As I have been doing research and preliminary writing for my next book, I remembered the last book that I was writing before my recent publication of Two Papas – a tale of Impossible Holocaust Survival. That earlier project was shelved for the Holocaust trilogy but I still consider it a viable work in progress.

Reading what I have already written, it struck me that my words are extremely personal rather than historical or fictional. Recently I observed in this medium that very few published books attain commercial success. If you have a name like Grisham or Brokaw or Gates, you are essentially guaranteed to sell many books. But very few of us have that status, making our work destined to be in the realm of the undiscovered.

If I had any doubt about the value of that status, I watched with interest an interview on a television show of a best-selling author. He was quite explicit that he wrote for himself, not for the audience that he expected to read his work. Do authors truly seek to attain fame and fortune? Quite honestly, I have never sought either. That reality takes us back to my opening point, that of the work that we create being altogether personal.

The book to which I referred is half-finished and as has been the case with other work, it begins to take on a life of its own. For now, I will continue working on it when I have either motivation or revelation. My heart remains with the Holocaust trilogy. But I suggest to my readers that whatever you do, do it for yourself.

Your medium may be the written word, oil painting, sculpture, dress design, or any other creative endeavor. With all my heart, I suggest that you continue doing that work, for your own satisfaction. It comes from you and reflects you. If the public seeks to possess it any way, so much the better. As for me, I will fill the pages with characters, thoughts, reflections, and hopes – all for my own creative muse. Anything beyond that is a gift. Shalom.

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