Unscrambling Yugoslavia, Schicksal Research

Quite often whilst writing ‘Schicksal’, I regretted not having asked questions when my parents were still alive. This seems logical now but the trauma of war silenced them.  I grew up very aware of the fact that insensitive probing would open wounds deep and barely healing. So their silence silenced me also.

The skeleton of my novel stood like a marionette, loosely hinged, far from self supporting. To do the story justice my role included creating a credible stage upon which to  play each scene.


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Schicksal and the Purple Fig

I began a journey nearly six years ago that would see me change so much that I barely recognised myself anymore. To write this memoir about my parents’ lives in Europe spanning forty years, ensured I delved firmly into the unknown. This tale came from mainly my father’s recitations forcing me to connect to the young child who viewed the world through trusting, big, brown eyes.

It was like biting into a ripe fig, full of anticipation but knowing the skin would prickle the tongue ever so slightly.

Image result for creative commons fig

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