<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 19 Dec 2024 03:26:49 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>overland</category><category>Afghanistan</category><category>Danny</category><category>traveling adventure</category><category>Kathmandu</category><category>Northern Ireland</category><category>Soviet Union</category><category>Iran</category><category>adventure</category><category>lost love</category><category>love story</category><category>sequel</category><category>1979</category><category>5 star reviews</category><category>Facebook</category><category>India</category><category>Istanbul</category><category>Magic Bus</category><category>OVERLAND - what&#39;s it about? 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I’d been traveling for five weeks. Certainly not a long time by long term travelers, but long enough in that a badly needed respite was well, badly needed. As the long, overnight bus ride pulled into the bus station, I was simply bedraggled. Hadn’t showered for two days, shaved, I smelled, I was probably close to being mildewed. I really needed to just to a complete makeover of body and mind and soul. And I really wasn’t sure I knew where I was going other than a traveler’s tip from Goa was to go to Fort Cochin. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQJ3izMnRhx4OmLL_sJ9MB1J5hKDM8LCB4ts8BYP5eOcrSXsK33N0OcPN1XA0epnzIWsBv8-gVW4L0VmMk7omjQwe41abSjddTmfr2M9T69mEUOCK1bYvP6RLy8x5uyNP0QXFylcGa8M/s1600/chinese+fishing+nets+and+boats%252C+ft.cochin.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQJ3izMnRhx4OmLL_sJ9MB1J5hKDM8LCB4ts8BYP5eOcrSXsK33N0OcPN1XA0epnzIWsBv8-gVW4L0VmMk7omjQwe41abSjddTmfr2M9T69mEUOCK1bYvP6RLy8x5uyNP0QXFylcGa8M/s200/chinese+fishing+nets+and+boats%252C+ft.cochin.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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As the bus pulled into the Cochin station, all I saw along the way was a big city, nothing real special and my heart sank. This was to be my oasis? I asked an auto rickshaw guy to take me to Fort Cochin..it was all I had to go on. As we approached Fort Cochin my spirits were elevated, no make that restored. I found my new favorite oasis in Fort Cochin. Relaxed tree lined streets dotted with home stays and guest houses and there were even western travelers here. OMG…I found it, another sanctuary like in Rishikesh, where travelers actually go. &lt;br /&gt;
I checked into Ann’s Residency and took a shower, had breakfast of hot coffee, omelet, toast, people to talk to, WIFI…in other words, paradise! As I wrote earlier, if you don’t like where you’re at something better will come, and it did. And immediately went to work. Deadlines for book events were upcoming, airline tickets needed to be booked, clothes needing washing, and stuff back home needed to be mailed..and my phone needed a minutes recharge. I did it all and never felt so relieved in my life! &lt;br /&gt;
I even had a visit by a journalist for a face to face interview for The Hindu newspaper. The nice family of the guest was wondering who is this guy who takes over the computer, has journalists showing up and laying on all his demands? A guy who needed it, is who! I proceeded to get to know this charming and quaint seaside town by casually strolling the streets. I was restored!&lt;br /&gt;
The next couple days were more of the same. I took a tour with an auto rickshaw guy of Jew town, spoke to a few shop owners who all seem to be from Kashmir, and we collectively rhapsodized about Kashmir. Kind of funny, all very true. And I ate well. Breakfast was provided by Ann’s Residency and a hearty one at that, coffee, omelet, toast and a huge portion of freshly cut pineapple, mango, papaya and a yellow kiwi.  &lt;br /&gt;
Again, I had the place to myself, other than the family, but no fellow travelers. It dawned on me I was missing them. Whether it be a brief encounter or days on end, like The Brotherhood of Rishikesh. The monsoon rain was the reminder that this is off season. Late July and August, the owner of Ann’s residency said, will start to boom. I debate this within myself what is better? The place to myself and all the attention or to compete for rooms, service etc? &lt;br /&gt;
