A Cynic's Spiritual Experience

In late May I joined members of my family at the Bar Mitzvah of my great-nephew, Max Harris. I've attended other family Bar and Bat Mitzvahs and have shared the pleasure of the families watching their children experience this significant milestone. Yet I have typically looked upon most religious rituals with some cynicism. It was different this time. This was unique and joyful.  

When  my nephew Bobby told me that his son wanted to have his Bar Mitzvah at Camp Coleman in Cleveland, Georgia, where Bobby is Camp Director, I had many misgivings as I anticipated the physical discomforts of camp life and a difficult drive to get there from the Atlanta airport. I remembered a family reunion at a camp near Pittsburgh where the heat was stifling and several people were crowded into cramped cabins.

The weekend of the event promised lovely weather. My brother, my son and daughter-in-law arranged to meet me at the rental car booth connected to the Atlanta airport. Most of the drive was unnerving, even though my brother did the driving. When Bobby welcomed us as we pulled up to the camp office, the first happy surprise was the size of the camp, its natural beauty, the lake and trees, and the variety of facilities. The many winding roads to cabins spread out over a large area of wooded terrain offered a sense of privacy. Bobby and wife Ellen had obviously devoted a great deal of attention to the assignment of accommodations for their guests. My room in the health center was large, private, comfortable, and convenient to all activities.
 

As other family members and friends arrived, the atmosphere became even more relaxed. Bobby and Ellen made sure everyone knew that this was camp and dress was informal. They had alerted us in advance that for Friday night’s Shabbat dinner, people at camp typically wore white if they could.  Everyone tried to comply, but otherwise it was casual and comfortable, with little concern by anyone about how we looked. 

After the prayers to welcome the Sabbath and the buffet dinner, we gathered outside under the stars and around the campfire while a rabbi told stories and the cantor played the guitar to lead group singing. I could feel the tension of the past weeks lifting. There were funny moments that made me think of what comments my mother would have made if she had lived to attend this event. I know she would have been thrilled to be surrounded by so many of her family members.

The actual Bar Mitzvah took place on Saturday morning in an outdoor chapel surrounded by tall trees glistening from the sunshine.  Before Max was called to read from the Torah, he sat in front of the congregation drumming to the musical prayers. Bobby and Ellen each spoke of their love for Max and the meaning this milestone in his life had for them. Various family members were called to read passages from the Torah. Max did a superb job with his reading and speech. His younger sister Sophie also read a prayer with great confidence and skill. My daughter Lisa and I had the honor of opening the ark together.

Throughout the service I realized how connected I felt being part of this experience with close family members, especially when Bobby’s sister Cheryl and her family stood together reading their Hebrew passage. I thought about Bobby and Cheryl’s mother…my sister Corrine…who had passed away several years ago. The spirit of her loving kindness and warm smile seemed to pervade the atmosphere. I thought about Morley…my sister’s husband…who died less than two years ago and how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. I felt that they were both a part of this ceremony.

I looked at the trees and the sky and realized that not only did this event combine ancient ritual with modern practices, but the setting brought nature and family together, creating a truly spiritual experience.

How Should Authors Answer These Two Questions?

Since I published The Unveiling, most conversations with friends and family seem to include two questions: first “How many copies have you sold?” and second “What will you write next?”

I can't tell if people believe me when I say that I’m not sure how many copies I’ve sold at any given time. The quarterly statements I get from my publisher are always a few months late and the on-line summaries do not spell anything out in detail.  Two months after the end of each quarter I do get a detailed report listing what royalties I’ve earned through on-line sales, ebooks and kindle books. Even this does not indicate how many books were sold at large discounts to reach that total.

Because I have used a print-on-demand publishing package, it was up to me to approach retailers and other organizations in the hope that they might carry copies of The Unveiling for sale.. They ask that I call every few months to inquire about sales and royalties. I keep detailed records of how many books I have bought and sold on my own at presentations. When I add these to what I believe are the on-line and kindle sales, I can make a good estimate. What is reassuring to me is that I am still receiving royalty checks from the publisher, from various retail outlets and from a number of organizations.

It is even harder for me to answer the second question. While promoting The Unveiling by speaking to groups interested in mental health and family secrets, my focus was on the best way to present the book to specific groups and how to increase interest among potential readers. The preparation, the travel and the follow up all require skills that are very different from those needed for research and writing.

I now have an outline of my next book. It will be a novel based on a suspenseful investigation. I’ve begun to talk about it and to seek advice from some individuals who have special insights and experience. But the story and characters have not yet taken shape. Discipline to begin the actual research and writing is what I now need. I'm seeking a balance of keeping people interested and getting down to hard work.

