The Bark Minder

Hi all,

It’s been a wacky busy month, like riding a roller coaster without any brakes over a cliff…

The school year finished with a bang, and then we went straight into book production. Then the family spent two days camping in Burlingame Park, huddled in our tent, dodging raindrops and hail stones. (We avoided the hail stones by packing the tent back up and heading home…)

Following the April release of “The Brothers Schlemiel” we’re releasing three more books this fall.
(Barkminder Subscribers should be able to pre-order copies as early as next month!)

The first two books are the paper-back edition of “A Hanukkah Present” and a fabulous re-edit of “The Bedtime Story Book.”

If you remember my original “Everything Bedtime Story Book” it was a wonderful monster with 100 stories for all ages. This new “Bedtime Story Book” is slimmer, with 33 stories, and focuses primarily on early and young readers and parents.

The coolest of the three forthcoming releases will be “It Ate My Sister (and other family stories)”
The cover blurb calls it “The 100% true autobiography of an award-winning writer and professional liar”

These projects are so new we don’t even have the pictures up on the web yet…

I’m also looking for help. If you live in the Washington DC area, I’m trying to book a tour in October. If you are affiliated with any organization, school, library, church, synagogue, theater, festival or whatever that might like to meet with an author/storyteller, drop me an email and I’ll send you a brochure and info packet.

Last on the list for this month… I’ve got two serials running simultaneously in two different locations:

The Council of Wise Women continues its weekly serialization in the Rhode Island Jewish Voice and Herald.
You can subscribe to it at http://www.lightpublications.com/wise
or read back installments at http://jvhri.org/archive/browse_archive.html?search_sections_29=1

Then, on July 9, I’ll be releasing a new serial called “Ellen vs. The Snakes”
It’ll be happening at the Seekonk Public Library’s Summer Camp Wiki. Every week a new installment and an audio podcast…
http://www.seekonksafaricamp.wiki.zoho.com

Have a great summer. I hope you enjoy the teasers below…
- Mark
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“Runninghead”

an excerpt from “It Ate My Sister (and other family stories)
by Mark Binder

When I was a kid we used to scare each other with stories about it. It was the kind of thing that the big kids inflicted on the little kids and the little kids inflicted on their littler brothers and sisters. Of course I heard about it from Ellen, but I also heard about it from David Kovar, who my best friend. And when my cousin Adam moved to town, he heard about it too.
Runninghead.

They said that it was the skull of a murdered jogger. They said that it ran around the track at the high school after dark on every full moon.

They also said that it was the longhaired top of a mother who had just left her babies at home for a moment and driven her car into the Canal. She went through the windshield, back in the days before safety glass, and got her spine severed in several places. Still, she had to get back to them before anything horrible happened, so she assembled the pieces as quickly as she could, leaving out part of the middle and began running.

They said it was a head with legs. They said it was a giant head on normal size legs, like one of those Easter Island statues, but without the body in between.

They said a lot of different things.

And when you were a kid, you believed a lot of those. Maybe all of them. I mean, why wouldn’t you. People were supposed to tell the truth. They weren’t supposed to make up scary stories just to scare the pants off little kids, were they?
(to be continued….)

————————

“Awake and Scream”

an excerpt from The Council of Wise Women

by Mark Binder

Our Story So Far…
Early one morning, while Sarah Cohen is meeting with the Council of Wise Women, her husband Benjamin is home alone with their two babies….

They were crying. Two voices like wailing sirens, twirling in and around each other like ivy winding up a tree. They sounded like beasts, wild animals baying at the moon.

Still half asleep, still wanting to go back to sleep, Benjamin Cohen thrust out his left arm to nudge his wife to quiet the children. His fingers flailed in the empty space where her body was supposed to be. He squinted at the half-empty bed. For a time, he was confused, but then he realized that she must already be up. He allowed himself a smile through the haze. What a good wife he had! She knew that he had his job and she had her job and that for their family to work they had to work as a team. As his father had told him, “You can have a needle without a thread and a thread without a needle, but you can’t sew without looping the thread through the needle.” Then Benjamin sighed, blinked, and relaxed.

But the crying continued. The screaming got louder. Those babies were much more difficult to deal with than he had ever imagined. Poor Sarah. It was so hard on her. Other mothers were able to cook with one infant, but with two? Almost impossible.

Perhaps he should get up and help. But if she was already up that meant that she wanted him to rest, so if he tried to help he would actually be thwarting her. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to think he didn’t appreciate the lengths she went to for his happiness and comfort.