The morning I left Ann’s, I found a French family and young man from Germany in the van waiting for me to take us all to the boat for the long and highly anticipated awaited backwater trip from Cochin to Alleppey. And it was fun. We all became instant friends, laughing, chatting and a slight shock factor that I speak some French. It was a tranquil ride too, full of tropical beauty and a slow paddled ride down stream. We stopped on shore for a deliciously simple lunch of various Keralan treats served on a banana leaf. The ride was nearly over when I discovered we weren’t going as far as Alleppey. As it turns out we were 40 klics from Alleppey and I was to take a bus. The boat docked and said goodbye to my new friends, an all too brief yet fun time. And found myself on a horribly crowded bus that lasted two hours and seemed forever. What a buzzkill after such a tranquil day. It was nearly dark and raining when the bus arrived into Alleppey. And after some fruitless searching for the hotel the Cochin guy gave me, the auto rickshaw guy found it. It was a simple yet nice place situated on the lagoon, and had dinner…alone. It was raining and didn’t have the greatest sleep as I had an early wake up call for the train to Trivandrum. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwmjD4UehgxkvCeTuMFE_Umno6-QciYyqX5D5SsAGScjrJuE0oExOMd96E5zpjQHMI0wkB-j1aV6ugag-M_d0o87k0yDDq8V4xDbcv_4gsL8fik0DcnUfTxkchLtN7yxJvOYcqSZkOgo/s1600/bus+to+Alleppey.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwmjD4UehgxkvCeTuMFE_Umno6-QciYyqX5D5SsAGScjrJuE0oExOMd96E5zpjQHMI0wkB-j1aV6ugag-M_d0o87k0yDDq8V4xDbcv_4gsL8fik0DcnUfTxkchLtN7yxJvOYcqSZkOgo/s200/bus+to+Alleppey.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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When I arrived at the station to purchase a ticket, there was a huge line and my train time was quickly approaching. I cut into the front and got a ticket and boarded the incredibly crowded commuter train, No AC sleeper here, it was strictly to get from point A to B. I had to stand the first hour, and sat smushed  next to my fellow seat sharers. All my relaxed time at Ft. Cochin was out the window with the crush of Indian humanity with the back to back bus and train rides. I needed some solace, I needed to be restored again. And then it dawned on me: I was in Trivandrum, and scheduled to take a hotel in town. But just down the road was the place where I first set foot on Indian soil 26 years, Kovalam Beach. Kovalam Beach! Go there I practically shouted, and so I did!</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2011/07/restored-unrestored.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQJ3izMnRhx4OmLL_sJ9MB1J5hKDM8LCB4ts8BYP5eOcrSXsK33N0OcPN1XA0epnzIWsBv8-gVW4L0VmMk7omjQwe41abSjddTmfr2M9T69mEUOCK1bYvP6RLy8x5uyNP0QXFylcGa8M/s72-c/chinese+fishing+nets+and+boats%252C+ft.cochin.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5292822273105959775</guid><pubDate>Mon, 30 May 2011 15:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-05-30T09:30:23.595-06:00</atom:updated><title>DON’T FRET ABOUT THE MULE GOING BLIND, JUST KEEP LOADING THE WAGON</title><description>This was said to me by an old saw of a man, when I explained to him my concern about a very wet monsoonal India…yep, just keep loading the wagon…you’ll get there!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B9nqLAkLUwXo11Sgsg5KeQYiilnTe0epHIwd7X0FCAUuy3IA7bz6a48MHbGQsy3jbwCeL8ZfSWjVS8jhwa-vCnix9DsYc1E_9xZjXm0qpnHvyffGk5OGBzpAcwIJ3sR8q3WW2q98Yvo/s1600/Pony_Cart_or_Wagon_Being_Pulled_by_a_Horse_100903-133025-435042.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;77&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B9nqLAkLUwXo11Sgsg5KeQYiilnTe0epHIwd7X0FCAUuy3IA7bz6a48MHbGQsy3jbwCeL8ZfSWjVS8jhwa-vCnix9DsYc1E_9xZjXm0qpnHvyffGk5OGBzpAcwIJ3sR8q3WW2q98Yvo/s200/Pony_Cart_or_Wagon_Being_Pulled_by_a_Horse_100903-133025-435042.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2011/05/dont-fret-about-mule-going-blind-just.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B9nqLAkLUwXo11Sgsg5KeQYiilnTe0epHIwd7X0FCAUuy3IA7bz6a48MHbGQsy3jbwCeL8ZfSWjVS8jhwa-vCnix9DsYc1E_9xZjXm0qpnHvyffGk5OGBzpAcwIJ3sR8q3WW2q98Yvo/s72-c/Pony_Cart_or_Wagon_Being_Pulled_by_a_Horse_100903-133025-435042.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5105951046265593208</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 May 2011 21:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-05-16T15:50:11.381-06:00</atom:updated><title>EVERYBODY HAS THEIR OWN SHANGRI-LA</title><description>In speaking with a friend the other day who I hadn’t spoken with for a long time, I told him my news of my book OVERLAND being published in India. I also told him I was going to go there and tour around India to promote the book as well as detox from the pressures of western society. His reaction was “Well, I would go on a boat in the Caribbean and tour around there.” I said that sounds nice and all, but also sounds kind of boring. I said everybody has their own Shangri-la. Meaning to each his own, right? My Shangri-la is actually Shangri-la, somewhere in the Himalayas where it’s beautiful, peaceful, spiritual, you know, Shangri-la! In reality Shangri-la doesn’t exist. