Yesterday, I received the final email confirmation from my coauthor which I wanted to hear: she will send the book proposal to our propspective editor at Corwin Press. How sweet! How quick!
It's hard to believe that what started as a dream back in Israel, has evolved into subsequent drafts, 50 to be exact.
I put the dream into motion as a new immigrant in Pittsburgh, writing on my own in the Squirrel Hill library in Pittsburgh for months from my laptop along with files of the teacher's life, then collaborated with a coauthor after a talk with my editor.
It has been a journey.
Now, the waiting time begins.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
A Brief Update for Those Interested
On the outside, it's just another day. Getting ready for the writing desk, living, mother to Ivry. But there's a lot going on inside, too.
Bulleted points of interest for those following my footsteps...
* Celebrated my first Mother's Day in the States was nice albeit rainy. The Sunday plans to join other Israelis at a local park was cancelled, so we went shopping for a vacuum cleaner. How fun! Now the carpet really looks clean after we threw out the second (or third) hand one.
* Our request for an additional year of absence from the kibbutz has been approved. We intend to stay in Pittsburgh for the upcoming year.
* Work is underway with coauthoring the book "Developing Literacy in K-2 English language learners." I recently checked the draft folder. 50 drafts! (and counting)
* Recently, I discovered a beautiful easy-to-walk trail out in Schenely Park last week. I came back half-energized, half in reverie. It's been a while since I escaped from the computer.
* We're thinking of renting a car for a few days. The last time I drove in the State was in 1997 and before that was in 1989. There are days when I am more adventurous than others. Truthfully, I wish there were buses that went via Raccoon State park and other beautiful nature reserves that I can only see on the Internet.
* I've signed up for a writer's coach / summer boot camp. I think it's what I need right now to take the writing to the next level. I've also applied for a community service program called Literacycorps under the Americorps division. I've got a few site interviews lined up soon. Full time position starts in September.
* Recently, we were looking at flights to Israel. I am getting a little bit homesick to see our kibbutz, family, friends, but apparently, not enough to pay $1500 just for me, let alone for Haim and Ivry. Yowza!!!!! Unfortunately, the price hikes in gas do not intend to stop anytime soon.
* I'm feeling isolated a bit so I'm glad I stepped out of my shell and contacted a few local mothers - one via my writing groups who put me in contact with others. Not sure on what is to be, but at least, it's a positive move in some direction.
* Yesterday, I bought a skirt at Target. Nice dark cream brown. Twenty bucks. Cotton. With slits. My kind of color. Earth colors.I'm wearing it now. Makes me look like a few more pounds. Probably due to the buttermilk pancakes I just ate.
* I've decided to be more accountable with the time I spend on the computer. Too much time checking emails! So after writing in this blog entry, I am going to hold myself accountable for the writing/Internet time. A schedule's a powerful thing!
Anyhow, have a great week, folks! See you in the 'burgh'...
Bulleted points of interest for those following my footsteps...
* Celebrated my first Mother's Day in the States was nice albeit rainy. The Sunday plans to join other Israelis at a local park was cancelled, so we went shopping for a vacuum cleaner. How fun! Now the carpet really looks clean after we threw out the second (or third) hand one.
* Our request for an additional year of absence from the kibbutz has been approved. We intend to stay in Pittsburgh for the upcoming year.
* Work is underway with coauthoring the book "Developing Literacy in K-2 English language learners." I recently checked the draft folder. 50 drafts! (and counting)
* Recently, I discovered a beautiful easy-to-walk trail out in Schenely Park last week. I came back half-energized, half in reverie. It's been a while since I escaped from the computer.
* We're thinking of renting a car for a few days. The last time I drove in the State was in 1997 and before that was in 1989. There are days when I am more adventurous than others. Truthfully, I wish there were buses that went via Raccoon State park and other beautiful nature reserves that I can only see on the Internet.
* I've signed up for a writer's coach / summer boot camp. I think it's what I need right now to take the writing to the next level. I've also applied for a community service program called Literacycorps under the Americorps division. I've got a few site interviews lined up soon. Full time position starts in September.
