Feature

If you’re reading this, it’s likely you are interested in having a book published or know someone who is—or, you are at least curious about the process. Maybe you’ve done some research on “self” publishing, but it all seems a bit confusing.

Not to worry. By the time you’re finished reading this, you should have a much better understanding as to the process of becoming a published author.  

Indeed, that process is far different today than it was just a few years ago. Many of the changes are largely due to ever-evolving technology, as every step in the “author to reader” experience has changed due to those advancements.

Authors of fiction and non-fiction alike have far greater access to information, as well as tools to help in writing process. Spelling and grammar-check programs are common for example, as is voice-to-type/dictation software, and the steady growth and sophistication of the internet and search algorithms make research easy. Together, these changes help free the author of some of the labor and mundane aspects traditionally involved in the creative process of “writing” a book.

How printed books are manufactured today is far different than it was in years past, as advancements in this aspect of the publishing process continues at an ever-increasing pace. Print-on-demand (POD) technology allows one-off, single-book printing to be accomplished at very-low cost, within minutes of an order. This means authors and publishers no longer need order large quantities of books in order to keep unit costs low.      

Alongside POD, the process in printing bulk-volume orders has also progressed. Our company, ALIVE Book Publishing, recently placed an order for one of our authors for 5,000 copies of his book. Within five days of the order, all 5,000 copies of his book were en route—printed, bound, boxed, and shipped. Just a few years ago, the printing process alone in this case would have required several weeks at least.

The advent of e-books is of course another change. An e-book is simply a device-friendly PDF (Portable Document File) version that one can read on a mobile device or computer. While not appropriate for all books (better than 80% of book-buyers still prefer the tactile experience of printed books), e-books are an attractive alternative for some books, like the “quick read” while you’re at the beach on your vacation.   

Then, there is marketing and distribution. The gorilla in the room here of course, is Amazon. This behemoth is doing its best to dominate the entire book universe. Currently, they list about 33 million books for sale. While responsible for the demise of countless small, independent booksellers—a shame, however you look at it—they are not the “be all end all” in books and publishing for many reasons.

In terms of marketing for example, someone must know about your book before they search for it online. And here, nothing beats good old-fashioned advertising. After all, you came to this article by way of ALIVE’s cover, or the ad on the back cover, am I right? Traditional advertising methods and human-driven public relations are critical elements in the sales process that Amazon does not and cannot provide. At ALIVE Book Publishing, we have re-published several titles for authors who at first tried Amazon’s in-house publishing service. Did you know that most independent, local booksellers won’t list or sell books created through Amazon’s publishing service? Those authors didn’t either.  

The fact is, while Amazon is terrific at warehousing and order fulfillment, when it comes to the more specialized aspects of book publishing, marketing, and sales, their automation-algorithm model is no match for the human touch.            

New vs Old World of Publishing

“I have a manuscript but would NEVER pay to have my book published.” Those were the words of a young author in response to my mentioning to him that in addition to publishing this magazine, ALIVE publishes books too, but in most cases the author pays the front-end cost to have their work published.

While we sometimes hear the sentiment expressed by this young author, it is a throwback from a bygone era when a handful of large publishing houses served as gatekeepers of the industry. Today, largely due to those technological advancements I mentioned before, this is no longer the case, as independent publishing houses like ALIVE now compete, toe to toe, with better-known publishers like Random House.

In fact, had that author chosen to submit his manuscript to us at ALIVE Books, assuming we approved his work, in as little as 60-90 days his book would have been in front of the same book buyers throughout the world as the current best-selling authors’.  

The Three Paths of Book Publishing

There are three ways to have one’s book published: traditional, subsidy, and self-publishing. All have advantages and disadvantages, and the path one takes largely depends upon the reason(s) for wanting to see one’s book in print. Some authors simply want to see their work bound in a book format with the intention of sharing it with family and friends; some have a desire to share their story or communicate an idea, and some have commercial success in mind, even if as only a “side benefit” of reason number two.

Path #1: Traditional Publishing

In the past, the traditional route was considered the only path. This is where an author begins the process by sending query letters—essentially a “sales pitch,” intended to capture the attention of a literary agent or publisher. The query letter includes a description of the work and the intended audience for it, along with some information about the author (a bio). In this case, if the author’s pitch is compelling, they may be afforded an opportunity to have a publisher review the author’s manuscript, and if it is “good enough,” the publishing house may agree to publish the author’s work. If one hopes to have their work considered by publishing houses like Random House or Harper Collins, it is essential that the author be represented by an experienced agent.       

Unfortunately for most, this path is a long, unfulfilling process. Few authors “make the cut,” as most agents and large publishing companies are so inundated with queries that they reject all submissions they are unable to classify with 100% certainty as “marketable.”

The most likely candidates to have their work represented by established agents and considered by “Madison Avenue” publishing houses are celebrities and personalities with well-recognized names (the Clintons, Trumps, Kaepernicks, and Kardashians) or authors who have already demonstrated—through previous subsidy or self-publishing success—that their work sells. Publishing is, first and foremost, a business and the days of “speculating” on unknown authors are long gone. The only relevant question publishers ask about an author’s manuscript is: “How many books will sell upon release?” 