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGMj_H6G4jNOPC1vjY0Ych2EUPMbH_6vXfZgSZmC38umQykevLDjKRkCreKPonQPb46snu6uJ4Iafo1tSUZIVVWvHH0UPdHwvUfHaPZeTJ_vWH3gczTRutyHPMlVxwqQTprD-WvtVLmg/s1600/ShangriLa.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;133&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGMj_H6G4jNOPC1vjY0Ych2EUPMbH_6vXfZgSZmC38umQykevLDjKRkCreKPonQPb46snu6uJ4Iafo1tSUZIVVWvHH0UPdHwvUfHaPZeTJ_vWH3gczTRutyHPMlVxwqQTprD-WvtVLmg/s200/ShangriLa.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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From Wikipedia: &lt;i&gt;Shangri-La is a fictional place described in the 1933 novel Lost Horizon by British author James Hilton. In the book, “Shangri-La” is a mystical, harmonious valley, gently guided from a lamasery, enclosed in the western end of the Kunlun Mountains. Shangri-La has become synonymous with any earthly paradise but particularly a mythical Himalayan utopia — a permanently happy land, isolated from the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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That’s what I’m talking about. What’s your Shangri-la?</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2011/05/everybody-has-there-own-shangri-la.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGMj_H6G4jNOPC1vjY0Ych2EUPMbH_6vXfZgSZmC38umQykevLDjKRkCreKPonQPb46snu6uJ4Iafo1tSUZIVVWvHH0UPdHwvUfHaPZeTJ_vWH3gczTRutyHPMlVxwqQTprD-WvtVLmg/s72-c/ShangriLa.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-3404353072774468173</guid><pubDate>Sun, 19 Dec 2010 12:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-12-19T05:30:50.185-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>RANDOM HAPPENS</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s1600-h/random.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s320/random.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393647749183016802&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;How repeatedly do you find yourself using this word, random? Often? Me too. We all know what it means, something that happens that was not planned…out of the blue, accidental, indiscriminate, arbitrary...random! &lt;br /&gt;
In my circles and elsewhere on TV, it is a commonly used word, right up there with “whatever”. But the word whatever (I use it too, I’m not preaching here) seems so hopeless and misplaced. Let’s face it. Life is tougher these days. We all have to live with less. It’s easy to fall into a misguided way of thinking. I’m glad “random” has become in vogue as it gives some lift to the &lt;em&gt;whatever&lt;/em&gt; way of being. If it is upbeat, random can be positively inspiring. And when that happens so unexpectedly, it feels so good and so surreal. Of course, there is bad random, but “let’s not go there”.&lt;br /&gt;
What’s a decent example of good random? Meeting someone that you share so much in common with? It feels sublime to share familiarity with someone you hadn’t met before. That somebody can become an instant friend, maybe for life. And good friends are a good thing!&lt;br /&gt;
Regular readers of my posts know where this is going. Of course this has something to do with OVERLAND. This is what this blog is all about. Danny has a string of random encounters in his travels sprinkled throughout Overland. Poetic license?  Perhaps. But Overland is a novel, where in a fictional world, anything can happen. And it does for Danny.&lt;br /&gt;
But in the cyber world of Facebook and the like, randomness has become common, and that is a good thing too! When Danny traveled about in 1979, there was no high technology. There was just pure luck, and randomness. Find out about the random in Danny’s world. &lt;br /&gt;
I’m sure you have had your sure of random encounters in your travels, and if you did, I’m sure they were memorable!&lt;br /&gt;
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What was your random encounter? Did it change your life forever?&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/12/random-happens.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s72-c/random.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-640553596281408568</guid><pubDate>Thu, 25 Nov 2010 14:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-11-25T07:59:45.221-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">adventure</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">falling in love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">soulmate</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">soulmates</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the secret</category><title>SOULMATES 101</title><description>Being someone’s soulmate is the ultimate achievement in a relationship. It may not necessarily even be your spouse, although preferred. It could be your best friend. It could also be someone you have never met, or may met once a long time ago and always wondered...&lt;br /&gt;