Still those two certainly had a set of lungs. He wondered if all of Chelm was awake by now.

Benjamin stared up at the ceiling. It needed a coat of whitewash, but that was the sort of thing that could wait until after Passover — or even for another year.

It was funny, he thought, how much he had longed for a son, but now that he had both a son and a daughter, how much he longed for the peace and quiet he and Sarah had once shared.

He was about to call to her, to ask if she needed help, but a shout might be misinterpreted and he didn’t want to start another fight.

It was hard to believe that two creatures so tiny could make such a horrible racket. In his mind he began writing a letter to his cousin, Shmuel in America. What did he call himself? Oh, yes.

“Dear Sammy,

“How are you? Me, you ask? I am exhausted. Did I mention that I have twins? Yes, a boy and a girl, Yakov and Rachel. They don’t seem to need to sleep during the night. I suggested to Sarah that she wake them up during the day, but she gave me one of those looks of death. You know the ones that can curdle milk? But oy, the racket these two make! It’s like living with two roosters who can’t tell the difference between dawn and dark. Right now they sound like…”

What did they sound like? He thought for a moment and then picked up his imaginary pen.

“…like a pair of feral cats biting each other on the tails.”

And then there was quiet.

It was as if by defining the nature of the sound, by his actually capturing the essence of the din in language, he had managed to give it full expression, so that now silence crept through the house.

Perfect unbroken silence.

(to be continued….)

What’s on my iMind?

Let’s talk about the fear. Let’s talk about the rattling noise that all the air conditioners and fans around the country are doing trying to keep the heat out, trying to keep the fear away.

Let’s talk about the dying of a civilization. Let’s talk about the pixels dancing across the screen in futile energy, potential energy, impotent energy — gasping and dying to aspire to what? Print? Reality? Impact? Lifelikeness?

Let’s talk about global warming, about ice caps melting and polar bears sinking in coca cola nightmares
Let’s talk about burning the last gallon of oil and then the darkness that follows
Let’s talk about crops that are never harvested, about people scavenging for food, fighting to death over that last tin of SPAM lunch meat, and meanwhile make an ironic joke about Monty Pythonic vikings.

Let’s skip the whole bird flu thing. It’s so last year.
Terrorism. Feh. Just a flash in the pan, a ploy to drive up the fear but not actually something worth more than a momentary worry.
Let’s talk about the uneducated masses who have never and will never have a job with benefits, who know how to play video games with the skill of Air Force fighter pilots, who know a guy who can get them a Glock (or whatever the firearm du-jour is), who have access to fine kind weed and chemicals that make the mind skip and hop and every video ever made on the planet, you wanna see the one where my best friend’s sister does something really sick and twisted?

Let’s talk about the middle class huddled in their single family homes wondering if they should answer the door. Is that really a Fedex delivery from Amazon or is it a psycho with a long sharp machete? There was an article about copycat serial killers in the New York Times. And the price of fuel oil is through the roof, good thing we already own so many sweaters. What will the poor people in Westchester county do to keep warm this winter?

Let’s talk about the dead babies. Thousands and thousands of dead babies. Not a dead baby joke among them.

Let’s talk about the role of the artist, the role of the writer, poking fun, shining a mirror a flashlight of truth and knowing that it will make not one jot, not one pixel of difference.

Let’s talk about the economy. Never mind. Let’s not. Let’s not think about the falling job market, the rise in inflation, the devaluation of the dollar, the scarcity of product and resources and the abundance of distribution. Let’s not talk about the For Rent signs in shop windows and the multiplicity of product available online if you buy now with free shipping or overnight for a bit more.

Let’s not talk about China. Not even the Olympics.

Let’s not talk about food, about what we’re going to eat. About the lack of quality organic meat at a reasonable price at the scarcity of salmon ever since the oceans dried up and the Chilean stock developed skin disease. Let’s not talk about the cost of wheat since the bad harvests in North Dakota and Australia and the shift in production from corn to soy to ethanol to dust bowl. Let’s not talk about local rivers and lakes fished bare by starving vacationers looking for relaxation but ending up with a true wilderness experience.

Let’s not talk about bad sex. About weird sex. Let’s just leave the whole sex thing out of it because that in itself is just too strange.

Let’s talk about the heat of the sun, the burning of the UV the cancers of the skin the frying of eggs on the sidewalk (which actually works and saves energy, if only we could figure out how to make the sidewalks non-stick…)

Let’s not talk about…

What? Oh. Sorry. I thought you were asking my opinion. No, it’s ok. I don’t have to keep going. Once I get started I tend to get depressing real fast. These are just a few of the things on my mind.