For example, prior to January 2009, ALIVE Magazine’s fitness columnist was Lorrie Sullenberger, the wife of the now famous pilot, Sully. Prior to his successful landing in the Hudson River, had Sully approached the major publishing houses with a query letter about his experiences as an airline pilot, it’s likely he would have received the typical response—a rejection letter.

However, after a flock of geese collided with his plane and his subsequent artful skill in landing that plane, Sully became an instant celebrity—and a marketable commodity. The result? He was offered a two-book deal by a major publishing house, and eventually a motion picture was produced about the “Miracle on the Hudson.”

While traditional publishing provides advantages—namely brand recognition and the ability to have books placed onto the shelves of major book retailers, the profit margin for authors on each book sold can be miniscule. Publishers are betting on mega-sales—preferably millions of books—so they are looking for authors that fall into just a few, select categories. First, they look for “proven” authors; ones who can re-produce work that will be eagerly snatched-up by fans (the Grishams, Kings, Steels, Pattersons and Rowlings). Next, they are happy to publish the works of someone well known and currently popular; actors, sports stars and politicians for example; or anyone making news, like Sully, right after his remarkable landing.

In all these cases, if all goes as hoped, an author might earn thousands or even hundreds of thousands of dollars. And the publishing houses, of course, enjoy significant returns in all these scenarios too.    

But what if you are chosen by a major publishing house and your book doesn’t sell in the thousands? In that case there are challenges associated with traditional publishing. First off, major publishing houses will remove a book from circulation—designate it as “out of print”—if it fails to sell in significant quantities. Worse still, if a book fails to meet the publisher’s sales expectations, they will often demand that any “advances” paid to an author be returned. Ouch!    

Unless one has already sold thousands of copies of his work, or has the last name Kardashian or Clinton, authors like the young man mentioned previously will likely never see their book published. The only reasonable—and wisest—route open to this young author is self or subsidy publishing.

Path #2: Self Publishing

It is possible to self-publish your book. The main advantage to self-publishing is that you control 100% of the process. The main disadvantage is… you control 100% of the process!

You will earn the highest margin of profit this way, but that is because you will be doing all the work yourself. The steps involved are numerous, and if your plan is to produce a quality product (your book) that sells well and sells enough copies to be commercially successful, you need a very large tool-box of skill sets.  

Self-publishing means that you will not only write your book, you’ll need to edit it, design and create the cover, design and format the interior pages, obtain the necessary ISBN and bar code, file your copyright, and obtain your Library of Congress Control Number. And then you’ll need to know where and how to have your book printed.

Then assuming you want to sell your book with a hope of making money, you’ll need to market it. And even though your profit per book can be higher by doing all the work yourself, you still need to sell a lot of books to make very much. To do that, you’ll need to know how to make your book available through large online resellers like Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and to thousands of ancillary online wholesalers and retailers. Will you know how and where to make your book available to independent bookstores and libraries throughout the country and worldwide? Will you know how to re-format your book as an e-book and make it available that way in the marketplace, or if it even makes sense to do that? Will you be able to create your own website, promotional materials, and press releases? In short, do you already have the knowledge, technical and artistic skills, connections and resources to truly “publish” and market your book?    

Self-publishing is an option if you’ve written a book. . . and then again so is building your own car if you want to travel. . . but sometimes just being the driver—or author—is a more logical choice.      

Path #3: Subsidy Publishing

The final path of publishing is subsidy publishing. Years ago this was considered a second rate method, supposedly used only by desperate authors whose work was not “good enough” or had been rejected by traditional publishers. It was implied that authors who chose this route were having their work published merely for the sake of “bragging rights,” as in, “Hello, my name is Joe Smith, and I am an author.”

The fact is, however, many highly successful writers got their start this way, and in light of the realities of traditional and self-publishing, this is the most logical, effective, and affordable way for any author to have their work published.

To be sure, there are a plethora of subsidy publishing companies to be found online, most of which offering a menu of various services designed to get your book published. Most have low cost options to start, but just like in self-publishing, the more they do for you, the more it costs.

One of the major disadvantages of online subsidy publishing companies is their absence of personalized service. Looking at it from their perspective, because they function and compete solely in the very crowded online universe, they have designed their services with that in mind, so they often limit authors to “A, B or C” cover template options for example, or “Gold, Silver and Platinum” packages, each with narrowly defined options. And in most cases, these services are automated, whereby the author’s work is pushed into a pre-existing format—otherwise known as a “cookie cutter process.”

Another important consideration with online subsidy or self-publishing companies is their ability—or, more accurately, lack of—to market and promote an author’s book. While most of these publishers offer a variety of services, they are usually limited to very basic, simple things, like providing the author with a stack of postcards, or to writing up a press release. Some will even claim to include a website, which is often just a page on the web displaying the author’s book, with no functionality included.

