We took a fabulous trip last month to San Francisco. We had the opportunity to see the redwoods in Muir, across the Golden Gate Bridge as well as Yosemite national park. I have always been an Ansel Adams fan and have always wanted to see El Capitan for myself, maybe take my own black and white shot. In addition, we got to see the Diamondbacks play the Giants at Oracle Park. There’s just so much to do there, we were on the go the entire time. On the next blog, I will show you the picture I took while on a dinner cruise with Lisa in SF Bay. If you’ve never done one, it’s a fun experience.
Arizona Creates Interview
A YouTube interview for the launch of “Not on My Watch”
Blog talk Radio Interview: The Operator
Howard appeared on Blog Talk Radio to discuss his debut novel, “The Operator”
Here is a link to the interview
An Excerpt from “Not on My Watch”
Trouble walked in wearing high heels and attitude.
Shoulder-length brown hair framed her smooth, high cheek bones. Stopping well shy of the register, she scanned the tables as if looking for someone to buy her a drink. When her eyes caught mine, they lingered a second too long. A half-smile creased her lips, disappearing so quickly I was unsure I saw it at all. Strolling casually to the periodicals rack, she picked up a Vogue and began browsing.
I sipped my coffee and tried refocusing on the Journal article in front of me, but there’d been something unsettling in her glance. Was I supposed to respond? Offer to wait in line so she wouldn’t have to? If this were a bar, with its clear, unspoken rules, the choice would be easy. I was unaware of such protocols at Starbucks however, especially ones located inside a bookstore on a rainy, September afternoon. I folded the paper and laid it down. Her dark walnut-brown eyes stayed glued to whatever page she’d turned to, her long lashes barely blinking. She wore a white silk blouse and dark-blue, knee-length skirt which showcased her slim figure and shapely legs.
Without warning, she looked up and our eyes met once more. Flashing another quick, half smile, she replaced the magazine in its rack and strode past me, the scent of Chanel mingling with the soothing aromas of cappuccinos and lattes. I watched, transfixed, as she entered the bookstore, ambling down the nutrition aisle, fingers lightly caressing the shelves.
Suddenly disinterested in the slowdown in international gold production or the market turmoil due to the aftermath of a nationwide shut down, I followed her. There was something familiar in her smile, but what? Michelle had never smiled at me like that. Nor Helen. Nor any of the half-dozen others since the divorce. I racked my brain, trying to place her. College? No, I was still too married and too naïve. My internship at Smith-Wesley Securities? That would have made sense, but by then I was too devastated by the divorce to even consider finding someone new.
She crossed into the “Relationship” section, where self-help titles like, “What to Look for in a Woman’s Eyes,” “How to Interpret Her Body Language,” and “How to Get Laid Every Night of the Week, and Twice on Sundays,” were prominently displayed. These were all written by self-anointed experts, of course, who never had any of these problems. They’re about as useful as a Stephen Hawking physics book. They make perfect sense, but the minute you try to practice their techniques, you trip over your own ineptitude and fall, face first, into a black hole, never to be heard from again.
Lost in thought, I nearly tripped over a stroller with a sleeping infant as it intersected my path, appearing from the aisle between “Cooking” and “Early Childhood Development.” I apologized, but only got a scowl from the young mother as she picked up her crying baby. Pivoting to see where my mysterious lady disappeared to, I found her standing several steps away, facing me with arms crossed and a broad smile on her face. She obviously witnessed my close encounter with infanticide, and I couldn’t help but smile as well. Holding my hands out to the side, I shrugged to acknowledge my embarrassment and closed the distance between us.
“Hi, Steven. Long time, no see.”
An excerpt from The Operator
The OperatorAll Things That Matter, Publisher 263 pages Publication Date: October 2018 Suggested Retail Price: Print Edition, $16.99; Kindle edition $5.99 Author: Howard Gershkowitz ISBN: 978-173272374-0 Available from Amazon.com in both print and kindle editions or by contacting the author directly.
News Article in the Santan Newspaper about The Operator
Author Howard Gershkowitz and his debut novel, the Operator appeared in the January 5, 2918 edition of the Santan Newpaper
“A longtime financial adviser with a passion for history and a love of sci-fi is thrilled his love for writing has paid off in the form of his first novel.
Howard Gershkowitz, a 19 year resident of Chandler, wrote The Operator, a fictional novel set in Prescott that involves time travel, the economy, and romance. Independent publishing company All Things That Matters published it.”
Read the full article