What’s on yours?

It makes perfect sense…

“The best model out there in business is ‘omakase.’ … You sit down and the chef looks at you, looks at your skin color, looks at your wallet a bit, and says ah-hah, I have the perfect meal for you. And they make a meal for you. And that’s it. This kind of way of … doing business, dealing with people, this has to be the way things should be. If you think too much about your interactions, it’s too friction heavy.”
– John Maeda, Incoming President of RISD

The latest three star restaurant in the NY Times, Momofuku Ko, uses it…

The question is how to deliver it in the world that I travel in. Or more to the point, how to “qualify” the leads in such a way that omakase shows up.

John Maeda’s description strikes me as delightful, but so much of the initial contact in my “business” is over the phone… So how do I establish those criteria?

Skin color is such a telling description. I find stories that work in an inner city environment are often too edgy for those in the ‘burbs. For some folk, money is no object. Some folk need a very detailed description of exactly what they are going to get — and for them Omakase ain’t going to cut it.

Food for though…

This week marks the premier of “The Council of Wise Women” my new novel of Chelm!
It will be serialized ongoingly in the Rhode Island Jewish Voice and Herald, and via email subscription.

 

 The Council of Wise Women Episode 01: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

If the podcast link above doesn’t work, click here: http://www.markbinder.com/audio/council/council_chapter_01.mp3

After the “words from our sponsor” you can read the first installment.

You can subscribe for free (for a limited time only…) at http://www.lightpublications.com/wise/
You can also invite friends and family (or even enemies) to subscribe)

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Words from our sponsor
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“If you have a youngster in school, I highly recommend Mark Binder for your end of year celebration! He brings energy and enthusiasm and stories that brighten up even the cloudiest day. You can contact him online at his website”
- Beth Hellman

——————
Get Mark’s first serialized novel of Chelm, “The Brothers Schlemiel”
The story of Abraham and Adam, identical twins born in Chelm and confused from birth. Mark says it’s a cross between the Brothers Grimm, the Brothers Karamazov, and the Brothers Farrely.

Now available in a beautiful hardback edition

You may order copies online at at Amazon.Com - at http://tinyurl.com/3bgplb

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The World’s Best Challah Special expires on Friday, May 9

If you’ve never eaten “The World’s Best Challah” then you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s delicious plain, with butter, toasted, or as French Toast. It makes great sandwiches, and if you let it sit around long enough and put shellac on it, you can use it as a door stop.

The book is a 70 page cookbook that tells you everything from how to make 3, 4 and 6 braids, what equipment to buy, and how to bake on a busy schedule.

The offer expires May 9 because postage goes up right after that.
(Plus, if you order within the next 72 hours, I’ll include a free bookmark!)

Read more at http://www.markbinder.com/specials/
Or to buy now just click here: http://tinyurl.com/6h9aj3

Thanks!
—————————————–

The Council of Wise Women

by Mark Binder

Chapter 1
“First Born”

Her eyes were beautiful. They were brown and inquisitive. Open already and looking at the new world.

Her mother, Sarah Cohen, was exhausted. Childbirth hadn’t been as difficult as her mother had warned, but it had been labor. Long and painful, but with this delightful girl at the end nestled warm in her arms.

“Not again!” the midwife said.

Her words sounded worried. Sarah looked up from the babe. “Is everything all right?”

“Perfectly,” said Mrs. Chaipul. She patted Sarah’s hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Where is your husband?”

“He said he was going to Smyrna to buy some cloth. He should be back at any time.”

Mrs. Chaipul shook her head and clucked her tongue. What was it about the men of Chelm? Perhaps it was everywhere. Men always seemed to know and have appointments in other parts of the world when their wives were giving birth.

“Do you mind holding her?” Mrs. Chaipul said.

Sarah smiled. “Not at all.”

“Because we’re not done.”

Again Sarah felt nervous. “What do you mean?”

“Twins,” Mrs. Chaipul said. “A double blessing. It’s all right. I have plenty of experience. Just follow my directions and begin pushing again.”

Twins? Sarah’s mind began to spin. She was ready for one child. She was ready for a daughter. But another? Two mouths to feed? She remembered what happened to Rebecca Schlemiel after her boys were born. The fighting the arguing, the confusion… The exhaustion. It was crazy. It was impossible. No. It was a dream. Perhaps she was asleep even now.

Then she looked at the girl in her arms. The baby’s brown eyes were staring at her with hope and love and curiosity.

It would be a shame to wake up from the dream and leave behind a beautiful soul like this.

