Uvi’s Comments (group member since Apr 09, 2012)

Uvi’s comments from the The Creative Spark with Uvi Poznansky group.

Here is my conversation at the wonderful Arts and Media radio show Anything Goes, with the great host: Bennet Pomeranz. He asked great questions, some of which readers and listeners had asked him about my work. I was elated to hear that he read my books, and to hear his impressions about them.

Take a listen:
Anything goes! A lovely chat with Bennet

Just finished reading Jaded and here is my review:

The first thing that delighted me about this book is the names of the two protagonists, ‘Reed’ (a tall, slender-leaved plant of the grass family that grows in water or on marshy ground) and ‘Jade’ (a hard, typically green stone used for ornaments.) By choosing these names, the contrast between them is already established. Add the title ‘Jaded’ (‘weary’) to this mix, and you already have a beginning of a feel for the characters.

Prevalent in this story is the mystery of the past. It casts a shadow over the relationship between Reed and Jade. After his mother died Reed felt so lost, until a year later, a new girl moved into the neighborhood. Jade was two years older than him and she had lost both of her parents, which for him, pointed to a way out of loneliness. Her resistance to connect with him, then as now, is explored through her reaction to the murder of her parents, back when she was a child. When the police showed up, she was sitting on the floor in between her two dead parents with their blood all over her.

At present, Jade is not your regular maiden in distress, waiting to be rescued. Instead, she takes the initiative to solve the mystery on her own, without sharing the information about it, nor the risk. “But I don’t want protection. I want to nail these bastards. I want them to pay for what they did to my parents.”

The search is crossing in two opposite directions: Jade is looking for clues, and at the same time the criminals who killed her parents are searching for her old journal, where she may have recorded the names of the killers. “It’s likely got the names of the men who killed my parents. That, with the dates combined, could very well re-open the investigation.”

Punctuating the search for clues are scenes of physical struggles between Reed and the attackers. These scenes are delivered blow by blow, with vivid cinematic rhythm, and vivid glances at the chaos that ensues: “Liquid, glass, and glitter splattered out, mixing with the spray of blood in a collage of color.”

Yet even with the violence, the author preserves a sense of the basic dignity of her characters: “Reed’s hands shook but he couldn’t make himself pull the trigger. Never in his life had he held a real gun before. And he certainly hadn’t ever intended to kill someone with one. Even now, with his and Jade’s life on the line, he couldn’t do it.”

Above all I love the way the author expresses the search for asking forgiveness, starting out with a half-ironic tone, and ending in earnest.
“I’m sorry,” he says to her at the beginning, “that I’ve always let you lead me around by the nose to my own detriment. I’m sorry that I loved you. But that’s all there is—just sorrow and regret. We’ve got nothing more between us.”

Towards the end of the story she changes enough to find the strength to tell him, without irony, “I’m sorry for everything. For obsessing on catching my parents’ killers. For dragging you into this mess. For all the times that I hurt you on purpose. For all the times that I hurt you and didn’t even know it. For all the things that I can’t even put into words. I’m just sorry.”

Five stars.

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Just finished reading Lady Blues and here is my review:

Oh what a lovely, wholesome joy it is to take in the sunshine alongside music professor Gus LeGarde! All worries fall away, just being with him as he enjoys the simple little pleasures life has to offer. Food: “For almost a year, I’d been devouring Milka chocolate bars… We’d bought enough for an army, and I considered it my personal challenge to devour one ever night.” Dogs: “Max thumped his tail on the grass and nuzzled me with a wet nose… I stroked his ears and rested back on my elbows on the warm grass.” Family: “There was something about those sweet little faces, their soft hands and kisses, their incessant noise and joyful shrieks that made me feel whole and alive.”

