earlier in his life he had made light of abstract painting, but now found his way to it. This oil painting, which he called Creation of the World, is done with strong, thick brushstrokes and luscious touches of paint.
I'm blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agonyBlessed for the fear, the pain of it allIn which I was steeped, in this realityAnd granted the chance to endure or to fall
I'm blessed for the hardship, and blessed for the hurtBlessed for the crevices, obstacles and allIn the heart of the storm, my journey I chartTo leap over the inferno, and turn back to recall
I'm blessed to have lived, in honor and courageBlessed I could take a deep plunge, then soarBlessed for the vinegar, and blessed for the honeyBlessed to be counted with the few at the foreThat somehow did reach their big destiny.
My father wrote all his life, but at the age of sixty-five, immediately after retirement, he started to paint. Earlier in his life he had made light of abstract painting, but now found his way to it. This oil painting, which he called Creation of the World, is done with strong, thick brushstrokes and luscious touches of paint.
August 5, 2012
What's in a Name?
When writing a story, how do you choose a name for your hero? At times this is an abvious, natural choice; other times you struggle with it, and have doubts about your choice. Recently I came across an article by Thomas A Knight about this subject. He is an author who writes stories set in a fantasy world of his own design. The name of the article is Writer's Den #5 - What's In A Name. This is how it starts:
"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' Or so wrote the great William Shakespeare. But would it really? Name's are important in fiction. It's hard to identify with a character that has a long or difficult to pronounce name, and names that are too common or overused can have the same effect. So how do we come up with the winner?"
"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' Or so wrote the great William Shakespeare. But would it really? Name's are important in fiction. It's hard to identify with a character that has a long or difficult to pronounce name, and names that are too common or overused can have the same effect. So how do we come up with the winner?"
