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message 1: by Uvi (new)

Uvi Poznansky | 37 comments Home by Uvi Poznansky

There is so much happening in the celebration of Home! There is a writing contest, a quilt of memories, and daily posts about the creation process, the publication process, art and writing of Home. If you haven't joined, you're missing out!

message 2: by Debra (new)

Debra (sociosight) | 16 comments Mazel tov on your upcoming book, Uvi! I didn't know we were allowed to promote our own books, or I'd be telling y'all all about mine. Trying to be respectful here...

message 3: by Uvi (new)

Uvi Poznansky | 37 comments Debra wrote: "Mazel tov on your upcoming book, Uvi! I didn't know we were allowed to promote our own books, or I'd be telling y'all all about mine. Trying to be respectful here..."

Thank you so much Debra for your kind wishes. How else would a book about Jewish themes come to your attention? If there is a different folder I should post to reach you, I would be more than happy to move this post from here.

message 4: by Uvi (last edited Dec 25, 2012 10:25AM) (new)

Uvi Poznansky | 37 comments "Then, all of the sudden, amidst the glow, he finds himself standing at the banks of a lake with his daddy. He lets go of his daddy’s hand, flings a stone and at once he can spot—right there, in the middle of the lake—a ripple taking shape. One circle rises magically inside another, widening, riding out farther and farther until at long last it fades out. White lilies can be seen floating all around. One of them is right here, at arms reach. Only a thin line, the line of illusion, separates the petal from its white reflection. And underneath it, schools of golden fish scurry in one direction, then take a sharp turn and flow elsewhere."

An excerpt from Home.

More and more guests from around the world are already here, at Our Family Tree.

message 5: by Uvi (new)

Uvi Poznansky | 37 comments In my story A Heartbeat, Reversed, Edna peers inside a cabinet, and deep down on the bottom shelf she discovers a box. She pulls it out, lifts the flap, and then she can already sense what lies there, covered under the obscure plastic wrap. Perhaps she should avoid unwrapping the thing. It is a silent movie projector, which later in the story allows her to rewind back time.

Now Edna recalled how the very act of projecting had been a special ritual, a special game for her: Watching the reels turn, listening to the sound they produced, gauging the contrast between the blackest black, the whitest white—and above all, playing with different speeds, both forwards and back. It made her marvel at how the brain would merge separate images, to create the illusion of motion.
Giddy with excitement, Edna carried the box to the living room. She used her elbow to clear the coffee table and then, very carefully, set it down. Inside, tucked under the machine, she found two reels: One empty, the other heavy with celluloid. The filmstrip rolled down her fingers. Thrilled at the familiar touch, the touch of perforations, she threaded it as best she could, up and down through several guides, until it locked into place. Then, aiming the projector at the wall, she fired it up.

By the end of the story, something starts happening to her. When her husband Ethan comes back home, we see the scene through his eyes.

He entered the living room and at first glance all he could see, in the ghastly light of the projector, was celluloid; clips and clips of celluloid snaking, curling one over the other, all over the coffee table, all over the floor.
“Edna?” he cried.
He bent over to turn off the machine, and it was there—in the darkest dark, right under that beam of light—that he stumbled over her. He brushed away the celluloid and, guided by nothing more than a sense of touch, passed a hand over her forehead, her eyelid, her ear, trying to piece together how she looked, and what had happened here.
“Wake up, babe,” he whispered.
Her breathing was barely audible. He took a guess—by the grip of her fingers over her nose, and the subtle movement of her cheeks—that she was hiding a smile. Was it a game? Was she toying with him?

It is through his eyes, ears and fingers that we will be led to the final discovery.

The story appears in full on the pages of my poetry book, Home.

message 6: by Uvi (new)

Uvi Poznansky | 37 comments Thomas Baker is an author of romance, historical fiction, autobiographical, sports history/biography, and English Language Teaching. He is also a top Amazon reviewer, who ranks top 1000. I am thrilled to find his review of my book, Home:

★★★★★ "Home" is Exquisite, Extraordinary, Unique, & Superb, August 30, 2014
By Thomas Baker "Thomas is the Past-President of TESOL Chile (2010-2011). He is the Head of the English Department at Colegio Internacional SEK in Santiago."

This is an extraordinary book. I had read other books from Uvi Poznansky before so I knew I was in for an enjoyable read. What makes this book extraordinary is the fact that it represents the efforts of Uvi to render a fitting tribute to her father, Zeev Kachel. It is a collection of poems and prose, half written by her, and half by her father. This combination is unique, and made even more so by its posthumous nature.

This brings to mind Natalie Cole singing a duet with her late father, Nat King Cole. My favorite is listening to both of them singing, "Unforgettable". Here's how she describes it: ""I think it's always a little bit bittersweet when I do it," Cole said of recording duets with her late father, who passed at age 45 from lung cancer, "but I do love to do it because I feel so connected to him. ... It's still emotional, but it still feels good, so you always still want to hold on to that feeling." (Source: ET interview)

Here's how Uvi describes "Home": "Home. A simple word; a loaded one. You can say it in a whisper; you can say it in a cry. Expressed in the voices of father and daughter you can hear a visceral longing for an ideal place, a place never to be found again." (end of quote)

As a teacher, the poem written by Zeev Kachel that caught my attention the most is called, "My Teachers". It is profoundly insightful, personifying "chill", "time" and "dream", essentially elevating these three concepts to the status of teacher. Coming to the poem, I am expecting the story of "real" teachers who impacted his life in a memorable way, and instead, I am greeted with a metaphorical trinity who are uniquely worthy of the status accorded them by the poet. For me, this is a very powerful, evocative poem that I am able to relate to.

In sum, allow me only one word: extraordinary. I have seen no other book like this. It is superb, exquisite, a literary duo that rivals the musical duo of Natalie and Nat King Cole in every way. Highly recommended.

Get ★★★★★ HOME
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Home by Uvi Poznansky

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