Yet, at a moments notice Gus snaps out of his relaxed mood, and the mood alternates from soothing to suspenseful when an emergency presents itself. Here is is, leaping to rescue Lily, a Korean woman trapped in a burning house: “The black cloud rolled with a vengeance now, completely clouding my vision. I struggled to breathe and reached for the stairway rail, trying to balance.” Or on another call to action, “With vengeance and absolutely no remote, I swung again, this time at the back of his head. I put all I had into the blow.” These changes in mood drive us through the twists and turns of the story, trusting all the while that all will end on an upswing note, and we will find ourselves with Gus at a cozy place in the end.

Note the respect and warm-hearted affection with which Gus describes Kip Sterling, the elderly Alzheimer’s stricken man known as ‘the music man’, whom he meets in a local nursing home : “Deep character lines etched his face, offset by dark blue eyes that drifted to days forgotten.” Looking at Kip, Gus is touched by the mystery of a mind disappearing. Could Bella, Kip’s first and only love, still be alive? Would he, Gus, find her and bring her before Kip in time? Will the old man have the opportunity to say to her, “My Bella. Oh my God. My Bella,” before the memory of love fades completely away?

Five stars.

My announcement of the day:
The beautiful print edition of A Peek at Bathsheba has come out!

Get it now:
✿ Print http://BookShow.me//0984993274
✿ ebook http://BookShow.me/B00LEPPDV6

Just finished reading Ty the Bull and here is my review:

This is a story told in the voice of an endearingly sensitive, lonely eleven year old boy. We find him at a particularly painful period of his life, immediately after his parent’s divorce, when things in school turn ugly for him. Named after a dinosaur, one that “could take out an enemy with one swipe of his paw, or claw, of hoof, or whatever its feet were called,” Ty feels as if he falls short of expectations. “To be honest with you, I don’t feel like a gigantic and ferocious beast of any kind.”

Gabe, the ring leader of the bullies at school, taunts Ty, calling him, “girlie-boy” till Ty sees no other choice but to tackle him to the ground, an act that—taken out of context—ends up convincing the teachers that he is the bully, instead of a victim. “It made me miss my old life even more than ever…back when thongs were carefree.” Ty feels the sting of betrayal from his so-called friends: “Even guys who act like my friends will turn on me when I least expect it. It makes me feel like keeping to myself.”

The worst part is feeling trapped in the situation. “It just gets me down, and I feel like crawling into a hole, or running away, but where am I going to go?” In his family there is no one with whom he can confide, because ever since the divorce, his mom has no time for him. “Mom would be at work… I’m so sick of empty rooms and no one to talk to.”

New friend, Peacock, sees right through his problem. “Had my share of fights and that didn’t work, walked away and ignored them, and that didn’t work.” On Peacock’s advice, Ty decides to try out new responses, to achieve the element of surprise. “In every situation, if I felt like running, I would stand still. If I felt like crying, I would laugh.” He decides to take the initiative in the conversation between him and the bully. Gabe dares him to hang from the branch face down, demonstrating the move—only to slip from it. It is then that Ty saves him from fallingl to the ground. This act finally leads to Ty offering his gratitude for having been saved.

In addition to the authentic voice, written in simple yet heart-wrenching honesty, the book includes lovely pencil illustrations that completes the book, making it feel like a child’s diary.

Five stars.

Against the backdrop of wars, raging within the land and without, David is growing into the mantle of leadership. Between his anointment as a tribal king and his anointment as the king of all of Israel, he uses wisdom, cunning, and his own understanding of the forces of history, aiming for high ideals: stopping the bloodshed, uniting the nation, and bringing about healing and peace.

But then, having reached his peak, David falters. He makes a serious error that threatens to undo his political success, and cost him not only the adoration of his people—but also the sense of being sustained by a divine power. That error is the most torrid tale of passion ever told: his deliciously forbidden love for Bathsheba, followed by his attempt to cover up the ensuing scandal by sending her husband—who serves him faithfully in his army—to his death.

This is volume II of the trilogy The David Chronicles, told candidly by the king himself. David uses modern language, indicating that this is no fairytale. Rather, it is a story that is happening here and now. Listen to his voice as he undergoes a profound change, realizing the magnitude of his sin, and the curse looming over his entire future.

