Thursday, September 8, 2016

Fine art of writing beyond romance or historical fiction

Skadi Winter is the author of HEXE,  the story of young girl, born during the coldest winter people could remember in a remote German village shortly after WWII. I am deeply touched by her review of my WWII romance novel, Dancing with Air:


on August 19, 2016
Dancing with Air (Still Life with Memories Book 4)
Having read all the the reviews for this book, what can I add? 'Dancing with Air' - the title - the author's filigrane, artistic poetry shining through, leading the reader to yet another story of enchantment turning into a boundless and ceaseless passionate involvement of Lenny and Natasha, the protagonists who fascinate and, at the same time, touch my heart so intensely it hurts. Alzheimer's disease, one of the most frightening plagues of our time, the 'black void that is gaping'. What will remain for those who are left out, who are left behind? The well researched historical background of the story was not what intrigued me; it was the most sensible insight into the souls and hearts of Lenny and Natasha, facing their amour, their romance, turning into boundless and ceaseless passionate involvement over time, such diminishing war, secret missions, a gifted concert pianist entertaining troops overseas, a combination of slaughter and annihilation called war, into a poignant story of "love is the only thing that prevails". When, one day, Lenny wanted to tell his son about all the adventures of his life, the son answers rather brusque: " Sounds like a long winded story!" Well, it is not. It is the story of "In a flash, fear tightened its grip on me, fear, that despite our love, despite everything we had gone through together, I might lose her". War certainly is not a game, nor is love. I am an avid reader since my early childhood. Never has a writer touched me like Uvi Poznanski. Her books will last right in line with classic writers long gone. I am sure. I recommend her books wholeheartedly to anyone who appreciates fine art.

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