* Recently, we were looking at flights to Israel. I am getting a little bit homesick to see our kibbutz, family, friends, but apparently, not enough to pay $1500 just for me, let alone for Haim and Ivry. Yowza!!!!! Unfortunately, the price hikes in gas do not intend to stop anytime soon.
* I'm feeling isolated a bit so I'm glad I stepped out of my shell and contacted a few local mothers - one via my writing groups who put me in contact with others. Not sure on what is to be, but at least, it's a positive move in some direction.
* Yesterday, I bought a skirt at Target. Nice dark cream brown. Twenty bucks. Cotton. With slits. My kind of color. Earth colors.I'm wearing it now. Makes me look like a few more pounds. Probably due to the buttermilk pancakes I just ate.
* I've decided to be more accountable with the time I spend on the computer. Too much time checking emails! So after writing in this blog entry, I am going to hold myself accountable for the writing/Internet time. A schedule's a powerful thing!
Anyhow, have a great week, folks! See you in the 'burgh'...
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Thursday Thirteen April 17.2008
Thirteen Things that Happened at 3:00 in the Morning
One would think that calming my three year old son with his nightmarish fits at 3:00 o'clock would purport me to sleep. But that wasn't the case. now, I'm wide awake as if I'm ready to tackle the day.
1. I calmed Ivry down and he finally fell asleep on our bed
2. I went to the bathroom and tried to fall asleep
3. I tossed and truned and focused on the air-conditioning sound at the apartment above me
4. I hugged my son and saw he had fallen asleep
5. My brain started thinking
6. My stomach started hurting
7. I went to the bathroom again
8. I began to feel homesick for my four walled kibbutz apartment
9. I thought about my progress with my writing endeavors including that of my book, our impending visit to NYC to see my mom, and unfinished Passover tasks
10. I hugged my pillow
11. I hugged my son
12. I tried meditating
13. I came to the computer... and here I am!
I like to have a full 7 -8 hours sleep. Wonder what happened today? There's a lot of stress I'm feeling lately - that I know for sure. Stress with revising the book, finding enough freelance writing gigs if I make that decision to branch over to freelance writing and finding a day job. But then there are the triggers to all that stress.
Deep inside, I know where the anxiety is also coming from: I think I'd be better off knowing I've released the feelings of doubts and uncertainty. Is this just me? Is anybody else feeling this way at times.... Any thoughts?
Happy TT
One would think that calming my three year old son with his nightmarish fits at 3:00 o'clock would purport me to sleep. But that wasn't the case. now, I'm wide awake as if I'm ready to tackle the day.
1. I calmed Ivry down and he finally fell asleep on our bed
2. I went to the bathroom and tried to fall asleep
3. I tossed and truned and focused on the air-conditioning sound at the apartment above me
4. I hugged my son and saw he had fallen asleep
5. My brain started thinking
6. My stomach started hurting
7. I went to the bathroom again
8. I began to feel homesick for my four walled kibbutz apartment
9. I thought about my progress with my writing endeavors including that of my book, our impending visit to NYC to see my mom, and unfinished Passover tasks
10. I hugged my pillow
11. I hugged my son
12. I tried meditating
13. I came to the computer... and here I am!
I like to have a full 7 -8 hours sleep. Wonder what happened today? There's a lot of stress I'm feeling lately - that I know for sure. Stress with revising the book, finding enough freelance writing gigs if I make that decision to branch over to freelance writing and finding a day job. But then there are the triggers to all that stress.
Deep inside, I know where the anxiety is also coming from: I think I'd be better off knowing I've released the feelings of doubts and uncertainty. Is this just me? Is anybody else feeling this way at times.... Any thoughts?
Happy TT
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Wordless Wednesday: Can I Kiss You Before I Go to the JCC?
This is what my precious little Ivry said to me this morning just before he left for the Jewish Community Center where he attends daycare. I love you was all I could say!
On a different note, I spoke to my editor yesterday afternoon. We talked for about an hour. He praised the contents of the book suggesting that I could clearly benefit from the writing with a co-author. An hour later I called my reviewer and asked if she would be interested in doing the project with me. She gave an affirmative 'yes'. We'll, see how that goes!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Sedar Manners from New York to Israel and Back Again
Sedar Manners from New York to Israel and Back Again
by Dorit Sasson
As I watch my three year son slurp chicken soup after Friday night’s service, I am almost home. Well, almost. I want to get on that LIRR train to Far Rockaway so much. But for the sake of Sedar manners, I push that memory just a bit back in my subconscious.