Jut finished reading Sex and Crime: Oliver's Strange Journey and this is my review:

This book is an invitation to take a peek into some of the dark passages of his past, which the author, Oliver Markus, chose to illuminate for us, and for himself as well. In place of summarizing the book, which many reviewers have already done, I will focus on the writing.

The language is direct. Markus avoids dressing up the events with literary descriptions, opting instead for a frank, conversational tone, “I felt so bad for her, I agreed to marry her… And how f- awesome is it that some little computer geek from Germany is marrying this hot woman in New York?”

He describes events in a decidedly measured manner even when they turn out to be incredibly dramatic. “My dad was drunk out of his mind, and gave this big speech about how he was going to make my mother watch while he kills me, then he was going to kill her, and then he was going to kill himself.” And later, “A few days later he hung himself from the big cherry tree in my grandmother's backyard. It was the best thing he ever did for me.”

From time to time, the author digresses from the action—right in the midst of an unfolding sex scene or a street brawl. He leaves himself ‘suspended in animation’ if you will, and goes into a series of flashbacks or discussing PSTD, not for a paragraph or two but for several pages. This would be strange in any other literary piece, but as you know, the difference between life and fiction is that fiction has to make sense. Not so in a piece that is a reflection of life. I found it to be part of his essence, and therefore, utterly important to the autobiography. “But all my life I've had a hard time being emotionally grounded in the moment. I have always been emotionally detached, removed from the situation. I've always felt like an observer rather than a participant.”

From time to time he addresses you directly, commenting on his own story as if responding to a glance or a word of disbelief from you. “And let's be honest… the first chapter about prostitution caught your interest, and now you're trudging through this chapter, hoping I'll get back to the juicy stuff soon... But I have to explain some stuff about my background first, or the rest of the book won't make any sense.”

A note about the cover: you are faced with half-a-face of a pretty girl, whose makeup runs down her cheek, leaving a trail, which has dried by now, of a tear. This image is quite striking. Together with the title, Sex and Crime, it is designed to be evocative. Yet, as much as I appreciate the thought that went into designing this cover, I feel that the image should have been Oliver Markus’, because it is his portrait—the portion he is letting us see—that fascinates us as we read his story.

Five stars.

Just finished reading Saving Grace Devine and here is my review:

Open the cover. Step into the mind of a Alex. You will find yourself in her skin, waking to moment when she is just about to commit suicide. “My left foot trembles as it hovers over the edge.” In the end, having gone full circle, you will find yourself at a moment before the beginning, stepping over to reach the edge, praying for mercy. I love it when the end coils over onto the beginning. What a gipping moment it is, when you straddle a decision, hoping—perhaps in vain—to find a safe place for a foothold, or failing that, to find grace.
In between these two moments, which happen in the present, Alex reflects on the past, on the events that brought her to this state: the onset of insanity and the unravelling of her 10-years marriage to Greg, who tries as best he can to help her get well. “He had come come one day to find the dining room curtains in shreds because I couldn’t get them off their hooks to wash them.”
It all starts with a visit to a museum.“My footsteps echoed as I trod the creaky polished floorboards in the empty room. I couldn’t overcome the feeling of being watched.” By some strange time slip, the haunting figures in the portraits come alive, at least in Alex’s mind: Jonas Devine (the museum benefactor), his bride Margarita, who died at childbirth of their second son, his second wife Agnes, who has a daughter named Grace. It is her portrait, found rolled up in a drawer, that stirs the heart. “Her hands floated next to her and her light brown hair flowed loose around her.” It is the mystery of her drowning that stirs Alex into further exploration. What price would she have to pay for daring to change her fate?
Margarita becomes a shadow, a haunting hiss. “Kill him…” She wants Alex to kill someone—anyone—because then Alex’s soul would be as damned as hers. Before long Alex becomes a danger to herself, and to others. “In saving Grace Devine, I had lost myself.”
If you like taunting yourself with fear of what is coming up behind you, this book is perfect for you.
Five stars.