She felt something moving.

“When would you like me to push?” Sarah asked.

“Now would be nice!”

* * *

The door to the Cohen house slammed open as Benjamin Cohen ran inside.

“Shut the door!” Mrs. Chaipul shouted. “It’s still winter time and the cold won’t do anyone any good.”

The panting tailor shut the door behind him. “Are they all right?”

Mrs. Chaipul nodded. “Everyone is fine.

Benjamin gave her a grin and a hug. He reached for the knob to the bedroom door, and then he stopped. “How many fingers and toes?”

Mrs. Chaipul calculated for a moment and then answered, “A hundred.”

“A hundred!” Benjamin smiled. Then he paused. “What?”

Mrs. Chaipul nodded. “I assume you have all of yours, and Sarah has all of hers.”

“Yes,” Benjamin said. “Yes.”

The old woman shrugged and sipped her tea. “I have all of mine.”

Benjamin’s face knitted into a frown. “That’s twenty extra.”

“It is.”

“I don’t understand.” Benjamin was imagining what a hand was like with five extra fingers. A foot with five extra toes would need a specially made shoe. Were the fingers and toes on the same arms and legs or were there extra arms and legs? “I thought you said that everyone was all right!”

The exhausted midwife spooned more sugar into her tea. “They are. If you made it your business to be here on time, instead of gallivanting around you would understand and I wouldn’t have to explain everything to you.”

Benjamin put his hands on his hips. Mrs. Chaipul was a rather important woman in Chelm, but she was still just a woman. Yes she ran the only kosher restaurant. Yes she was the closest thing the village had to a doctor, veterinarian and midwife. Yes, she and the rabbi seemed to be engaged in negotiations for marriage. But still. This was no way to treat him in his own house on the afternoon of the birth of his first child.

“Tell me woman,” he demanded, “what is going on?”

Mrs. Chaipul peered at Benjamin. She shook her spoon at him. “You need to learn more manners. And you owe me an extra chicken.”

Such insults and insolence, Benjamin could barely restrain himself. Enough talking with this foolish woman.

He opened the door and marched into his bedroom.

The sudden noise and draft startled Sarah, who was dozing. She looked up, “Benjamin?”

“It’s me,” he said. The room was dark. “Ow!” He banged his knee against a chair that shouldn’t be there. “Ow ow ow!”

“Are you all right?” Sarah asked.

“I’m fine.” He rubbed his leg. “How are you?”

“I’m tired. I’m exhausted. But I’m fine.”

“And the child?” he asked. He hated asking. He was afraid to ask. What was the point of hiring a midwife if she couldn’t give you a simple answer to a simple question?

“They’re fine,” Sarah said.

He was closer now, and he could see the smile on her face. She looked pale, but so wonderful.

“They?” he said.

A nod. “A boy and a girl.”

“Really?” he said in amazement.

Sarah stared at her husband. “You think I’d make something like this up? You think I’d lie at a time like this? You think that you wouldn’t figure it out in a moment or two?”

“No,” he said. Why was everyone picking on him? “I’m just surprised.”

“Me too,” Sarah said. “So are they.”

“Who was born first?”

Sarah glanced to her left. “She was.”

Benjamin frowned. “Really? Let’s tell everyone that he was.”

“Why?”

“Because being first born is important to a boy.”

“I don’t understand.”

Benjamin nodded. “You’re not a boy.” Benjamin was the third son in a family of seven children. He knew how much his brothers had lorded that difference over him. “We’ll tell everyone that he was born first. It’s important. It’s crucial.”

“It’s not such a big deal.”

Benjamin frowned. “Have you ever been held upside down by your ankles over a cesspool?”

“No!” Sarah said. “Are you threatening me?”

“Not at all!” Benjamin answered quickly. “I have been. By my older brothers.”

“They were so cruel to you.”

“They were bigger and older,” Benjamin explained. “It’s the way of the world.”

“She’s only older by a few minutes,” Sarah said.

“Minutes matter.” Benjamin was firm about it. “So, we’ll tell them that he was born first. We’ll tell Mrs. Chaipul. She’ll have to agree.”

“All right,” Sarah answered weakly.

“May I pick him up?”

“Yes, of course.” She felt the weight lift from her right side.

“He’s handsome.”

The exhausted mother smiled. “Yes, he is.”

“I have a son!” Benjamin Cohen said proudly.

“And a daughter,” Sarah Cohen added.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Benjamin reached out a finger and touched his daughter’s cheek. “A daughter as well. But a son! Think of that. A son!”