I truly feel like an outsider now that we’ve moved back to the States. I’ve lived in both Israel and American in equal numbers of years, but when it comes time to slurping soup, time stands still. Momma tried to teach me what she thought were Sedar manners for eight years, and she didn’t compromise - even on a Sedar night. She thought the excitement of singing the four questions (what has changed, Ma Nishtana?) would perhaps distract me from slurping soup and watching others slurp. The thought of watching her almost eighteen year old daughter become excited by little cousin Zackary’s version of “Ma Nishtana?” (what has changed) made her finally realized that I was busy to be bothered with keeping up with sedar manners.
“Don’t you have something you would like to share with the family?” she asked me on my last Passover sedar.
“What, what are you talking about?” I asked as uncle Eddie put down his soup spoon and lifting his head.
“You know, about you volunteering on a kibbutz and moving to Israel.” My mom said.
Sharing my decision of emigrating to Israel, I felt like I was Moses leading the people across through the Dead Sea with his stick. All eyes were upon me. But I slurped my matzah ball soup quietly in order to distract myself from the silence. The truth was I was scared. I knew that Far Rockaway and Greenwich Village were really the only two homes I knew.
Uncle Eddie smiled. “Well, at least we know who’s going to be in Jerusalem next year, as they say in the Torah.”
Since then I have spent the next 18 Passover sedars in and around Jerusalem. Only last year, I’ve discovered a need to come back home, perhaps to understand that slurping Matzoh ball soup is just as universal as I thought it is.
After a long hiatus from submitting posts to Scribbit's Write Away Contest, I'm happy to say that I've found myself a bit inspired and submitted again.
by Dorit Sasson
As I watch my three year son slurp chicken soup after Friday night’s service, I am almost home. Well, almost. I want to get on that LIRR train to Far Rockaway so much. But for the sake of Sedar manners, I push that memory just a bit back in my subconscious.
I truly feel like an outsider now that we’ve moved back to the States. I’ve lived in both Israel and American in equal numbers of years, but when it comes time to slurping soup, time stands still. Momma tried to teach me what she thought were Sedar manners for eight years, and she didn’t compromise - even on a Sedar night. She thought the excitement of singing the four questions (what has changed, Ma Nishtana?) would perhaps distract me from slurping soup and watching others slurp. The thought of watching her almost eighteen year old daughter become excited by little cousin Zackary’s version of “Ma Nishtana?” (what has changed) made her finally realized that I was busy to be bothered with keeping up with sedar manners.
“Don’t you have something you would like to share with the family?” she asked me on my last Passover sedar.
“What, what are you talking about?” I asked as uncle Eddie put down his soup spoon and lifting his head.
“You know, about you volunteering on a kibbutz and moving to Israel.” My mom said.
Sharing my decision of emigrating to Israel, I felt like I was Moses leading the people across through the Dead Sea with his stick. All eyes were upon me. But I slurped my matzah ball soup quietly in order to distract myself from the silence. The truth was I was scared. I knew that Far Rockaway and Greenwich Village were really the only two homes I knew.
Uncle Eddie smiled. “Well, at least we know who’s going to be in Jerusalem next year, as they say in the Torah.”
Since then I have spent the next 18 Passover sedars in and around Jerusalem. Only last year, I’ve discovered a need to come back home, perhaps to understand that slurping Matzoh ball soup is just as universal as I thought it is.
After a long hiatus from submitting posts to Scribbit's Write Away Contest, I'm happy to say that I've found myself a bit inspired and submitted again.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Light at the End of the Tunnel
After months of research and writing, there is a faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
Yesterday, my prospective editor emailed me about my book proposal I sent exactly a month ago.
He wants to discuss it further over the phone. This is the confirmation I was looking for and legitimizes all that hard hard work.
Sometimes that glimmer is hard to see and sometimes, we don't even believe there's reason to dream.