Cover reveal: A Peek at Bathsheba

My book, A Peek at Bathsheba, includes a sighting of Bathsheba at mouth of a cave, located just above the Kidron valley, near Jerusalem. The setting immediately brought to my mind A Woman Bathing in a Stream, painted in 1655 by Rembrandt, immediately after he painted Bathsheba at Her Bath.

During the history of art, most artists portrayed Bathsheba as a fleshy, mature woman. They often placed her in a lush outdoor scenery, such as a royal garden, with flowing water or with a fountain. Spotting a forbidden woman in a setting reminiscent of the Garden of Eden is a tempting fantasy, and quite a departure from the biblical account, that states she was bathing on her roof. Artists go after their own heart—and so, indeed, do writers—to suggest the emotional essence of the story.

Rembrandt places his figure not in a garden, but in a cave with a pool of water, which is at once an outdoor and indoor scene (and in Bathsheba at Her Bath he presented her in an indoor scene, in her bedroom.)

Unlike paintings done by other artists—depicting Susanna and the Elders, Bathsheba, or the goddess Diana, who were all spied upon while bathing—this painting does not show the peeping man. Instead, Rembrandt supplants him by you, the viewer. Also, the woman in his painting is in control of the situation, rather than a victim of it.

Rembrandt worked mostly with a grays, browns, and blacks, setting objects back by plunging them into this dark tone, and bringing them forward by shining a bright light directly upon them, creating stark contrasts. The resulting image is sculptural in nature, and strikingly dramatic.

Clearly, the composition of my watercolor painting is inspired by his admirable art, shares a similar spirit of intimacy, and maintains a loving respect for the model. Here is my approach, my homage to it, which illuminates the new vision I use for the story.

I strive to maintain a sculptural feel for Bathsheba, but take the freedom to play with a splash of colors, so as to draw contrasts between cool and warm hues. I create a variety of textures, using a loose, spontaneous brushstroke. This I achieve by applying puddles of pigments over Yupo paper, which (unlike traditional watercolor paper) is non-absorbent. I let these puddles drip in some places, and in other places, I lift and shape them into careful designs, using various tools.

The font selected for the title depicts a regal, dynamically slanted, and rather grandiose handwriting style, just the way I imagine David’s penmanship in his private diary.
By contrast to the title, the font selected for the name of the trilogy—The David Chronicles—is a more formal one, and it is presented in capitals. This adheres to the font scheme for the cover of the first volume, Rise to Power.

At the top, the letters are bathed in golden light, which fades gradually towards the bottom. Down there, they are soaked in a blood red color, as befits this dramatic affair of love and war.

A Peek at Bathsheba is one volume out of a trilogy. Therefore I am designing the spines of all three covers to have a matching feel in terms of the image and font scheme. So when you place them on your bookshelf, one spine next to the other, all three volumes will visually belong together. Together they will grace the look of your library.


Detail from the Cover



A Peek at Bathsheba is now available in ebook format.

At that second it dawns on me—I understand, in its entirety, my mother’s plan; which nearly brings me to split my sides and roar with laughter—but at a single hint from her, I hold it in. No need for other people to hear us.
Intoxicated, I marvel in her plan; and in my mind I shout: My God, this is so clever! So deceitful!

To read more, and listen to the beautiful narration by David Kudler, click here:
I marvel in her plan. It is so clever! So deceitful!

Here is my interview with author and poet Euponos Aus on her blog, Tassels of Intertwined Emotions:


MY CONVERSATION WITH UVI POZNANSKY

Just finished reading Isaac's Gun and here is my review:

Isaac’s gun is a story (dated 2006) wrapping around a second story (dated 1943), which wraps around a third story (dated 1877.) This creates a unique structure, a telescope that allows you to refocus your attention between past and present, and see how the lives of the characters, and our lives as well, are touched by earlier lives, across the boundaries of time, culture, and circumstance. The author, Dan Strawn, writes the outermost story in third-person narrative, and the inner story in first-person narrative, which does wonders to pull us back into history, into the core.

