Nowadays, many writers have blogs in which they express their hopes, dreams and frustration.
I once read about a writer who didn't want to use the blog to rant about her supposed lack of inspiration, or her wonderful exploits of that day - "Got in 20.000 words".
Instead, she decided to use the space for sharing interesting tidbits she had come across during her research. Often the information was too much to blend into the book, but she knew her readers would appreciate the extra background information.
I thought this was a great idea, and decided to follow suit - in English and in Dutch. (There's a seperate Dutch blog now.)
Thus, from now on this blog will be used to share the extra's, interesting information I've stumbled upon while researching either an article, or in preparation for my latest book.
Feel free to leave your comment!
Monday, 17 November 2008
Monday, 28 April 2008
"Levonah" - the Caper
(This is an expert of my latest book about Huram-Avi and Solomon's Temple)
Zebudah and Huram enjoyed Jerusalem’s evening coolness.
“You’re not cold?” Zebudah worriedly tightened the shawl around Huram’s shoulders. He looked tired and drawn. She gently pressed the limp hand resting in his lap.
With closed eyes Huram leaned his head against the still warm stones of the courtyard, smiled, and shook his head. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” He sniffed the air. “What’s that fragrance?”
Zebudah walked to a shrub growing from a crack in the wall. “The levonah is blooming tonight.”
With her fingers she caressed the flower’s long swirl of purple stamens, careful not to touch the hooked spines at the base of their leafy stalks. Slowly, before Zebudah’s eyes more flowers opened their four white-pinkish, delicate petals, exposing their abundant stamens. The courtyard filled with their sweet fragrance, enticing the night insects to visit them.
“Oh, Zebudah!” Huram sighed, content.
Zebudah and Huram enjoyed Jerusalem’s evening coolness.
“You’re not cold?” Zebudah worriedly tightened the shawl around Huram’s shoulders. He looked tired and drawn. She gently pressed the limp hand resting in his lap.
With closed eyes Huram leaned his head against the still warm stones of the courtyard, smiled, and shook his head. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” He sniffed the air. “What’s that fragrance?”

With her fingers she caressed the flower’s long swirl of purple stamens, careful not to touch the hooked spines at the base of their leafy stalks. Slowly, before Zebudah’s eyes more flowers opened their four white-pinkish, delicate petals, exposing their abundant stamens. The courtyard filled with their sweet fragrance, enticing the night insects to visit them.
“Oh, Zebudah!” Huram sighed, content.
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