The fact is, while web-only, cloud-based publishing services can publish an author’s book, they are limited in what that entails. You won’t be meeting with their art director or designer, for example, to discuss one of the most important marketing elements of any book —the cover; nor will you be able to select a font style from a vast collection of options for the text of your book. And while these online companies claim to offer marketing services, the fact is, they only offer a thin veneer of “marketing-like” resources at best.

Lastly, there is one other type of service to be aware of—authors who have self-published their own book(s) who now advertise themselves as a “publishing company.” While these individuals may have navigated their way through the maze of requirements listed previously so as to get their own book(s) listed on Amazon, this type of service is often akin to someone who wins a case in traffic court marketing themselves as a lawyer. If the first book they published was their own, they may be qualified to guide an author in the self-publishing process, but they are hardly a publishing “company.”        

Are There Any Other Options?

Does all this sound a bit hopeless? Are you beginning to wonder if there are any viable options available to the author who wants to have their book not just published, but effectively and successfully marketed as well?

Yes, Option #4: ALIVE Book Publishing!        

Let’s get something out of the way right now: Regardless of the reason that an author has for wanting to have their book published, the only reason any publisher will agree to publish an author’s work is if they believe it will be a profitable venture; plainly stated, the goal is to make money—period. Large commercial publishers are banking on a proven track record or an author’s celebrity status, while online subsidy publishers offer only a cookie-cutter process and are ill-equipped for little more.  

After thinking about this dilemma, it occurred to us that with our vast experience in magazine publishing, we could create a kind of “hybrid” publishing company that not only publishes an author’s work but does so in ways that meet authors’ unique needs and situations.

Enter, ALIVE Book Publishing, where we provide what no online publishing company can—a one-on-one, face-to-face relationship, every step of the way. We consider every publishing project to be a partnership, so we work with our authors and their projects in a hands-on, individual way. One size does not fit all with ALIVE, so we don’t have set formulas for the projects we accept. We sometimes invest more in a project than the author because our goal is for the author’s book to sell successfully over the long term.   

And, ALIVE is uniquely equipped to market and advertise an author’s book because we are the only publisher with multi-media marketing and advertising tools, and the expertise required to put real power into a local national, and international book launch.

What Can ALIVE Publishing do for the Author?

The typical services we provide for all authors includes personal advice as to the overall concept of the book project; a custom cover design; layout and formatting of the book’s interior pages; the determination of the best price for the book; obtaining the required ISBN and bar code for the book; filing for a Library of Congress Control Number; Copyright filing; and POD (print on demand) set-up of every book.

We then advertise all our authors’ books in the Ingram Book Catalog, reaching every bookstore and library in the country. This is THE catalog book retailer use to choose what books they will sell in their stores. We also list all our authors’ books through major online distribution channels like Amazon and Barnes and Noble, as well as throughout an established network of booksellers worldwide. ALIVE Books’ direct print book markets include the USA, Canada, the United Kingdom, the European Union, Brazil, Spain, Germany, Italy, Poland, Russia, India, China, Japan, and South Korean. Additionally, ALIVE Books reaches over 100 countries and territories through a vast network of over 35,000 wholesale and retail distribution channels in a relationship with Ingram Books.   

We are also able to provide comprehensive editing and formatting in all e-book formats, and we offer a wide variety of marketing and advertising options. We create and run display ads in ALIVE Magazine; create professional, fully-functional order-fulfillment-capable websites, and can produce professional videos for online and TV, and can conduct local or national public relations campaigns.     

Putting it All Together: What Does it All Mean?

While advances in technology have radically changed the publishing landscape to the point where anyone with a computer and a credit card can become a published author, as I noted earlier, this is not going to be enough if an author wants to successfully break into the book market.   

If everyone on the planet already knows who you are, you might consider having your book published via the traditional path. If you have all the skills and resources to go it alone, self-publishing may work, and if you’re only interested in a short-lived yet expensive ego boost, go ahead and send your manuscript into “the cloud,” and hope for the best.

But if your goal is to be serious about your book project and its chances for success, I suggest you elicit the aid of and partnership with a local publishing company that will be as serious and careful about your project as you are—ALIVE Book Publishing.

Email or call me today at 925-837-7303 for a free, confidential, one-on-one appointment, and tomorrow you may be well on your way toward having your book published!

It is often said that time flies when you’re having fun, but I’m finding that it flies even when I’m not having fun. Time flies when I’m happy or sad, busy or bored, burdened or carefree, having the time of my life or writing another article for ALIVE. By the time you read this article, it will be Valentine’s Day. I haven’t even taken down my Christmas tree and now it’s time for flowers, cards, chocolates, jewelry, fine wine, and fancy dinners out. Just for the record, I’m always very appreciative of any of these romantic gifts and gestures from my loyal readers. Don’t be shy.

It seems like just yesterday, we were celebrating Hanukah, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. For me that’s especially true as the Chief sets my deadlines unrealistically early for the magazine so here I am on January 2^nd trying to come up with a piece for the February issue. That said, time has a way of speeding up when we most need it to slow down. I only got 24 hours yesterday, how many did you get?