I would welcome any suggestions other authors might offer about how they answer these questions and how they have made the transition from promoting one book to starting their next.

What Family Secrets Will People Share?

Last night I was the guest speaker at a meeting of a chapter of Na’amat in Toronto. Eighteen members were in attendance. Their response adds to my conclusion that The Unveiling has the power to free many people of the burden of keeping their own family secrets.

The main focus of the organization is fund-raising, and they had a full agenda planning for two upcoming events. They changed the order of their program to let me speak first so they would have more time for the business at hand. I didn’t think this was an encouraging start.

To my surprise, once I began sharing the family story, I had their full attention. They shook their heads in understanding at some parts of the story, they gasped at the description of David learning about his father’s mental illness.

When I finished my presentation, many of the women immediately shared stories of secrets their friends and families have kept, including mental illness of a parent or a cousin, mental retardation in a family, and even a cousin’s prostitution. One woman pointed out that even when a relative of hers was diagnosed with cancer, they were not allowed to talk about it.

The women repeated many Yiddish phrases that indicate how it is better not to talk about something that causes shame for the people involved. I was surprised at how much of these Yiddish sayings I understood. I remembered hearing these comments as I was growing up and how much pain it caused my mother to know they were talking about her family.

Just before people left, one woman came up to me, thanked me for my courage in sharing my family’s situation and announced: “I have a family secret, and I have no intention of telling anyone about it.” I wonder if she will change her mind after reading the book.

(Photo was taken at a study group my father attended while still a teenager in Lithuania. He is the first one on the left reading a paper.)

Deciding on a Book's Title

“It was a pity that with such a head the child had not been born a boy, destined for a life of study. A girl with such a head, when the child is very young, is like the ostrich…a bird that has been given wings but will never fly.” This is what people in the shtetl thought about intellectually curious girls.

I learned from my research of women in the shtetls that the ideal woman was submissive, docile, decorous, retiring, modest, patient and utterly devoted to family. She had no personal ambitions. In her own right, the woman was nothing except to bear and socialize children, and to provide a harmonious home conducive to men’s study and prayer.

A woman’s prayer was not necessary and did not benefit the community. It was considered a waste to educate women. It was felt by some rabbis of the era that “an educated female is a cinder in God’s eye.”

When I began writing The Unveiling, one of the titles I considered was Wings of the Ostrich, an ironic title to highlight my mother’s strength of character. Key to her life’s story was her love of education, the disappointment she felt when it was denied her and the level of her determination to help her children receive higher education. Instead, I chose the title The Unveiling to better encompass the theme of the book, the uncovering of family secrets.

However, many readers have commented that they see both my mother and grandmother as heroines whose resourcefulness and personal achievements secured their family’s survival and hope for the future. Rather than having wings that would never be used, they had strong shoulders upon which their children and grandchildren could stand as they strove for a better life.

Photo taken in Skvira shows my mother standing on chair, her Mother standing beside her and her sister standing in front.

How Do You Get a “Home Town Bounce” Marketing Your Book?

This is another question I've been asked, and it is not an easy one to answer. Even though I spent my childhood and early adult life in Pittsburgh, and still have friends and relatives who live there, I’ve spent more years in Toronto. So what is my "home town?"

I got my inspiration for the characters of The Unveiling from my family, with the result that much of the book is set in Pittsburgh. The story reflects the history of Pittsburgh’s immigrants. (Picture on left shows my grandmother, Anna Rubin, becoming a U.S. citizen. Standing with her is H.J. Heinz.) So I have been hoping for significant interest and a reasonable number of readers in Pittsburgh.

To date this expectation has been partly realized. Family members who live in Pittsburgh have been my best customers and PR people. So have close friends and colleagues, who have not only read the book, but ordered extra copies to pass along to other friends and associates. A few old high school friends heard about The Unveiling, read it, reconnected with me and encouraged others to read it. Other acquaintances have promised to speak with people they know in various organizations, encouraging them to invite me to speak about the impact of mental illness on families.

The biggest “home town bounce” has been the positive review in Pittsburgh’s Jewish Chronicle in late March 2010. I am aware that some people I know provided The Chronicle with review copies, so my carefully worded pitch email probably was not the reason for the review. And another “bounce” came during the past week when the owner of Bradley’s Books in Pittsburgh, after speaking with my cousin, Mel Solomon, decided to carry copies in two of his stores and to invite me to do signings.

I’ve had a few disappointments, probably because I am not presently a Pittsburgh resident. Other than the Chronicle, the Pittsburgh news media has shown minimal interest in The Unveiling. And the Carnegie Library of Squirrel Hill resorted to rigid national library policy as an excuse to rule out my making a personal appearance, despite welcoming “local” authors in the past.

