Oh, it’s on.

As I slowly rouse from the last four years of pregnant haze and breastfeeding exhaustion, the world becomes slightly clearer, a little brighter, and just a wee bit more attainable. I decided that I would spend this year investing in myself, dusting off the creative workshops, writing exercises, draft after draft after draft of whatever... Continue Reading →

Binders full of women.

The summer of hot wind: the year a US presidential election takes place. Keeps getting earlier, doesn't it? Maybe we all need to keep binders of women. Maybe we need to keep binders of fresh air. Nature's air. The air that hovers over those freshwater brooks they show on the natural bottled water. That air,... Continue Reading →

For one day only.

My fourth time at the Writing Gym and we did a collective character exercise again, this time with two characters. I didn't include every detail (ran out of time) and it's pretty rough but below is what I came up with from the following:  Andrew, 55-year-old male currently in Sfat, confused about religious affiliation, single,... Continue Reading →

My first obit.

In 2001 I started as a reporter-intern for the Staten Island Advance. I had already been freelancing as a teenager, so I knew a bit here and there, but I had never taken a course in journalism. I wasn't unique. On one of the first days, at our orientation meetings, we reporter-interns were told that... Continue Reading →

Version 1

Larutz. “Alright. Larutz.” “Shalosh… shtayim… echad…” The room collectively sucks in its breath… “Action!”[Footsteps sound outside the metal door. A man dressed as a mifaked bursts in, and then abruptly stops. He is listening to music that will be filled in by the director later. He starts to rock back and forth, in tune with... Continue Reading →

Israeli (5) – 2005.

Israeli.And then, he was back. We met for drinks to catch up and somehow, amid the silence of catching up, we sensed where each of us had been in the past two years. “You didn’t think I was going to come b’aliyah, did you?” I said it with my best defense mechanism smirk. “Well… I... Continue Reading →

Tayelet (4) – 2003.

Tayelet. We’re sitting in the VW Gulf, at the tayelet near Ramat Rachel, me and Shachar. That’s it, he says. His eyes are drawn to me and my eyes are drawn to Jerusalem, dark and naked in front of us. It takes a lot for me to turn my head and look at him; my... Continue Reading →

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