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What is a soul mate, anyway? Webster&#39;s definition: “somebody with whom somebody else naturally shares deep feelings and attitudes”….We all need and want to be there, don&#39;t we? And I am sure there are many that are already there.&lt;br /&gt;
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I think many people search their whole lives looking for their soulmate, especially one they can be attracted to physically, and of course sharing deep feelings and attitudes. &lt;br /&gt;
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How do you know you have found your soulmate? To compartmentalize a relationship, it starts (usually) with a physical attraction. Of course the same or similar mental capacity and compatibility. Finally, it&#39;s that spiritual connection that transforms the couple into being soul mates aNd falling in love is as natural and wonderful as anything you&#39;ve ever known.&lt;br /&gt;
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Danny Benson, our hero in OVERLAND, thought he had his soulmate in Heather. She was the reason he went on this long adventure in the first place. But he was so consumed by his medical school studies he lost sight of the fact she really wasn’t his soulmate anymore but only until it was too late. &lt;br /&gt;
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When he met &quot;__________&quot;, what I&#39;ll call the “secret” of OVERLAND, Danny’s whole world changed. Between the two, Heather and “the secret”, the clarity of what a soulmate is became defined, quickly!&lt;br /&gt;
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Interestingly, the feedback I have received from those that have read OVERLAND, not everybody falls in love with “the secret”. In fact, some people prefer Heather. Two very distinct women are characterized within OVERLAND. &lt;br /&gt;
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So the questions remain: how do you find such a person that can become your soul mate? And how do you really know its right? &lt;br /&gt;
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Comments are welcome!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.overlandthebook.com&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/11/soulmates-101.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-6843246391661669829</guid><pubDate>Sun, 12 Sep 2010 15:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-12T09:09:45.758-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Danny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">OVERLAND - what&#39;s it about? rerelease</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sequel</category><title>OVERLAND REDUX</title><description>Thank you for stopping by to spend a few minutes with the OVERLAND the book blog. Here you can read about various scenarios and paths we take in life and integrate them to certain scenes and points of views with Danny and some of the other characters within OVERLAND. &lt;br /&gt;
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Some readers of the book might be wondering, what is all the fuss? This book was released last year. It is true, OVERLAND was first published in August 2009....and now re-released in September 2010. Why?&lt;br /&gt;
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Simply, I had grown to love my characters and couldn&#39;t say goodbye. OVERLAND ends with some wonderful closure but left the door open for a certain character and what happens...in the end. &lt;br /&gt;
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About 6 months after publication last year, I came up with the idea for a sequel, and it was good, really good. I didn&#39;t want to wait to write the sequel to see this new part of the story...and so, voila...in the new release of OVERLAND there is an exciting and crucial added element of the storyline and will create a natural path for the sequel.&lt;br /&gt;
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I loved it how it came out, and now inspired to share this story with you, and looking forward to the path of the OVERLAND re-release and on to write part II. &lt;br /&gt;
