Yesterday afternoon I met with a Book Club in Encino, California, one which had invited me to discuss my memoir, Becoming Alice. It is so interesting for me to speak to these various groups because I always come away with a different experience. This one particularly focused on the teenage part of my story. This always surprises me since my own thought on the subject made me think that the first part of the book would be of most interest. It is the most dramatic part. It is the one that invites you to experience the sheer panic and the miracle of the escape from Nazi persecution.
What I learned from the many book clubs I’ve spoken to, is that there have been so many books written by people who have had similar and often much more horrific experiences than I, people who have been in the camps, and people who have been old enough to fully understand the danger to their lives, that my story told from the perspective of a child, seems not to have the same impact.
But then the seeds of fear come out most distinctly in my teenage years, years that are even difficult for so many kids who have had the most normal of childhoods. I love when people tell me their own stories about having been the kind of kid I was … for a whole set of reasons that are entirely different than mine. I’m so glad they can relate to the teenage Alice.