In the song Young Turks, Rod Stewart sang, “Because life is so brief and time is a thief when you’re undecided. And like a fistful of sand, it can slip right through your hands.” That Rod is deep.

Growing up, time moved at what seemed like a normal pace. Days were from sun up to sun down, evenings and weekends were leisurely, summer vacation from school was a legit twelve weeks, and it seemed like forever until Christmas or my next birthday rolled around. I never thought much about time as a kid and yet time is a constant topic of conversation as an adult.

In the song, Time Stands Still, by Rush, Geddy Lee sang, “Time stands still, I’m not looking back, but I want to look around me now. Time stands still, see more of the people and the places that surround me now.” Geddy could be very introspective. Probably because he’s from Canada.  

Once I became an adult, time seemed to speed up. It started a little at a time, but days, weeks and months all started to go by a little quicker. A busy workweek would fly by in the blink of an eye. A weeklong vacation would feel like it was over before it even started. Every six-month dental check up and teeth cleaning seemed to arrive before I got into a regular flossing routine. 

In the song Time is on My Side, by the Rolling Stones, Mick sang, “Time, time, time is on my side, yes it is, I said time, time, time is on my side, yes it is, I said time, time, time is on my side.” We get it Mick. He’s always been more than a little conceited.

When I became a young parent, when my children were newborns and then toddlers, each day seemed to last forever, but somehow we started going through calendars at a rapid pace. As someone once said about having children, “The days are long and the years fly by.” No truer words have ever been spoken. Then, the next thing I knew, my kids were teenagers and I worried about them all the time. They were also so busy I barely had enough time to get anything done outside of keeping them on schedule.

When we were attending the kids’ sporting events, a swim meet or equestrian horse competition seemed to wipe out an entire weekend. I once saw a t-shirt that read, “If I only had one day left to live, I’d want to spend it at a swim meet because that feels like the longest day on earth.” Take it from me, a horse show feels even longer.

Now my wife and I are empty nesters. Where did the time go? With our two girls away at college, time has new meaning. There’s way too much time between visits, but time goes by pretty quickly just trying to keep up with tuition and other expenses.

In the song Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce sang, “There never seems to be enough time, to do the things you want to do. I’ve looked around enough to know, that you’re the one I want to go, through time with.” Jim sure knew how to sweet-talk a lady.

In the song, (I’ve had) The Time of My Life, Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes sang, “Now I’ve had the time of my life/ No, I never felt like this before/ Yes I swear it’s the truth/ And I owe it all to you. Cause I’ve had the time of my life and I owe it all to you.” I still get goose bumps picturing Baby and Johnny tearing up the Catskills banquet room with their provocative dance moves.

At work, a day can fly by or it drag out forever. When we’re busy, there’s never enough time and when it’s slow, there’s too much time. Days lead to weeks, weeks to months and then another year is gone. Because a majority of us work to live and not live to work, the workday can’t end soon enough to enjoy the quality time we all want, need and crave.

In the song, Long Time, by Boston, the band sang, “It’s been such a long time/I think I should be goin’, yeah time doesn’t wait for me, it keeps on rollin’. And then, Well, I’m takin’ my time, I’m just movin’ on, you’ll forget about me after I’ve been gone. And I take what I find, I don’t want no more; it’s just outside of our front door.“ Those 80’s bands were full of long haired guys that just lived for the moment.

The one and only exception I can come up with to time moving too rapidly is probably “doing time.”  You know, jail time. Being locked-up, aka doing time in the big house, the joint, hoose-gow or the gray bar hotel. However you want to phrase it, prison time has got to be the most difficult, surreal time experience a person can face. I’ve seen The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Escape from Alcatraz and The Longest Yard so I know. Doing time seems like just that: doing it. Not spending time, not killing time, not even wasting time. Time has got to take on a completely different meaning when you’re locked in a cell.

In the song, Cats in the Cradle Harry Chapin sings the ultimate song about the passage of time as it relates to parenting. I would go on, but it chokes me up every time I hear it and a writer never cries. 

In the song, Does Anyone Really Know What Time It Is, by the band Chicago, the guys sang, “As I was walking down the street one day, a man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch and I said…Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? If so I can’t imagine why/we’ve all got time enough to cry.” Personally, I don’t usually cry when I look at my Timex, but the band sure sold a crap ton of records with that line.

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, knowing that Groundhog Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Passover/Easter, National Puppy Day, the First Day of Spring, Spring Break, Daylight Savings, and Mother’s Day are right around the corner, take time to smell the roses. Slow things down enough to enjoy the moment. Stop rushing around long enough to savor the time spent with family and friends or doing something that you love. We only get so much time in our life, so don’t waste it.

In the song Time after Time, Cyndi Lauper sang, “Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after, Time”. I don’t know about you, but I find Cyndi to be a bit repetitive.  

