Saturday, May 25, 2024

News and Ideas Worth Sharing

Sonia Pilcer

Sonia Pilcer was born in Augsburg, Germany, and raised in the boroughs of New York City. Her latest book, “The Last Hotel: A Novel in Suites,” is based on the residential hotel her father managed on the Upper Westside in the ‘70s. “Teen Angel,” her first novel, launched Pilcer’s career in her twenties. It was bought by Universal Studios and she wrote the screenplay with Garry Marshall. The book has recently been reissued in a 35th Year Anniversary Edition. Her other novels include “Maiden Rites,” “Little Darlings,” and “I-Land: Manhattan Monologues.” Her adaptation of “I-Land” played at the Thirteenth Street Repertory Theater for six years. Most recently, “The Holocaust Kid,” her deepest and most personal book, explored the meaning of being “2G,” a second generation Holocaust survivor. Her theatrical adaptation was staged at Shakespeare & Co. in Lenox, Mass. Sonia Pilcer teaches at Berkshire Community College and the Writers Voice in New York City, as well as privately.

written articles

My ‘transgressive’ Holocaust novel is still stirring debate 20 years later

Sure, it is semi-autobiographical. And yes, I was scarred by my history. But had I really “inherited sexualized trauma”?

BOOK REVIEW: Dave Eggers, Margaret Atwood, John Grisham plus 33 other writers collaborate on COVID novel

The Bookstore in Lenox hosts three of the 37 participating writers from an ingenious new collaborative novel of the COVID days in NYC.

A people under siege: Notes from Zippori, Israel

Yael fixes me with a hard stare. “If we’re not safe, neither are you.” Then adds, “Tell that to your American friends.”

Yom Hashoah

The Holocaust is our scar, distinguishing us like stigmata. It gives our life gravity and we cling to it. We would be ordinary without it. Secretly, we believe that nothing we can ever do will be as important as our parents' suffering.

ARTIFICIAL INSANITY—The Novel: Chapter Eight

If you looked at them from a distance, they resembled one big extended family, which they were. This was the nature of family now.  Created, adopted, intervened, joined by the desire to conceive, connected by the commodity of cash.

ARTIFICIAL INSANITY: The story behind the story

The Berkshire Edge is running a serial novel, with weekly chapters each written by a different author. Sonia Pilcer, author of Chapter Eight, tells how this project got started.

AN INSPIRATION: Artist Lois Dickson

“Memory and invention have led me back to the landscape. I was thinking specifically about grottoes and caves, some halfway around the world and others just down the road…”

Chronicles: Door-knobbing

Everyone needs boundaries. Imagine if the 50-minute session went on three hours. Pity the poor shrink!

Art in the new surge

These are large (5 feet by 7 feet) mixed media creations from natural and industrial materials.

I’ll miss my mask

I own a wardrobe of masks. Black velveteen with an embroidered red rose. A dark cotton emblazoned with a woman raising her fist.

COVID days and nights: Steps and more steps

Our friends, whom we can’t visit, go out once a week to pick up their curbside delivery from Guido’s with all the drama of a Swedish thriller.


If I’m honest, I felt more peaceful during the lockdown than I ever have before. No need to maintain the “mad pursuit.”

Remembering Jonathan Baumbach

Jon was an old-fashioned guy. He didn’t have a cell phone… He never saw “The Sopranos.”

Annette Grant: A remembrance

She had worked at the New York Times, having been the editor of the Living section, then editor of the Weekend section and, finally, art editor of the Arts & Leisure section.

On being a writer: From poet to novelist

After poetry’s compressed, telegraphic form, I couldn’t let all the nouns and verbs just hang out in sentences.

WENDILAH: A personal remembrance of Wendy Rabinowitz

On Tuesday, December 11, Wendy Rabinowitz, 72, died in a car crash several miles from her home in Pittsfield.vWhat you might not know is what a luminous presence Wendy Rabinowitz was in the Berkshires, and beyond.

The Edge Is Free To Read.

But Not To Produce.