How could this be happening again, in 2023? This quote from a story by Yair Rosenberg, whose excellent "Deep Shtetl" column appears in the Atlantic, is one of many such expressions of horror and shock. "I’m a child of Holocaust survivors,” one Israeli woman told reporters. “I grew up hearing stories of the camps. I thought those were the worst stories. These stories are worse.
Writing
Mustard’s Last Stand: Seeding a New Memoir
Like many writers, I enjoy crafting articles. It's fun to explore different topics and, after all this time, I still get a kick out of seeing my byline in different outlets. But publishing has changed in recent years, largely for the worse. Magazines and newspapers are constantly folding or getting bought out by large corporations, with a concomitant shift of staff and
It’s the Quinquennial Family History Writing Challenge!
Like many writers, I thrive on deadlines. That's not to say I don't rail against them and say many bad words when they close in, but without a strict time frame I tend to dither my time away. When I am paid to write, the incentive for meeting my deadlines is clear. When I am not...well, I have to come up with an artificial construct. Like the guilt or public shame that follows
Opening Up to Elijah: A Passover Story
Call me a seder skeptic. I'm fond of the Passover story, its message of exile and redemption. I especially like the ritual of saving a place at the table and a glass of wine for the prophet Elijah. Like Santa Claus, he is required to visit millions of homes in a single night. Opening the door for him to come in after the seder meal is a simple act of faith that often gives
Grief, Food, & Nudity: A Story About My Mother & My New Book
Not long after my father died, I went to Martinique with my mother. I remember three things about that trip. My mother's grief. The profiteroles. And the topless beach. Grief, food, and nudity My mother was in a raw stage of mourning, subject to fits of literal wailing. But no one in my family was ever too upset to eat, especially dessert. And Martinique is a French island,
Of Chutzpah, Kickstarter, and Keeping a Low Profile
When I was growing up, my mother always implied that my sister and I should keep a low profile. We were supposed to excel in school, sure, but not to stand out because otherwise "they" would find us, even though we grew up in America, even though "they" found everyone they wanted to find in Vienna -- i.e., anyone who was even part Jewish, no matter how low a profile the
A New Journey
Dear Freud's Butcherites Friends of Freud's Butcher, As you may have noticed -- at least I hope so -- I haven't been around much lately. The short version of the reason: I'm not a very good multitasker. For many years, I've had a travel memoir on my back burner. And I finally decided to finish it and publish it after raising the money to do so through crowdfunding, a
Confessions of a Travel-Challenged Travel Writer
I have never been very good at the travel part of being a travel writer. As I've mentioned, I was primarily a travel journalist before I got a dog and became a dog writer and then found out that I was the great niece of Sigmund Freud's butcher and started this blog. That biographical tidbit wasn't especially relevant--until now, because I'm headed to Vienna. I thought
Survival in Paradise: Curaçao
Last July, when I posted an excerpt from Manfred Wolf's memoir, Survival in Paradise, I was pleased -- though not at all surprised -- by the positive response it got. It's a very moving piece about a young boy's coming of age during World War II. So I am doubly pleased to have gotten permission to post another excerpt from the book, this one from Chapter 12, when the
Found in Translation: The Mad Butcher of Berggasse
Happy 2014. So far, this year is looking promising. I woke up on the morning of Jan. 1 to a nice surprise: The notification that the first post of a new blog called Wien um die Jahrhundertwende (Vienna at the Turn of the Century) was devoted to discussing Freud's Butcher. I was pretty sure the writeup was positive. I couldn't be certain at first, however, because
Freud’s Butcher Contributor Wins Major Literary Award
I'm kvelling. My friend Lydia Davis, who is a FOFB (Friend of Freud's Butcher), just won the Man Booker International Prize. We're not talking the regular Man Booker Prize, which is prestigious enough, but a lifetime achievement award for fiction, presented once every two years. The four previous winners were Ismail Kadaré (2005), Chinua Achebe (2007), Alice Munro (2009),
Apologies — and a Challenge for German Speakers or Those Willing to Fake It
Perhaps you noticed. At least I'd like to think you did. Freud's Butcher has been out of commission for the past week. The first problem was caused by a WordPress hack that affected some 90,000 sites. It began with my site loading very sloooowly and ended in my being unable to post anything because, for security reasons, my host prevented everyone, including me, from
7 Takeaways from the Family History Writing Challenge
If Lynn Palermo, The Armchair Genealogist and host of the Family History Writing Challenge, had been able to channel my thoughts over the last 27 days, she would have heard me say some bad words. She would also have heard some philosophical mutterings, along the lines of "What does not kill you makes you strong." Today I offer aloud and in public my final summation: Thank
Grand Theft, Dog Book: A Timely Digression
Today I got together with some friends and vanquished a cyber thief. Just one, and not a major player, but it felt good. And there are morals to this story related to a writing challenge, so I'm going to tell you about about it here. A Bit of Background: 2010 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring... Except my dog, Frankie.
In Memory of a Twice-Lost Cousin, Gigi Michaels
Once upon a time -- a little more than a year ago -- I believed I had far more friends than I had family members. My parents are both long gone, and I thought my sister and my nieces were my only blood relatives. No paternal or maternal cousins were on my radar. I regretted that a bit, but never thought much about it. I figured that's how it is when you're from a family that