In part one of my 2019 OUTLOOK, published in last month’s ALIVE Magazine, I offered my forecast for our domestic stock market and economy in 2019. Here, part two completes ERPE’s 2019 OUTLOOK with my expectations for the global markets and economy in the year ahead. 

Global Markets

My Global Market Outlook for 2019 is thematically one of increased uncertainty.  Uncertainty breeds volatility. Also, I believe, volatility brings opportunity. In 2018, volatility was the world investment market’s dominant driver of investor fear. Price swings were dramatic, especially in the 4th quarter as the year’s global stock market gains were erased in weeks. The role of increasing uncertainty and risk factors for investors pose challenges and opportunities in the year ahead. Although global GDP growth is expected to slow in 2019, economic fundamentals should continue to support earnings growth in equity markets, though most notably in the U.S.

U.S. equities are likely to outperform those in Europe and emerging markets in 2019, as investors face increased volatility amid rising interest rates and trade uncertainty.

U.S. equity return drivers are well supported by several factors, including increases in intended capital expenditures due to U.S. tax reforms, low unemployment, and share buybacks.

Political and economic uncertainty is causing risk aversion among global investors, who are demanding higher risk premia from non-U.S. markets. This risk / reward ratio will potentially lower demand for foreign stocks, which I expect to lead to attractive valuations in global companies. Security analysis will prove critical to investment returns resulting in an advantage to single stock selection over prepackaged funds.   Any U.S. dollar weakness, downside surprises on U.S.  economic growth, signs of Federal Reserve dovishness or a greater impact from China’s looser fiscal and monetary policy stance, could provide a catalyst for emerging markets and other global stock markets to strengthen. 

Europe

European equities continue to be hamstrung by regional politics. Leaders in countries such as Germany, France and the UK are preoccupied with their own political survival. Brexit and the immediate financial risks presented by countries such as Italy fuel FUD (Fear Uncertainty & Doubt). This has weakened the energy needed to implement much-needed structural reforms aimed at protecting the eurozone from the next crisis. If Brexit negotiations result in a deal and populists fail to dominate May’s European Parliamentary elections, European markets could make progress in the second half of 2019. European growth remains reasonable and the European Central Bank is set to wind down quantitative easing and may even raise rates towards the end of 2019. Looking ahead to 2019 in the euro-zone financial markets, I expect it to overcome that headwind of the economic and political uncertainty and once again improve relative performance. I believe there is a case for global investors to be overweight in stocks in 2019 while remaining alert to increased tail risks. In such an environment, I recommend maintaining a global strategy as part of an overall investment portfolio allocation. Stay focused on stocks and regions with defensive characteristics, own companies likely to benefit from US economic tailwinds. 

Japan 

Japanese equities stand out as attractive, looking ahead in 2019. Japanese growth should see a boost from reconstruction efforts following a year of natural disasters in 2018, along with construction work ramping up for the 2020 Olympics. The Summer Games will be held in Tokyo. The tight labor market should provide a boost to consumption as wages start to rise. This should also bode well for capital expenditure as companies try to improve labor productivity. A key Japan event will be the consumption tax hike that is scheduled for October 2019. I expect Japanese bond yields to gradually edge up from a very low base, as inflation continues to slowly move higher. As was the case in 2018, the consumer will have a major impact on Japan in 2019. 

Emerging Markets 

Emerging markets (EM) relative equity valuations traded at all-time lows in 2018, with a discount to developed markets of roughly 70%, against a backdrop of trade conflict, idiosyncratic issues in countries such as Turkey and Argentina, fear of contagion and concerns about Chinese banks. Trade tariffs concerns took their toll, too. While the Fed continues to tighten monetary policy and the U.S. dollar remains strong, emerging markets are likely to struggle in aggregate. Earnings-per-share estimates continue to trend downwards for 2019 and will need to stabilize before strength in EM returns.  Specific EM opportunities, namely China, could emerge later in 2019, if the risks already priced in to markets do not materialize. China has responded to the trade war with the U.S. by loosening monetary policy to stimulate demand, while Chinese banks are trading close to the low levels not seen since the global financial crisis of 2008. Chinese equity valuations in general are very low. However, Chinese retail sales rose 9% year-on-year in September, and fixed capital investment (think investments in factories and infrastructure) has gone from roughly 44% of GDP to 48% in just five years. As I said in my 2018 OUTLOOK, China, in my opinion, remains positive. Trade and tariffs will tell. 

The winds of change are already blowing strongly on the global economic landscape. I expected global growth to slow this year, and that is being manifested now. Global markets are still vulnerable to fears that a downturn is near, even as the real risk of a U.S. recession is low in 2019. A general slowdown in the pace of world economic growth will not necessarily be the end of global economic expansion. 

The takeaway is with increased uncertainty in 2019 there will be an increase in volatility, as already seen in the first days of the new year. With that will come investment opportunity.

Invest wisely.