Well, I am here to tell you that they can happen. Not like tomorrow I'm going to be a published author anyhow...:)
Later y'all!
Yesterday, my prospective editor emailed me about my book proposal I sent exactly a month ago.
He wants to discuss it further over the phone. This is the confirmation I was looking for and legitimizes all that hard hard work.
Sometimes that glimmer is hard to see and sometimes, we don't even believe there's reason to dream.
Well, I am here to tell you that they can happen. Not like tomorrow I'm going to be a published author anyhow...:)
Later y'all!
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Look What The Post Brought Today...
So much of what I have done with my life and decisions has been thought out, planned, reviewed, and sometimes even misunderstood. I tend to think I'm a real pro at moving cross-Atlantic, spacing out my life through not one, but seven time zones.
Like most people or at least the people I know, make decision based on a heart-felt conscience: I know, I feel, I do - only I think I know the 'feel' part. I mark the territory when I know I am certain. But underneath this certainty, there's an old friend, waiting to be held, told stories to, play Trivia and Scrabble. It's as Anne Lamott said tonight at her lecture: "it's the mothers of all our quilts" that have touched us.
I was touched today too, by Anne or "Annie" as they called her by her community of wordship. It didn't lead to a pronounced list of what I did wrong on the bus ride back home to where I have taken incredible leaps and bounds of faith just by leaving a kibbutz, a warm comfortable pastoral, domestic niche that cannot be explained or transmitted through a blog; But just to come here to Pittsburgh, to relive a dream that suddenly breaks me free of one area of certainty into a entire pool of vulnerability makes me feel incredibly naked. And when I feel naked, I feel a need also to swim.
It's that 'slow, slow, quick, quick' steps of 'foxtrotting' that she and her boyfriend learned but aren't afraid to learn. It's my will as a writer to find the words that might give me great strength and also in my faith, but the road might scare me. It's the act of trying that might spill my faith from the world, I have known and grown so well.
You all know I'm sure what faith does when you think you will abandon it, to find that you weren't certain, that you made the greatest mistake.
I walked over icy paths and snow melts tonight to find that my faith wasn't real a leap at all: it's just what I need to do. I'm right back at where I started with the words, the need to feel humble and alive again, the need to write on tiny pieces of notes and stick them in a box as Annie Lamott says: "a God's box".
But in essence, I can't do that without a little bit of faith. I realize that I can't do anything anymore without a bit of help. I know I have 'bird by bird' beside me.
Like most people or at least the people I know, make decision based on a heart-felt conscience: I know, I feel, I do - only I think I know the 'feel' part. I mark the territory when I know I am certain. But underneath this certainty, there's an old friend, waiting to be held, told stories to, play Trivia and Scrabble. It's as Anne Lamott said tonight at her lecture: "it's the mothers of all our quilts" that have touched us.
I was touched today too, by Anne or "Annie" as they called her by her community of wordship. It didn't lead to a pronounced list of what I did wrong on the bus ride back home to where I have taken incredible leaps and bounds of faith just by leaving a kibbutz, a warm comfortable pastoral, domestic niche that cannot be explained or transmitted through a blog; But just to come here to Pittsburgh, to relive a dream that suddenly breaks me free of one area of certainty into a entire pool of vulnerability makes me feel incredibly naked. And when I feel naked, I feel a need also to swim.
It's that 'slow, slow, quick, quick' steps of 'foxtrotting' that she and her boyfriend learned but aren't afraid to learn. It's my will as a writer to find the words that might give me great strength and also in my faith, but the road might scare me. It's the act of trying that might spill my faith from the world, I have known and grown so well.
You all know I'm sure what faith does when you think you will abandon it, to find that you weren't certain, that you made the greatest mistake.
I walked over icy paths and snow melts tonight to find that my faith wasn't real a leap at all: it's just what I need to do. I'm right back at where I started with the words, the need to feel humble and alive again, the need to write on tiny pieces of notes and stick them in a box as Annie Lamott says: "a God's box".
But in essence, I can't do that without a little bit of faith. I realize that I can't do anything anymore without a bit of help. I know I have 'bird by bird' beside me.
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