Sarah Cohen loved her husband but for a moment she felt her heart breaking and she hated him.

“Give him back to me,” she demanded.

“Why?”

“He’s hungry. We’re tired. We need some rest. Go to work.”

Benjamin surrendered the boy. He didn’t notice the curt tone of his wife’s voice. A son was something to be proud of.

He turned and “Ow!” Who put that chair there!

When she heard the door close, Sarah Cohen hugged her children tightly, but gently.

“You are both mine,” she whispered. “You are both important.”

Next Episode: Cry Me a River
—————-

Copyright 2008 by Mark Binder
All Rights Reserved

—————-
Thanks for reading.
If you enjoyed “The Council” you will also enjoy other work by Mark Binder.
Learn more about Mark’s books and audio recordings at http://www.markbinder.com/store/

I have to write a new bio about once a month. This is a royal pain in the beehive (as my son once put it).

This is an 80 word bio for the CAJE conference

Eighty words?
Born in Massachusetts, Mark’s lived in Texas, New Jersey, London, Chelm, NYC and now Providence. He’s been married twenty years already. He likes people of all generations and flavors, teaches and practices Aikido, and bakes challah or pizza almost every week.  From Columbia University, he got a BA in mythology. Mark is a regular contributor to The Forward, National Jewish Book Award finalist. His novel, The Brothers Schlemiel was published by JPS in April. He hates writing bios.

I was recently browsing around my computer looking for lost files when I discovered a cycle of stories I did a number of years ago for a performance at the RISD Museum.

I had been invited to give a session on a Thursday Gallery Night in the 20th Century rooms. After spending some time looking at the paintings, I wrote a cycle of three stories about three of the paintings on the walls. They were works of fiction based on the titles, some of the historical background and the painters of the work.

You can read them at http://www.markbinder.com/risd/
Also, my story, “The Question Is Answered” was posted on the RI Jewish Voice and Herald website at http://jvhri.org/stories/195.html

This story shows two pieces of art — the current cover of the novel, “The Brothers Schlemiel” illustrated by Zevi Blum, and “The Blue House” by Marc Chagal, which was licensed by Light Publications for the release of the audio book, “The Brothers Schlemiel from birth to bar mitzvah”

Enjoy!

Happy spring!

Finally it seems warm and sunny — and then 10 minutes later the clouds come out and it gets cool. Welcome to New England, where if you don’t like the weather, just wait a minute.

This has been an exciting month for me. After years of being a “wannabe” novelist. I’m now a 100% official novelist!
(whoo hoo!)

If you live in Rhode Island, you’ll be picking up a copy of my favorite Passover story from the novel “The Brothers Schlemiel” on April 18 If you don’t and you’d like to get one via email, please subscribe to my mailing list. (or check back here after the 18th.)

In the meantime, I’m posting the audio version online for those of you who like to podcast…

 

 The Passover Question: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

(And if that doesn’t work… http://www.markbinder.com/audio/the_passover_question.mp3)

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BarkMinder Subscriber Special!
——————————————–
I know, I know… You’re not supposed to eat bread during Passover, but that doesn’t mean you can’t dream about it…

To celebrate the post-holiday bread binge, I’m offering copies of “The World’s Best Challah” for only $5 (plus $2.50 shipping and handling). The book was initially priced at $11.95, so you’re getting it for better than half price.

If you’ve never eaten “The World’s Best Challah” then you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s delicious plain, with butter, toasted, or as French Toast. It makes great sandwiches, and if you let it sit around long enough and put shellac on it, you can use it as a door stop.

The book is a 70 page cookbook that tells you everything from how to make 3, 4 and 6 braids, what equipment to buy, and how to bake on a busy schedule.

The offer expires May 9 because postage goes up right after that.
(Plus, if you order within the next 72 hours, I’ll include a free bookmark!)

Read more at http://www.markbinder.com/specials/
Or just click here: http://tinyurl.com/6h9aj3

———————————————————
The Future of the Printed Page (continued)
———————————————————
We just got iPhones. (Yeah, yeah, they’re cool — but even cooler, we got it on sale!) It’s nifty to have both my calendar and phone in the same place. It saves running around the house looking for two things when I’m on the way out the door.

What’s radical is how much it changes your relationship to “information” and the environment, as well as how you spend your downtime…

On the first warm day after the winter, I dragged my daughter out for a walk around our neighborhood. We were having a conversation about the difference between a “tree” and a “shrub” — so I did a search on “Define shrub” and zoop! We answered the question. Then we looked up some of the flowers we were seeing and learned more about them. For instance, holly isn’t one particular kind of a plant — it’s a weird bunch of plants that seem to have no relationship except the name.

