In the past few blogs I’ve written about wanting to love my birth mother Rosa, a woman I did not get to know. The mother who raised me, however, I knew and loved dearly.
She was 50 when she decided to keep me. her name was Esther, but I called her Mutti, for she was German. She was born in 1888, while Queen Victoria still ruled in England. Picture being raised by a Victorian woman! I could ...
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During my second year at the Academy, the Mexican delegation at the International Handicrafts Fair in Munich engaged me as the interpreter for English, Spanish, and German. The dark interpreter intrigued those who had come to admire Mexican handy crafts. On April 24, 1962, an image of me smiling next to an intricately crafted Mexican silver mirror appeared in the Süddeutsche Zeitung and included a few details about me. I was causing a slight sensation as the only ...
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In writing my recent book, Split at the Root: A Memoir of Love and Lost Identity (Kindle) or Split at the Root: A Memoir of Love and Lost Identity, I tell the story of growing up within a culture and a race that was different to my own. Here’s an excerpt:
The American School was more like an exclusive club than a school. I entered the English language section, which I considered a mark of distinction. It underlined ...
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Blame it on the Gemini Mid-heaven or the waning quarter moon in the 10th house of my chart, or both, but fact is that I enthusiastically start a project only to let it lie around, sometimes for years. Then I find it, act as if I’ve made a great discovery, blow the dust off and continue where I left off as if there’d been no lapse in time.
That’s what happened with a manuscript I began in 2005. I had practically ...
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This has been quite an intense week that began with a book signing and was followed by a trip to Philly to attend a series of conferences.
My greatest joy upon returning was finding a review of Split at the Root on The Lost Daughters blog posted by Karen Pickell. Karen was also adopted and understood the conflicted experiences my book exposes. It is a real gift to see that my message is being accepted ...
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