Reading through many of the journals, bequeathed to her by her grandfather, Megan Holcomb becomes immersed in the view of three generations of Americana portrayed in them. These journals open in San Diego, California in 1943, where Martin Holcomb finds himself in a Naval hospital, trying to head from his wounds, both physical mental. “My next to last waking thought has something to do with the peace I find in wondering about the inconsequential events of ordinary people living a life. My last thought: can I get through one more night without nightmares?”

Martin falls in love with Sherrill O'Toole, and learns of Isaac Ramsey, her grandfather, and his journals, dated back to 1877. “I would love to get my hands on those journals,” he says, “but don’t dare ask. Who knows, maybe later. For now, I’ve got a ton of notes which need to be read and refined.” These older journals, in turn, conjure up war memories that will show Martin a way to heal. “The wayward afternoon breeze lifts the edge of my half-filled journal notes. I look at the straight lines on a blank page. What will I write of my tomorrows? My yesterdays?”

In the end, the act of refocusing is bequeathed to you, the reader, as the main character is left knowing that more reflection is yet to be done, and more mysteries yet to unravel. “When Megan’s mom came bouncing into the house with an armload of groceries, Megan put the box of journals and the case into the bedroom and forced herself away from the urge to lie on the bed and finish reading.”

I love this yet unresolved, open-ended end. It allows the story to linger in your mind, inviting you to write its future possibilities.
Five stars.

Marie wrote: "Thanks for the warm welcome Uvi. I must check out the writing thread!"

Totally my pleasure!

Welcome Marie! Indeed, spoken like a poet! I too can't imagine a world without words, they give us such depth and beauty.

So glad to see you here, and to hear your voice, and to witness how you deal with your own difficulty. I think it's amazing.

Please don't hesitate to share your own poetry, either here or on the 'writing' thread.

Just finished reading Deadly Pleasures and here is my review:

In Deathly Pleasures, you are invited to explore a culture where the darker a pleasure is—the more delight is to be found in it. Witness the collusion between the seemingly stable world of wealthy yacht club members, and the gritty, risqué world of BDSM clubs. Of the many characters, who is the Bondage Murderer, and which of the two worlds does he—or she—come from?
The author, Mary Firmin, aims for a fun, action filled delivery that will leave you at the edge of your seat. Her female protagonist, Megan Riley (a struggling real estate agent) is a woman who learns to find her strength. She takes risks, which makes her a dynamic character, and no less intense than the male protagonist, Matt Donovan (an LAPD detective.) Many of the reviews have given a plot summary already. Instead, I will focus on the writing.

The story is crafted, for the most part, in brisk utterances, short paragraphs. Leading up to the cinematic climax, Megan has to compose herself, and figure out her surroundings. “Then it all came back. She was on the Grants’ yacht. She was in the hallway. She’s been attacked from behind. She was hit on the head, over and over… Whoever it was had done a real number.”

The author punctuates her story, ever so cleverly, with clues, some of which are red herring, for the fun of keeping you guessing until the last twist of the plot. When she does offer descriptions, they are crafted with economy, and reflect her many days of sailing up and down the California Coastline: “Sliver-lined clouds hovered above the island, hiding the moon. From where she stood, Megan could see the anchor lights of the boats repeat themselves in the blackness of the water and glimmer like reflected stars.”

It is no accident that a reference to Amazon Women is introduced into the story, when Megan looks at a portrait: “A beautiful fair-haired woman stalked barefoot alongside a river. Hooked over her left shoulder was a rawhide quiver of arrows and, trailing behind her, a tired looking male, his hands secured by brown leather thongs… The woman’s right breast was gone, replaced by a vicious scar.” In the Iliad, Amazon women were referred to as “those who fight like men.” They removed their left breast, perhaps so they could better steady their bows and draw their arrows straight across their chest. Here, the bodies of the murder victims have been mutilated in a similar way. Perhaps this mutilation, which is the mark of being a victim, can also be a mark of finding your courage. In the most profound sense, Megan is a contemporary Amazon woman.

Five Stars.