This immediate and detailed connection to the knowledge of the world is amazing. It didn’t diminish our walk, but enhanced it greatly. Now we could have been carrying a dictionary and a plant book and found out the same things, but how many times have you wanted to lug those with you to walk a mile or two?

I also find myself taking pictures. Now I know that many of you have had camera phones for years, but for me this is very new. Although I have a great memory for stories, I often can’t remember details. I’ve found that the pictures call back to my mind the story much more vividly than just trying to remember what happened.

Also, there’s a youtube button right on the phone. This means that you have instant (or sometimes incredibly slow) access to billions of hours of time-wasting (or interesting) video. No need to be bored. Want to watch Obama’s speech on race… Look it up.

In the past few weeks, the New York Times has gotten skinnier (physically) and the Providence Journal has increased its subscription price by 50%. My sweetheart recently got a letter at her office that said they were unable to NOT deliver the newspaper on Saturday and Sunday anymore… What’s that about? They can’t manage telling the newspaper delivery guy/gal not to show up? Or is it just that they’re forcing their Sunday subscription numbers up artificially…

Reading on the iPhone is a trial. It’s not made for 40+year old eyes. It doesn’t give me a headache, but I do squint. However within the next few years as screens get better…

Last week I was in New Milford, CT and spent some time in a bed and breakfast connected with cable and DVD player. The best stuff I saw was downloaded from their high speed internet.

It seems foolish to try and fight the coming technological change. I certainly hope that my books will be in print for years to come, but in the meantime, I’m planning on releasing “The Council of Wise Women” — my forthcoming serial — in both an eamil and an iPhone compatible version.
(You can sign up for a complimentary trial email subscription at http://www.lightpublications.com/wise/ — it starts in May)

I’m also looking forward to podcasting the upcoming audio version of “The Brothers Schlemiel”

Personally, I hope that newspapers are going to be around for a long time. I love the look and feel and the permanence of them — at least until I use them to start the fire in the fireplace…

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Looking for sponsors
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Have you ever wanted to feel like a Medici? It’s easy to become a patron of the arts.
We are looking for financial sponsors for the Audio version of the Brothers Schlemiel.
We need at least $10,000 to make this thing fly.
Our goal is to find 100 sponsors of $100 or more to create an awesome audio book.
This isn’t a tax-deductible contribution. On the other hand there is no administrative overhead, grant-writing or government intervention.
What will you receive? (Aside from the satisfaction of helping to finance a piece of art…)
- An autographed CD or DVD copy of the completed audio book
- An invitation to the release party
- Acknowledgement in the work itself
- And much much more.

To sign up, you can send a check of $100 (or $1000 or $10,000….) to:
Light Publications, Audio Medici Project, PO Box 2462, Providence, RI 02906
You can also paypal your contribution to orders@lightpublications.com

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MARK’S TOUR CALENDAR
The Brothers Schlemiel - Book Signings and more
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It’s so official. The book is out (Looks and feels great) and it’s even got a teacher’s guide!
Written by my good friend, Beth Hellman, it’s sure to become a classroom classic.
(http://www.jewishpub.org/pdf/broschteachersguide.pdf)

If I’m not doing a signing in your neighborhood, then please ask your bookstore, school or synagogue to call me!

Saturday, 4/12 at 1 to 3pm ‘Brothers Schlemiel Book Reading Signing’ at A Novel Idea, Bristol, RI
Thursday, 4/24 at 7pm ‘Brothers Schlemiel Book Signing’ at Books on the Square, Providence, RI
Saturday, 4/26 at 2pm ‘Stories that Rock’ at the New England Folk Festival, Mansfield, MA
Sunday, 4/27 at 12:30 ‘Hope for the Earthday’ at Miriam Hospital - Lifespan, Providence, RI
Sunday, 4/27 at 2 pm ‘Brothers Schlemiel Book Signing’ at Barrington Books, Barrington, RI
Tuesday, 5/20 at 9 am and 9:45 am ‘Silly Stories’ at Woodville School, Wakefield, MA
Sunday, 5/18 at 10 am to noon ‘The Art of Peace’ at Congregation B’Nai Shalom, Westborough, MA

You can also order copies of the Brothers Schlemiel online at:
http://www.jewishpub.org/product.php?isbn=9780827608658
or at http://tinyurl.com/3bgplb

Enjoy the weather.
- Mark
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_______________________________________________
The Bark Minder is written by Mark Binder
Pembroke Villa, PO Box 2462, Providence, RI 02906

For information about books, audio and performances, please visit http://www.markbinder.com

As you may know, I bake a lot of bread. My brother constantly calls me for advice. Recently I got this cryptic email:

Subject: Send me the steps for baking
Body: Bread please. For some reason, they’ve disappeared from my counter. Ug.