I have lived through a handful of incidents that could have closed the book called My Life but for the intervention of an all-powerful and divine entity, who according to my mother, was looking out for me. She would tell me, “HE saved your life.” Of course, she meant God. We often use terms like “I just got lucky” when we manage to live through some event, that we shouldn’t have. But, think about it, was it really luck or, was it possibly, Divine Intervention?

Here are a handful of stories, three of which happened when I was very young and there wasn’t anything I could have done to extricate myself from the situations. The last story happened much later in my life, when I should have known better than to get in that situation in the first place.

My mother and father told me this one, because I had no memory of it. Way, way back in 1943, at about eighteen months of age, I got very sick. I had a terrible cough and a fever. Nasty gooey stuff was oozing from my nose and mouth. My parents didn’t know what to do, so they took me to the Budapest Children’s Hospital, which at the time, luckily for them, was only a few blocks from our flat. We had no car. So, they bundled me up and carried me to see my doctor. It took him very little time to diagnose what was ailing me. It was Diphtheria. You more than likely have never heard of this nasty disease, unless you are in my age group or have read about it in a medical publication.

It’s a nasty, infectious disease caused by the bacteria Corynebacterium diphtheriae. The infection started in my nose and quickly spread to my throat and down into my lungs. The toxins forming were destroying all the healthy tissue in their path and were causing an ugly green-grey membrane to form all over every orifice and surface of my air passages, producing even more toxins.

As this nasty goop spread through my throat and windpipe, I was experiencing great difficulty breathing. The doctor informed my parents that I couldn’t be laid down in my crib because once in a flat position, I would most certainly choke to death. Hence, until the antitoxins and antibiotics would take effect, my mother and father had to hold me in an upright position in their arms and walk me back and forth throughout our tiny apartment for something like forty-eight hours straight, in order to keep me from falling asleep and choking.

The doctor had offered them to leave me at the Children’s Hospital, so that the nurses could do all the walking, but mom and dad didn’t want to entrust my well-being to anybody else. Following the forty-eight-hour period, and regular administration of the prescribed medication, the infection started to slowly break up and my parents told me (years later) that I started breathing a little easier. But even after I started looking and feeling better, my mother was still afraid to lay me down for fear that something might happen. After about a week, with the last dose of the medication, the infection went away. Fortunately for me and for the folks, I recovered as is obvious by my telling you this story.

My folks told me, years later, that after the ordeal, I slept for what seemed like a week, with my mother frequently checking in on me to make certain that I was still breathing. I owe both mom and dad a big one, just for those first forty-eight hours. According to them however, quite a few children still perished from this dreaded disease because some parents were slow in taking their children to the doctor’s or simply ignored the symptoms until it was too late. My mother firmly believed that a divine hand had interceded on my behalf, which is why I recovered.

I had barely recovered from my bout with Diphtheria, when I had another medical emergency which landed me in the hospital. On his way back from the Russian Front, my father had bought a beautiful icon, which is a religious artifact done in gold and framed in a gilded, inlaid wooden frame with glass in front. My parents had decided to move it from its former location and to hang it above my crib so that the saint pictured therein, and the golden angels would watch over me.

They should have known better by this time, that I was a curious little bugger, and perhaps the icon should have been hung a bit higher up on the wall. They thought that it was out of my reach. I however, had discovered that my reach was slowly getting longer. I could grab knick-knacks off the ornate little table next to the crib and bounce them off the floor; and so, my mother moved the little table farther away. With that challenge out of my reach, I started exploring other possibilities. The icon finally hooked me. I just had to check it out, up close, but it was just too high, I thought. For a while, I ignored it.

Then one day, I figured out this new maneuver. By raising one leg all the way up and over the top rail of the crib, I got a little lift. Very ingenious, I thought, with a sneaky little smile on my chubby face. Now, I speculated, if this maneuver gives me enough of a boost, I might just reach my goal, a very close examination of the golden icon. It was so pretty and shiny and I wanted to check out the angels and the saint, very closely. No harm in that, right?

As the folks were sitting on the divan (couch), relaxing and listening to the radio, I made my move without much fanfare, sort of nonchalantly. After a few disappointing slips, my leg was finally hooked across the rail. The next thing, my hand was stretching and reaching for the icon. With a little grunt and one extra push of my diaper-wrapped heiny, I was finally able to touch it. With another grunt and a final push, I hooked the frame with my little fingers and dislodged it completely.

The icon came crashing down on the edge of the crib, along with yours truly and we ended up in a heap of broken glass and the icon separating from the frame and me coming eyeball to eyeball with the saint and the golden angels pictured therein. I let out a blood curdling scream (I was told) which made my mother and father jump up from the divan and rush to the crib. They could see that not only had the icon broken apart and there were glass shards all over my crib, but a jagged shard was stuck in the top of my skull. I was bleeding profusely (I was told) and screaming at the top of my lungs. They literally ran me to the hospital.

