Preparing to Publish

I admit it. I am nervous.  I decided to publish some of the short stories I wrote some time ago, so, I created an e-Publishing account, read the “how-to” manual and have formatted my first book of short stories, “Passages to Ruth.” I am still wrestling with a name for the genre. When I look at other ePublished books in “Biblical Fiction” most of them are Christian themed works. Mine are all HD (Hebrew Date.)  I found some interesting books under “Ancient Historical Fiction” which reflect modern society’s views of biblical events. I think I found a home.

The first story I wrote is “Ruth.” My concept of Ruth is not the original Jew by Choice woman we imagine. She is a far more human Ruth who is coaxed along her journey. Unfortunately for Ruth, she is the last in the timeline, hence last in her own book.

If you like, or perhaps, do not like Ruth (the person, not the story) wait to you meet Rebekkah, or Caleb, or wait to see what really happened on Mt. Moriah with Isaac and Jacob.

What was Rebekkah’s life before she was betrothed to Abraham? What were her wants and desires for her future? What if she were just a young village girl with all the insecurities and fears common to most?

Have you read about Moses parting the sea to escape the Egyptians? Have you read the theoretical scientific explanation of how the Israelites may have fled across the sea? Check out the “real” story in “Passages to Ruth.”

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Nahshon

He took another step and the water was at his neck, it’s salty substance trickling into his mouth. All sound was gone beyond the beating of his own heart and the pumping of his lungs, in and out, in and out. In the far distance, at the horizon, he saw a break in the darkness as the storm clouds began to scatter. Closing his eyes, in his mind’s eye he saw:

24 YEARS OLD – NECK

Suddenly panicked, the idea struck him, Nahshon realized he had never put his head underwater. It seemed so unnatural. How would he breathe? What if his nose and mouth were plugged with water? He would die. He was submerged to his neck now. If his foot slipped on a rock at the bottom of the waterhole he could slip underwater and he knew he would die. Where was Malach? He was always here to show him the way, the right way. There was Alzbeta,  the girl from the stock room who showed him how to wrap the loincloth. Why wouldn’t she help me now. She would know what to do. Where was the Egyptian? He said I was valuable. Surely, he wouldn’t want me to drown. And mother and father they loved me and my brother, Malach. Where is Malach? He would surely know what to do.

His whole body spasmed and he woke. He couldn’t ever remember such a bad dream before. He knew he was moments from drowning and death, but there was no one there to help him. Slowly he relaxed and tried to go back to sleep. He heard Malach’s soft breathing next to him. He did not see the sparkling glint in Malach’s eyes or the slight upturned creases at the corners of his lips.

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