Bøker av David Wolgroch

1969, a Jewish honor student in the Bronx is a school newspaper editor, the son of Holocaust survivors and the newest member of a Puerto Rican extortion gang. A strong inciting sequence puts a sixteen-year-old boy in a dilemma of possible violence. After angering the gang's leader Dave, at a neighborhood pizzeria, he reduces the bruise-planting consequences by sharp thinking and more importantly, by appearing to assimilate. It's a short leap from a call-out challenge to an affinity for Carlos Santana records, but the inward identity isn't altered. After the immediate crisis is managed, the cleanly demarcated goal is to quit the gang without repercussions. This is best done by brainwashing its tough but insecure leader.

This is a collection of some of things that I wrote. Most come from my actual experience or memories of events - frequently elaborated and sometimes adjusted to fit my preferred self-image. Some, I have to admit, are kinda stolen from things that I overheard from people I know who had not realised the rich potential and value of their stories as I did. To them, I apologise. Of course, this is nothing new. I have been elaborating, adorning and developing imaginative narratives of events to make my life more exciting and appealing to others for a very long time. I am so good at this that frequently I am cannot distinguish between the real and the enhanced memory. The first time this became apparent was in Kindergarten Show & Tell time at Canajoharie Elementary School in upstate New York. The teacher had called my parents in for a talk. She was quite concerned after I told the entire class that my mother sleeps with a bear. Of course, what they did not understand was that this story was much more interesting than telling them that my dad snored like a SOB. Perhaps it was the first time that I recall elaborating upon something fairly mundane in my mind. The truth is that I am rather common. Strong, perhaps, but common and unrefined. Hence, the adornment. Indeed, that was why I chose this title. I had initially planned to call this book, Some Short Stuff, which would have been ridiculously accurate but boring. However, an old title came to mind that I had tried to attach to other writings in the past. Fruit on Veneer is somewhat ambiguous they said. "What is veneer anyway," they asked. But, to me it encapsulates how I actually perceive myself: Something fresh, enriching and colourful on a pleasing and refined platter supported by a rather common albeit sturdy foundation. Yup, that sums me up, pretty much. I am not sure if it is a good thing, but there it is. I hope that you enjoy reading these stories, poems, plays, filmscripts and essays as much as I enjoyed writing them.