When they told me the story years later, my parents said that I had been lucky that the glass hadn’t pierced my thin skull and all I had needed was but a few tiny stitches. Which brings me to my puzzlement when on occasion I had been called ‘thick skulled’ or ‘hard headed.’ Now which one was it, thin skull or thick skull? But I digress. To this day, if I softly run my finger along the ridge of my skull, I can still feel the inch-and-a-half or so scar from 1944. For the second time in a very short period of my life, my mother said that God’s angel has kept that glass shard from going all the way into my little brain.

By the way, my parents had the icon restored to its former appearance after the incident and hung it back up on a totally different wall, far, far away from my crib. It was one of the items my father regretted leaving behind when we had to leave Hungary. It would have taken up too much space in either suitcase they packed with essentials. Besides, they had firmly believed that in a few weeks’ time, the war would be over, and we’d be back home…

•••

As Hitler and his minions were chased out of Budapest, Stalin was moving in with a million-men army to take over. While this was happening, my parents decided that it was time to get out.

A few days later, in the last days of February 1945, we became part of a long column of refugees heading for the Austrian border and safety. Somewhere, along the way, on a road skirting the Danube River which at this time of the year was swollen and roaring along in a muddy, gray fury, our column was unable to avoid the bombardment of a small industrial town by Russian bombers.

Our column was forced to head for cover under the trees along the sloping banks of the Danube where quite a bit of snow and slush still covered the ground. My mother had been carrying me at the time because I had gotten tired of walking. My father was carrying our belongings and had lagged a bit behind. Oftentimes when the going was slow, I and all the other smaller kids were allowed to toddle alongside our parents to give them a bit of a break; until us wee-people started whining.

On this particular occasion, my mother had picked me up to stop the complaining. Nobody really knew what the planes were bombing. By this time, they had pretty much destroyed all bridges, supply lines and factories. There wasn’t much left of this little town but great big mounds of busted masonry, splintered wood and chunks of cement. Then again, maybe the Russian pilots didn’t want to run out of fuel, so they just dumped their load (of bombs), as they were often accused of doing. Who knew?

The Russian Tupolev Tu-2, twin-engine bombers got very close to the road we had been following. The column broke up; everyone scattering for cover in all directions. Russian pilots had been known for strafing anything that moved on the ground, be it soldiers or grandmothers with little children. They later claimed, believe it or not, that they couldn’t tell civilians and military apart from way up there. Through the smoke, dust and stench of metal and explosives from all the bombs, people were desperately looking for safe places to hide.

As my mother was running for cover under the trees along the bank which dropped toward the river, the blasts kept going off in all directions, rocking the ground underneath her feet and adding to the thick haze and the stench. She was holding me as tightly as she could, me in my big fur-lined coat when she slipped in the slush and the concussion ripped me right out of her arms as she fell.

I was sent flying and bouncing down the steep bank toward the swollen, swiftly flowing muddy, bloody river. She of course let out a scream, terrified that I would keep on hurtling right into the gray fury to drown.

My father, who had dropped the load he had been carrying as he himself had hit the ground, scrambled to his feet and took off after my mother. They were both slipping and sliding in the muck while ripping their clothing and getting all scratched up on the bramble and brush. They later told me that all they could do was watch me sliding and bouncing downhill. They were certain that I would end up plunging into the turgid, mucky waters.

Someone “up there” must have been watching over me. As I kept sliding and bouncing along the snowy river bank toward oblivion, my descent was suddenly halted. A rather large boulder, very close to the edge of the surging turbid waters, stopped my progress. Others hadn’t been so lucky. Some ended up in the river and had to be pulled out by brave men and women on the slippery banks; while some went under and succumbed to the treacherous swirling waters.

When my folks finally got to me, my mother said that I was laughing like this had been some sort of a whacky carnival ride. I was completely unhurt. The worst thing that had happened was my face was smeared with muck. Here I must interject a small factoid: my mother was a clean-freak. She had always kept me spotlessly clean.

So, the very first thing she did was to pull out her handkerchief, wet it with her mouth and start furiously cleaning my face. This is what my dad told me, every time he retold this story. The other thing I want to remind you of is, this happened in late February and as I said, it was still rather frosty. There was still snow and slush all over the place, so my folks had me bundled up. I was actually wearing this thick large fur winter coat which was called a Bunda in Hungarian. As it was a couple sizes too big, it went down to the top of my shoes and was topped off with a fur hat made of the same hide, tied under my chin. This getup made me look like I belonged to some lost Eskimos tribe, way up North Pole way; Nanook Kapus at your service.

With all that padding, no wonder I hadn’t felt a thing.

My mother thought for sure that it had been divine intervention that saved my life that day. I on the other hand firmly believe that it was that very large boulder; however, I never challenged what she wanted to believe. Anyway, how did that big chunk of the lithosphere; you know, a rock, just happen to be there, in that exact spot? You know, this time, she might just have been right. But whatever it was, I am here writing the story about it. Amen!

This last mishap took place in the Spring of 1966. I was now married. My youngest daughter had been born just a couple of months prior and we were moving from cramped quarters in Berkeley, to a nice house in Oakland that a good friend of my parents had offered to rent to us, for a very reasonable amount; would you believe $100 a month. Most importantly, my girls Christina and Gizella would have a nice yard to play in, when they got a little older. And, Saint Augustine church and school, were right across the street; which they both eventually attended.