This is my answer. The 20 steps to perfect bread (more or less).

Improvisational Bread Recipe

1) Add flour
2) Add yeast (1 tsp per 2 cups of water)
3) Stir
4) Add water
5) Stir
6) Add more flour
7) Add salt (roughly 1 tsp per cup of water)
8) Knead
9) Keep kneading and adding flour until dough is smooth and silky. The amount of flour will depend on the humidity of the day and how moist you like your bread
10) Let rise until doubled — an hour, more or less — it can go longer or shorter depending on your schedule.
11) Beat down like a red-headed stepchild
12) Shape
13) Rise again — again until doubledish
14) Preheat oven to 500 degrees (If you have a pizza stone, but it in before this)
15) Turn down oven to 425 and throw ice on the floor of the oven to create steam
16) Slash the top of bread with deep cuts like a serial killer toying with the face of his victim
17) Shove bread into the oven.
18) Bake until done (190 to 210 degrees F internal temp.)
19) Eat while warm.
20) Don’t put it in a plastic bag because it will ruin the crust

Every week at the Tamarisk assisted living center, Susan Adler hosts a live interview program called, “The View with Sue.” Imagine a cozy dining room table, set for tea, with two microphones and an audience of eager listeners.

Last week, (Thursday, March 20 to be specific,) I was a guest, and had a great time. We talked about my new book, “The Brothers Schlemiel,” and meandered down interesting lanes of my personal history and views on non-violence, politics and the war.

 

 Mark Binder on The View With Sue - March 20, 2008: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Note: If the above link doesn’t work, then please listen here: The View With Sue

Happy Purim. Happy Easter. Happy whatever holiday you choose to celebrate (or not).

My novel, “The Brothers Schlemiel” has finally shipped! It looks awesome. I got a call from my Dad saying I’d won the Nobel Prize. (Which may be a bit premature.) If there’s a place near you that would like an author signing, please let me know. (http://tinyurl.com/3bgplb)

It’s been a busy few months. Below you’ll find a short story excerpt from “The Council of Wise Women” which is the new serial I’ve been working on. This story is actually from the middle of the serial, but you’re welcome to start at the beginning. We’re giving away free trial subscriptions at (http://lightpublications.com/wise/)

That’s about it for now. Enjoy the story.
- Mark

Dressing Up: A Short Story

By Mark Binder
Copyright 2008 by Mark Binder. All rights reserved

(Published in The Forward 3/21/08 - http://www.forward.com/articles/12897/)

Every year the villagers of Chelm held a Purim parade and it caused trouble for months. Many people around the world consider the Chelmener to be fools, but they are not. They are, however, very specific and honest. So, when you dress them up in different costumes, they often become frightened and confused. One year the entire yeshiva class dressed as Mordechai and they very nearly got into a fistfight about which Mordechai should have the honor of riding Haman’s horse.

Rabbi Kibbitz, the wisest man in Chelm, had seriously considered canceling the parade, but as in most communities, it is easier to start a tradition than to stop one.

Instead, he declared that only children between the ages of 5 and 7 would be permitted to march. Not only did this make the parade safer, it made it cuter. (There had always been something unsettling about seeing Reb Cantor the merchant shimmying down the street dressed as Queen Vashti…) In the Cohen house, this was good news and bad news.

Rachel and Yakov Cohen had turned 5 a few weeks before the holiday, which meant that at last they were eligible.

However, their father, Benjamin Cohen, was the best (and only) tailor in Chelm, which meant that their costumes had to be more than a pinned up sheet and a false beard.

The twins’ costumes had to be magnificent. If they were anything less, Reb Cohen reasoned, it would reflect badly on his abilities as a clothier.

His wife, Sarah, had offered to make the children’s outfits, but he declined.

“How would that look if I let you do the work?” Benjamin said.

Sarah thought about that for a moment. “Are you questioning my abilities?”

“Not at all,” he reassured her. “You bake the best strudel, you keep the house clean. You are a wonderful mother. I, however, am a professional. Cutting and sewing is what I do all day long.”

Again, Sarah waited before she spoke. “You’re very good with men’s clothes,” she admitted. “But designing a dress for a queen… I don’t know if you can do that.”

