NEW!! HOW I LEARNED TO TRAVEL: A MEMOIR
HOW I LEARNED TO TRAVEL chronicles my peripatetic life. In 1967 I left California to study sociology in England eventually catapulting me into the Third World where I lived, worked and traveled for the next two decades. How I Learned to Travel weaves these unplanned journeys into a quilt of life experiences made from constant change from country and culture to another that soon became a way of life, I had to re-think my philosophy about “seeing and being” in the world. I invite you to come with me to places like Brazil, China, Cuba, Ghana, Jamaica, Nicaragua as I learned to travel.
THE RED SUITCASE, A LOVE STORY
THE RED SUITCASE, a novel in which Xander, a successful software engineer, travels to Brazil searching for the place he lost when his family moved to Scotland. He’s now twenty eight and living in foggy London without a true sense of belonging there. He is not ready to marry his girlfriend because a tempting invitation arrives from a childhood Brazilian buddy: Come visit us and go to the World Cup! When Xander arrives in Brazil, a red suitcase filled with his mother’s journals, awaits him. As he travels, he reads the journals. In Rio de Janeiro, he meets a beautiful, feisty law student, Ana Claudia. She views Xander as a “gringo” who doesn’t understand Brazil and its many contradictions. Xander is bedeviled by conflicting feelings of infatuation and infuriation. Leaving Rio, at each stop on his journey, he meets Brazilians who help him to better understand their country as well as himself. Meanwhile, reading the entries in his mother’s journal generate uncertainties and suspicions billow in his mind. Finally, in the Amazon, Xander uncovers a final clue to the truth about who he is…
Books & Other Publications
THE ALLIGATOR’S TOOTH: STORIES FROM JAMAICA
“Searching for a flat in London is no fun, especially after a summer in Spain. The search persists day after day. The air chills, a reminder of the English winter marching towards me. Emerging from the Charring Cross Underground station to scout for an Indian restaurant, a travel poster catches my eye. The gentle curves of a white sand beach banded by a wide ribbon of turquoise dissolving into deep blue defy the London gray. Coconut palms with shaggy yellow-green fronds cast soft shadows on shimmering sand while two empty orange chaise lounges relax in tropical luxury. Below the picture, in heavy bold block letters, I read the word “JAMAICA.”
These stories chronicle seven years in Jamaica exploring past roots, putting down new ones and then pulling them up again in a “ to and fro” dance that characterized my journey into a post-colonial world.
