Category: memoir

I’m Back

Reading by the beach in Tel Aviv. You can’t see me reading because the book and the camera are on the same device.

I know, you haven’t seen me here for over a year, apart from a few book reviews and notices about my latest book (Re-Connections: thirty-seven stories of connecting, disconnecting and reconnecting).

What Happened?

I’d been writing blog posts since March 23, 2009 – almost seventeen years. I used to have quite a few active followers. Over the years, I noticed my following dwindling until most posts gathered no comments and only a few likes.

Why was that? I think people were overwhelmed by content; I know I have been. Also, my content has changed. There is just so much new stuff to say about social anxiety. And anyway, just as I don’t want social anxiety to control my life, I don’t want it to control my output. There is more to me than that.

I saw that many people began to write posts on Substack and decided to jump on the bandwagon, starting on January 1, 2024. But I didn’t get many followers there either, and that’s probably because I didn’t promote myself enough. Besides, why should I spread myself thin?

So now I’m back to posting on my website with renewed vigour and fresh ideas. Also, thanks to world leaders and our Home Front Command, all my outside activities have been paused, giving me more time to write.

What Fresh Ideas?

Last month, I attended a writing retreat in the Trudos Mountains of Cyprus, led by a fabulous duo: Jennifer Lang and Sherri Mandell. I learned a lot about writing memoir and hope to produce one of my own. The first topic I want to research for that is: how to write about fathers. In my next post, I plan to bring you what I’ve learned on that topic. I hope some of you will have things to add.

See you again, soon.

Tags blog content, comments, Cyprus, fresh ideas, short stories, Social anxiety, writing retreat

Books Israel memoir Reviews

Places We Left Behind by Jennifer Lang: Book Review

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Apr 28, 2024
No Comments on Places We Left Behind by Jennifer Lang: Book Review

“A memoir-in-miniature” says the front cover, the words hovering over a cardboard box, its flaps raised, inviting me to unpack it. Written on the side of the box is the author’s name, leaving me in no doubt about the contents within.

But I’m wrong, not about the overall goal of this book but about the way it’s presented. The chapters are short, flash-fiction style, and all the words have been chosen with care and precision, clearly requiring several rewrites. And not only that. The formatting is also special. There are words crossed out, tables and diagrams, short lines, indented lines, framed lines, columns, blank spaces.

I have to admit that, as a person who struggles with visual clues, I don’t always understand the reasons for all these unusual formats. But I’m certain there are reasons as I read the book, and even more so at the end when I read the book-club-type questions. “What do you think is the difference between her [Jennifer’s] use of strikethroughs vs parentheses?” For me, the answer doesn’t matter; what’s important is that reasons exist, proving that everything in this book was carefully thought out.

And yet, none of this interfered with my enjoyment of the memoir, my wish to discover how the story would continue and end. I wasn’t disappointed.

Rereading my review of a few days ago, I notice I didn’t even mention the love story the memoir tells, the differences of opinion between the two players in the story, caused by their different backgrounds and attitudes towards religion. It made me keep thinking: surely this is the part when they agree to separate.

Although the love story formed the whole plot, it was the telling of it that made this book special.

Places We Left Behind

“For anyone who has ever loved deeply and been willing to take risks for the sake of love.” Rachel Barenbaum author of Atomic Anna

When American-born Jennifer falls in love with French-born Philippe during the First Intifada in Israel, she understands their relationship isn’t perfect.

Both 23, both Jewish, they lead very different lives: she’s a secular tourist, he’s an observant immigrant. Despite their opposing outlooks on two fundamental issues—country and religion—they are determined to make it work. For the next 20 years, they root and uproot their growing family, each longing for a singular place to call home.

In Places We Left Behind, Jennifer puts her marriage under a microscope, examining commitment and compromise, faith and family while moving between prose and poetry, playing with language and form, daring the reader to read ~~between the lines~~.

Jennifer Lang

American-French-Israeli hybrid; obsessed with identity, language, home, belonging

1995-today: Stories in BabyCenter, Parenting, Parents, Natural Solutions, Woman’s Day, Real Simple, Baltimore Review, Under the Sun, Barren Magazine, Quarter After Eight, Citron Review and on NPR

MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts; an Assistant Editor at Brevity Journal

Yogini, practicing since 1995, teaching since 2003

IG: jenlangwrites
FB: jenlangwrites

AWARDS for Places We Left Behind:
*Finalist in Multicultural Nonfiction in American Book Fest’s 20th Annual Best Book Awards
*Finalist in Multicultural Nonfiction in the IAN Book of the Year Awards 2024
*Gold Book Award Winner of Literary Titan

Tags flash non-fiction, Love Story, memoir, Places We Left Behind

Israel memoir memories

A Long Tradition

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day in Israel. Since 1951, this day in the Hebrew calendar (one week after the end of Passover and one week before Memorial Day and Independence Day) has been set aside to remember the Holocaust.

At ten o’clock today, I stood on the roof and turned towards Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, as the siren sounded and the country stopped for two minutes.

I didn’t want this day to pass without posting something, so I’m going to list three excellent stories that I’ve read, all books containing horrific events but also optimism. After all, Holocaust memories come from those who survived.