Benjamin knew a challenge when he heard one. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do a fabulous dress and you do the suit. But you have to make me proud.”

“Done,” Sarah agreed. They shook hands on the bargain.

Reb Cohen slapped the table. “Now, who wants to be Mordechai?”

“I do! I do!” said Rachel, looking up from her reading.

Her father smiled at her. “Nonsense. You’re a girl.”

“Papa, it’s a costume parade. We are supposed to dress up as someone who we are not. I am not Mordechai, but I would like to be. Mordechai was kind and patient and wise. Those are good qualities, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes,” Reb Cohen said. “But your mother and I have agreed that I will make the dress and she will make the suit. Don’t you want me to make you a beautiful dress?”

Rachel shook her head. “Not really. I have plenty of dresses already, but I don’t have a nice suit.”

Just then Yakov looked up from the drawing of a goat he was making with a stick of charcoal on the wall. (You should know that Yakov loved to draw so much that his parents had given him a portion of the wall to devote to his art. Every few months the wall was washed and repainted.)

“Papa, I’ll wear the dress,” Yakov said. “I want to be Esther.”

“But you’re a boy!” Reb Cohen sputtered.

“Esther was brave,” Yakov said. “And you always tell me I should be brave.”

“But brave as a boy, not as a girl,” said their father. “And wise as a girl, not as a man.”

The children looked at each other and then at their father. “Papa,” they said together, “it’s just a costume.”

“Besides,” Yakov said. “I don’t have any dresses.”

Benjamin Cohen winced. He looked at his wife for support, but she was covering her mouth with laughter.

So it happened that Sarah Cohen spent her days learning how to make a man’s suit for her daughter, and Benjamin Cohen spent his evenings trying to make a wedding dress for his son.

They did it in secret. Neither was willing to concede to the other that he or she was a better clothing designer.

It wasn’t until the morning of the Purim parade that their efforts were revealed.

Reb Cohen was eating his breakfast of hamentashen and eggs when there was a knock at the door.

He opened the door and looked down to see that Rabbi Yohan Abrahms had shrunk in half. The schoolteacher had been the tallest man in the village, but now he was probably the shortest. And strangest of all, he was wearing a gorgeous white and purple suit that fit perfectly his miniature size.

Reb Cohen gasped. “Rabbi Abrahms, what happened? Did you get stepped on by an elephant?”

“It is I, Mordechai,” the diminutive schoolteacher’s voice squeaked. “Do you have any hamentashen?”

At first this puzzled Reb Cohen, because Rabbi Abrahms’s first name was Yohan. Then he remembered what day it was.

“Doodle,” he said. “That is a great costume.”

Just then the beard was pulled from the young child’s face. “Papa, it’s me!”

Again the tailor gasped as his daughter hugged him and ran into the house.

“Didn’t Mama make me a wonderful suit? I sneaked out this morning to surprise you. Mama! Mama! It worked!”

Just then, Reb Cohen’s wife walked into the room wearing the dress she had worn at their wedding. Her face was veiled and she looked as lovely as she had on the blessed day they were wed. But she too had shrunk.

The poor man covered his mouth in horror, and then yanked at his hair as his son lifted the veil and said, “Papa, don’t I look beautiful?”

“Ack! Ack!” Benjamin Cohen sputtered.

Sarah Cohen stepped from the bedroom, poured him a glass of water and waited until he’d drunk it all down.

“I think,” she said, “that our contest was a tie.”

“Agreed,” Benjamin said, once he had come to his senses. “But isn’t there something wrong with our boy dressed as a girl and our girl dressed as a boy?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. If Yakov wanted to dress as Haman, and Rachel wanted to dress as Vashti, would that be wrong?”

Benjamin shrugged. “Of course not.”

“Exactly. It is just pretend. Haman is wicked and Vashti is vain, but they are only costumes. And you know that when they take off the costumes they again become Rachel and Yakov.”

Indeed, Benjamin could see that with the false beard and veil removed, his children were already fighting and arguing as usual.

“So be it,” the tailor conceded with a sigh. For that, his wife gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He was also pleasantly surprised that the day after Purim he had three orders for new white and purple suits, and his first ever commission for a wedding dress.

THE END

BIO: Mark Binder is an author, storyteller and nice guy. His collection, “A Hanukkah Present” was named as a finalist for the National Jewish Book Award for Family Literature. His novel, “The Brothers Schlemiel” (about a different set of twins), is being published by the Jewish Publication Society. This story is an excerpt from his serial “The Council of Wise Women.”