The evolvement of a book

A short description of how I've written my first ever book.

 

 

At the beginning of the 80s of the previous century I've written a collection of short stories, which were dedicated to the world of art in my country.

Although these short stories were my very early creation, which have been defined by me as imperfect; I aspired to have it published and I roamed between our prominent publishing houses, with the hope to reach my goal and have it published.

In one of  the meetings that I had with a publishing house owner and editor I sat facing the owner of a Tel Aviv publishing house, and the latter told me that a collection of short stories would not sell. A week later while browsing the literary supplement of a certain newspaper, I read a short item about the publishing of an anthology of short stories by that same publishing house. You can imagine the amount of frustration I was assaulted with, after having read this item.

But as I was rejected in all the other publishing houses that I have visited, I have decided to find another way of promoting my content and reaching my goal to be a published author.

A year later I have turned to the same publishing house with a request to become one of its freelance translators, and I was accepted by the publishing house owner's wife.

I have written a short story following the murder of a Hebrew University lecturer, which was not solved at that time. The story described the events of that period of time of the riots in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, and with the intention to provide food of thought to those that investigated that murder. I worked as mentioned above as a freelance translator at this publishing house in Tel Aviv, with the intention to get in touch with the influential personalities in our literary world.

Once a month or six weeks depends on the number of the translated book's pages, I used to visit the publishing house with the translated book and file; to meet the owner's wife that was my direct employer, we used to chat some fifteen minutes she is a very wise woman, and then I would take the next book that I was supposed to translate and bade her goodbye.

After I have completed the short story about the Hebrew University lecturer murder I have brought it with me, and introduced it to her.

There were some very hard to bear expressions in this short story, and I remember how she stood up and walked from wall to wall reading it. She was very moved and excited, as the short story included expressions such as "the Shabac blood thirsty hounds" and some other disgraceful literary expressions describing us the Israelis; as the story related the thoughts of a Palestinian Arab, and was told through his point of view.

My employer finished to read it and advised me to make a book out of it. I left her deeply disappointed, as I hoped that she would include it in one of their anthologies of several authors;  and I remember how all along the drive back home I was impressed by her diplomatic way to avoid being involved with a too harsh short story according to her judgment. It took me a day or two to conclude that I had better refer to it in a positive way of thinking, and do what she advised me to do.

The problem was how am I going to do it? As the end the short story included in fact the end of the plot.

Thus the first chapter of the book was the short story itself with a few needed changes at its end. The second chapter described the protagonist's hesitation, his inner struggle, which such a mission (murder) could evoke.

Why was he chosen to execute it? Would he succeed at all? How would he cope with his mother, which had such a dominant part in his life? How would he explain to her that she might not see him again if he would succeed, or she would have to visit him in jail if he would fail?

The third chapter was the break-through; I have intertwined in its text  flashback paragraphs that described the full briefing that the protagonist had received for this mission; while there was no need to describe the briefing in full detail in the short story.

Well that was it, after having overcome that hurdle; I had no trouble at all to complete the entire plot.

Below is a paragraph of my short story that turned into the first chapter of my book 'The death sciences'.

It took a few seconds to some of my friends and acquaintances to realize that the harsh expressions are in fact praise to our internal intelligence service, and its terror preventive activities.

Here is short paragraph my book's 'The death sciences' first chapter.

 

The youth made his way through the crowded tables in quick long strides, pale and anxious. Most of the guests were foreigners, light haired tourists who kept babbling enthusiastically in their strange language. Sitting on the low and uncomfortable stools and bursting out from time to time in roaring laughter; the slight inconvenience did hardly wane their enthusiasm.

The youth own compatriots on the other hand, were watching him with suspicious and hostile glances. He had never been in that neighborhood before, thus the insecurity that was marked clearly on his pale face, was quite comprehensible. He wasn’t a known figure in that remote quarter and there were too many informers, turncoats and other black souls in those somber days! What’s worse the Shabac’s (the Israeli counter intelligence) blood thirsty hounds mingled in their communities, as if they were born and bred among them; and there were hardly any possible ways or means to point them out, so well they were dug in their midst…

© Haim Kadman December 2012 " all rights reserved.