My brother-in-law Charlie and I had rented a trailer for the move. We had boxed up all our belongings and made several trips back and forth between Berkeley and Oakland. When we had unloaded the last box at our new abode, Charlie and I were going to return the trailer to the rental company and stop off for a couple beers at our nearest watering hole, on Telegraph Ave., in Oakland. In retrospect, that might have been our first mistake.

We were both overheated in our t-shirts after all the loading and unloading and were enjoying a couple of brewskies. Suddenly, one of us—it might have been me—said “You wanna drive up to Tahoe and try our luck?” Why, I don’t know. So, after we finished our second beer, we got into Charlie’s 1959 Black Dodge Charger and after filling up at the Richfield gas station across the street, we headed for Ashby and the Bayshore highway. In 1966, the freeway part only went a couple miles past Richmond. After that, if I remember correctly, it was mostly two-lanes, all the way to Sacramento.

We were rolling along at a good clip, while listening to the latest hits on KEWB. Back in those days, Highway 50, which took you to Lake Tahoe, didn’t bypass Sacramento, in fact, you had to drive through town for a couple miles. At some point, before we left the city, Charlie said, “I’m getting tired, why don’t you drive the rest of the way?”

We left Sacto city limit and KEWB with me at the helm. I was watching the speedometer and we were cruising right along with no problems. As we got to the Sierra foothills, traffic had thinned out considerably as this was midweek. Pretty soon, I was navigating the twisty-windy road up the west face of the Sierras in the final thirty to forty miles to North Shore. Before I forget, back in those days, because there were no freeways, traffic moved a lot slower. So, as we had left Oakland at around four in the afternoon, by the time I started my ascent of the Sierra, it had slowly gotten darker and, it got overcast. I turned on the headlights. Also, remember, back in Oakland, the spring weather had blessed us with a balmy seventy-degree temperature, which is why we were wearing t-shirts. Half way up our climb, I noticed snow on the side of the road and under and around the trees. Pretty soon, there was a thin layer of the white stuff on the road surface. The charger had no chains on. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t even noticed a sign indicating that chains would be required. So, I slowed down a bit and started paying a lot more attention at how slick the surface of the roadway had gotten. Charlie was snoozing peacefully in the passenger seat and my eyes were on the road and my hands were holding the steering wheel a little tighter.

Up to this point, I could only see headlights a couple of miles behind us, down the serpentine, and no tail lights at all ahead of us. We were climbing higher and higher on the twisting road until I passed the sign saying, “Echo Summit – 7,377 ft.” Just as I glanced at the sign, a red light popped up, right in front of the Charger.

Out of nowhere, this car had suddenly appeared in front us. I slammed on the brakes. Not a smart thing to do on slick road surfaces. Instead of sliding to a halt, the Charger started spinning around like a top, right to the edge of roadway. As we’re spinning, Charlie suddenly woke up. “What the Hell is going on?” he exclaimed.

“Some idiot slammed his brakes on, right in front of us,” I blurted, as the Charger had slowed the spin down and came to halt, pointing in the wrong direction and very close to the edge of a 2000 ft drop. I broke out in a sweat and my heart was racing. Of course, by this time, the car in front, had disappeared.

“I better drive the rest of the way,” Charlie grumbled.

In my short 24 years on planet Earth, this was the second time that I had involuntarily gotten this close to the edge of the precipice, literally. Remember earlier, in 1945, when I almost ended up in the broiling Danube river? This time as well, it all could have ended at the bottom of the canyon, maybe in the Truckee river, except that this time, I really believed it had been divine intervention that had prevented it.

As Charlie drove down the other side of the Sierra toward the “Y,” where highway 50 splits, with one branch going North and the other South, he practically shouted, “I was having this nice dream, the next thing I see was a two-thousand-foot drop and the bottom of the canyon sliding by. I thought for sure we were goners.”

Nothing memorable happened after that. We got to Harrah’s casino and we both played Blackjack, until we ran out money. It was lucky that we had filled the tank on the Charger because all we had left in our pockets was small change. And way back then, neither of us had any credit cards. By 2 am, we were on our way back home, with our tails between our legs. We were trying to figure out what story were going to tell our wives. See, we had told them about getting a couple of beers after we returned the trailers, and both of the sisters knew that it shouldn’t have taken this long. We had some “splaining” to do…

Now, allow me to go back to the beginning, momentarily. We escaped from Budapest at the end of February 1945. A couple of years later, we found out from a friend who had stayed behind, that within a couple days of our departure, the four-story building we lived in, was leveled. I saw first- hand, the pile of rubble that was left, on a visit to Budapest in 2008.

Believe or not, I am certain that a higher power exists that looks after all of us. Call it God or whatever you wish. But the next time you make it through some horrific experience; think about it. It might just have been Divine Intervention, and maybe just say, Thank you God!