More than getting a “home town bounce” in marketing The Unveiling, I’ve had a “family and friend bounce”. Relatives and friends give copies to associates, and this leads to invitations for me to speak to groups…in Toronto, Florida, Georgia and Maryland so far.

As an author who is responsible for my own book marketing, I’ve been following advice from other authors and public relations experts offered on the social media. Going after that “home town bounce” has been one piece of advice, and it is worth following, but it is only one part of a much more complex challenge.

CONNECTING IN PITTSBURGH

My Air Canada direct flight to Pittsburgh on April 23rd was smooth and uneventful. I had to wait only five minutes for the bus between the airport and Carnegie-Mellon University where one of my hosts, Joel Merenstein, was waiting to pick me up. The weekend began with Nancy Merenstein’s delicious Friday night dinner followed by friendly conversation.

The rain on Saturday did not spoil lunch at the Casbah Restaurant with Emil and Barbara Trellis. They have been among my strongest supporters since I shared an early manuscript of The Unveiling with them. They continue to go out of their way to bring the book to the attention of potential readers and reviewers.

Saturday night dinner was with close cousins at the home of Cyma and Jerry Dolan. My past visits with these cousins have always been special as we share memories of past joyful events and catch up on more recent activities. This get-together was remarkably different in a positive way.

During the last few months the cousins had read The Unveiling, and they say it gave them new insights into my mother’s courage. They wanted to know more about my father’s illness and felt comfortable asking about him. We all agreed that in the past people in the family did not talk about him or his mental illness. I felt lifted to another level of liberation as I shared more details with these cousins I care for so much.

Sunday brought a big surprise when I got the email from Lisa, my daughter, telling me she was flying to Pittsburgh to help celebrate the 100th birthday of my Uncle Jack Rubin, my father’s only surviving brother. Lisa and I were both delighted to see him looking well and able to share happy greetings with everyone. Being together with Uncle Jack, my cousins and their kids and grandkids and others who are close to the family was uplifting. (That's Jeff, Larry, Kenny Rubin and me in the photo.) My conversation with a distant cousin, whom I met for the first time, led to some information about my father that I had never heard before.

I made one last connection on Sunday night. Marlene Rebb, sister of Ann Stone, an old friend from Peabody High school, invited me to dinner along with Shirley Katz, who had been the Executive Director of the Foreward-Shady Apartments when my mother lived there. Shirley was enthusiastic about The Unveiling, and liked the idea that she actually inspired a character in one scene in the book. Not only did she remember the occasion, but she also recalled what she had said. Shirley and Marlene both promised to help spread the word about The Unveiling among their Pittsburgh network. The dinner was a delight, and the memories of my mother shared by Shirley put the finishing touches on a memorable weekend.

Why Did You Write This As Fiction and Not a Family Memoir?

When I meet with people who are interested in discussing The Unveiling with me, one of the most frequent questions raised is “Why did you decide to make this a historical novel rather than a memoir?”

Let me explain why I decided to write it as fiction.

From the beginning, my plan was to build this story around my mother’s life – to portray her family background, the early hardships of her childhood, her dreams and accomplishments, and her valiant efforts as a single mother enduring the stigma of a mentally ill husband.

The first time I interviewed my mother, she enthusiastically provided many hours of taped interviews. I was surprised at how many personal experiences she shared, although in a few instances, I convinced her to tell me things only by reassuring her that the book would be fiction and all names would be changed.

My mother’s memories of the sights and sounds of the pogroms her family suffered through always impressed young family members who became her audience through the years. Although she didn’t remember the historical sequence of some of the events, she gave me enough detail to allow me to draw upon historical research to confirm the information she provided and to use my imagination to fill in possible scenarios, consistent with factual records of the same time periods.

After interviewing my mother, I decided to speak with other relatives to strengthen the story that was emerging. Each interviewee added an important dimension, but they didn’t always remember things in a consistent way. And they all left some gaps in the story.

Writing the book as fiction allowed me to enhance some of the memories. It also enabled me to include dialogue that might have taken place as I tried to capture the voices of  the people and the humor in their Yiddish phrases.

I never intended this book to be a genealogical study of our family. I know some of my relatives have done such studies and have more information than I do about the genealogy. Because my mother had so many relatives, I had to leave some out who were not central to her story. I had to combine other characters, including many who were dear friends to my mother. I even imagined a few characters who could have played a significant role in the action. For me the important thing is that the book celebrates my mother’s courage and my family’s resilience…and those features are not fictional.