Apples, Sunflowers and Pumpkins

Apples have been part of my fall memories for as long as I can remember. As a youngster, they were simply part of life—the familiar sight of an orchard, the excitement of picking fruit straight from the trees, and the pleasure of chewing on a crisp, enormous apple. Like many Jewish holidays, the sweetness of apples are symbolic of hope for a New Year filled with warmth and joy. It’s no surprise that my Facebook memory feed is peppering my thread with apple pictures. Pumpkins and sunflowers came a little later, but they're now part of my autumn trinity.

Over the years, that apple tradition followed me into adulthood. I picked apples with my children and, later, with my grandchildren. Apples became woven into our holidays, our family reunions, along with the memories that connect one generation to the next. Apple pies, apple crisps, baked apples, applesauce, and a special apple pancake soufflee are routine recipes when the autumn occasion calls for apples.

It’s probably no surprise, then, that apple orchards found their way into my writing. When I wrote my first novel, Threadbare, the orchard became part of the story’s landscape and the family's nourishment. Along with the chickens and the rhythms of farm life, the apples helped me create a world that appeared tangible and familiar. What began as something from my own childhood became part of my characters’ lives as well.

The apples continue to appear in the farm scenes throughout my books, almost like old friends who refuse to be left behind. But in my latest novel, Michigan Blues, they take on a very different meaning. This time, the apples are destroyed by the building of a Catskill hotel - all in the name of progress. Their absence protends a foreboding, something evil lurking in the wings. A fruit that has always represented abundance, family, continuity, and home is suddenly threatened, giving the orchard and surrounding pond deeper emotional significance in the story.

That is one of the surprising joys of writing historical fiction: the ordinary things we carry with us can become part of the worlds we create. For me, apples are much more than fruit. They remind me of where I came from, raising my children, watching my grandchildren reach for apples from the trees, baking delicious desserts, and traditions carried down through generations. Perhaps that’s why, no matter where my stories take me, I keep finding my way back to the orchard.

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Enjoy this lucious season of jewel toned colors and foods. My speaking line up for the rest of Sept through November is below - Then comes Florida! Hope to see you, soon!