Just finished reading Hexe and here is my review:

Written in the voice of a young girl, Frigg, growing up in a German village during WWII, HEXE is an intimate, heartfelt account of her life. In this story, fiction becomes so true, so rich with historical facts, and so imbued with fairytale traditions, that it ushers us into the time and place it describes, making them a reality.

Originating from German, the title packs a lot of meaning into its short utterance: HEXE is the act of doing witchcraft, of working miracles. Fittingly, this is exactly what this story encapsulates: the passing of mystical traditions from the grandmother, Lina, to her young granddaughter, Frigg. “Once, when I asked her why she got up so early, she said, ‘The veil is the thinnest during the Witching Hour, the time of magic, when souls find souls. The herbs you cut during the witching hours are the most powerful. They carry the magical mist.’”

This unique relationship is set against the background of turmoil, witnessed as the girl watches a mob dragging her mother in the street. It is heart-wrenching to read, “A wild crowd was jeering at something being dragged along on a rope. It took me a moment to understand what was going on… The world started to spin. A mist descended in front of my eyes and my heart seemed to stop.” It is awe-inspiring to realize the courage of the grandmother to stand up against the brutes, and save the victim from their hands.

Later, looking at her grandmother, the girl says to herself, with an endearing touch of honesty, ‘She is getting really old now. I wish she would stop telling me these tales.’ Which is when she learns a lesson from her grandmother: ‘Superstitious minds are troubled minds. Superstitions are born out of fear of the unknown, the unexplained threatening the routine of life.’

Aside from the writing, I want to mention the beautiful presentation of the print edition. In the tradition of old manuscripts, the first letter of each chapter is presented in a font that seems to come out of an old witchcraft book. I simply love this attention to detail, offering us the beauty of an old glyph as a gateway to the a world of magic.

Five stars.

CK Webb is an author of thriller books, a book reviewer, and the host of WebbWeaver Books, Where our favorite authors read their books for you and clothing is 100% optional!. What a joy it is to come on her radio show, to talk about my dark fantasy book, Twisted, and my other books!

Come to a place where favorite authors read their books for you and clothing is 100% optional

Just finished reading The Sacred Band and here is my review:

The Sacred Band is an epic story, based on Plato's Sacred Squadron, which consisted of pairs of male lovers that formed the elite force of the Theban army in the 4th century BC. The authors open it without wasting any time to hint that some of the characters, like Tempus (AKA the Riddler) have multiple names. You are invited right into their midst. It is by association, and by living next to them as if you were part of the band, that these names start to connect for you—even without the benefit of an official introduction.

You will find yourself immersed in a mythological world, among mortal and immortal beings, whose deeds and reflections carry poetic, symbolic meanings. “The Fates swoop in, looking Tempus in the eye. And he can see them, this man of many years, who has beside him a creature of wind and wave.”

Action is delivered in a sensual manner that puts you right there, in the skin of the characters, seeing and hearing everything they do, and at the same rhythm: “When he had walked as far as the dockside along the swampy marsh, he saw a flash of leg, a gleam of skin. It was too tempting. He gave chase. He chased and chased it, into the Maze, and into a warren of alleys and hovels. He was about to give up when he caught sight of it again: a flash of skin, low cursing, heavy breathing and a clutter in an alley.”

I was especially moved by the scene of burning stables. “Horses screaming. Men running. Water in buckets; never enough. Black smoke billowing from the barracks, making men and horses caught and cough and wheeze. Lurid flames; evil, awful light from hell as hungry fire eats up men and horses, hopes and dreams.”

I find it an amazingly unique that this story is the product of creative collaboration between its two authors, Janet Morris and Chris Morris. Seamlessly executed, this is more than a story—it is a triumphant imagination of the possibility to rise above ourselves, so that everyday reality is but a shadow of what we can dream.

Five stars.

I got tagged by Christopher Bynum on his blog The Black Writer to carry the torch by taking part in a blog tour, in which we discuss our writing process.
What am I working on? How does my release differ from others of its genre? Why do I write what I do? How does my writing process work?

Click here to find out:
The Writing Process