I think every writer dreams about the dedication page of their first book. It should be

taken up by an obscure but thoughtful quote by a famous literary figure. It should have the

name of that special person to whom all efforts are dedicated.

For me, I think that person is going to be my daughter’s piano teacher.

I’d love to tell you some heart wrenching story about how her piano teacher inspired me

or encouraged me or motivated me. But in truth, it’s very simple. My book would never have

been completed without her. Or rather, without her porch swing.

I am currently the proud worker bee of a fulltime job in finance, about as far away from

literature as you can get. Clearly, there is no time between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. for me to pull out

my laptop, transport myself to 1941 Prague and type out the conversation between Hanna and

Samual on the St. Charles Bridge, overlooking the Vltava River with its bevy of swans.

With 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. accounted for with work and 5 p.m. to bedtime accounted for with

family life, I had to work in writing time any chance I could get: 20 minutes early in the morning

when ideas were swirling around my head after a shower; many hours in the car waiting for

cross country practice or musical rehearsals for my daughter to end; sitting on my bed with a

facial mask setting and the laptop and research books sprawled around me.

The majority of my book, though, was composed during my daughter’s weekly, 45-

minute piano lesson, sitting outside her teacher’s house, lounging on the porch swing with my

computer balanced somewhat precariously on my lap, listening to my daughter play Yankee

Doodle Dandy on the piano and sing scales Sound of Music style.

When you write in bits and pieces due to time constraints, the story often comes

together in bits and pieces. For me, Diamonds in Auschwitz was written in no particular order. I

wrote all of Hanna and Samual’s chapters, then went back and added Rachael and Chaya’s. Not

only that, but many chapters were started out of order. When I envisioned a scene in my head,

I had to write it. That meant the epilogue was written long before I even considered the words

of Rachael’s first chapter.

Is the process (or lack thereof) I used to write Diamonds in Auschwitz “right”? I certainly

doubt it! But every writer needs to find what works for them, or in my case, what I could work

in for me with the rest of life’s busy schedule.