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What do you think about the new cover?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.overlandthebook.com&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/09/overland-redux.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-8129604269396076739</guid><pubDate>Sun, 28 Feb 2010 14:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-04T08:49:54.178-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Amazon</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">around the world</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Dr.Zhivago</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Greece</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Indiana Jones</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">journey</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kindle</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">morocco</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">technology</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The English Patient</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Notebook</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">traveling</category><title>MEET THE AUTHOR OF OVERLAND</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnwTGhysNJgbwvk0jnIIT02RouzScjdZlEiCmo0Yf7_xexf5ATkak6ePlFUDupBwByUSUWI5_76Cpf3AlNreRan8DjVJ9jQjcDYH6CVKeULsHchFNCGVgrolpB4o5PBqFtD-3gSOmoE8/s1600/Mark.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnwTGhysNJgbwvk0jnIIT02RouzScjdZlEiCmo0Yf7_xexf5ATkak6ePlFUDupBwByUSUWI5_76Cpf3AlNreRan8DjVJ9jQjcDYH6CVKeULsHchFNCGVgrolpB4o5PBqFtD-3gSOmoE8/s200/Mark.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513069308822393234&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Mark Stephen Levy has been earning his living working within corporate sales of technology for many years. About a third into his career, he decided to take a sabbatical from the everyday stress of working life, and went traveling around the world for two years. It was the journey of a lifetime and changed Mark’s perception of the world, and the people and cultures and religions within it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUTmZuPRreLr7SAi5x1Fl5Wax3X_mlKCLFA5EPXzTv8NJGEuF5UEDLuO_9DQQY-Ue5ApKYlRkR1SeJLzqF2WbWDKcbptH9Tnx1sHd6b4XzLZtXemPR4dZ-5voEkcta-UBMmEhU0KDc6U/s1600-h/marakesch.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 141px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUTmZuPRreLr7SAi5x1Fl5Wax3X_mlKCLFA5EPXzTv8NJGEuF5UEDLuO_9DQQY-Ue5ApKYlRkR1SeJLzqF2WbWDKcbptH9Tnx1sHd6b4XzLZtXemPR4dZ-5voEkcta-UBMmEhU0KDc6U/s200/marakesch.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443299670115090114&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The impact was profound, compelling, life changing. From the jet set beaches of the Costa del Sol of Spain, to the deserts of Morocco, and over to the islands of Greece, Mark was on a trip of lifetime.It wasn’t till India that Mark saw how the other half of the world lives, and the spirituality that radiated from despair that came with it. He lost all sense of material self, and transcended to where he had never spiritually been before. And he liked it, he liked it a lot…and he was changed forever.&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnRaocNA7jfZLDco5i7K6txDehU5vwvBQscJIsOVl573xbOHVwFqfH-lLKsqZ88EMvjSk1wrop-jVS7VymfA5jNy24XO4lwdM_4LC0ieCYSdczvUXq2u3IbRGu-2HSn4Hn7nKtT1-InU/s1600-h/india_village.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnRaocNA7jfZLDco5i7K6txDehU5vwvBQscJIsOVl573xbOHVwFqfH-lLKsqZ88EMvjSk1wrop-jVS7VymfA5jNy24XO4lwdM_4LC0ieCYSdczvUXq2u3IbRGu-2HSn4Hn7nKtT1-InU/s200/india_village.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443299412845192434&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facing the reality of having to earn a living again, Mark returned from a two year journey back home to Los Angeles and jump started his technology career.While Mark’s technology career ebbed and flowed, the stories and memories from that auspicious trip never left and had begun to surface and grow and take form. A fictional story emerged to where his first novel, OVERLAND was written, and put pen to paper and the story was unleashed with passion and fury. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OVERLAND has fans from all around the world on Facebook, Twitter, Linked In and multiple other sites. Fans of OVERLAND have left comments that they love the story and can’t wait for the movie version. Overland’s global appeal will compel all generations to see a story reminiscent of Indiana Jones, The English Patient, a touch of The Notebook and Mark’s greatest literary inspiration, Dr.Zhivago.&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PGBsoDI9_wpyZZc0wlYVpCDgmcOP3sMZaeK4hVCgAR6-XoCsU_gY_NxCUUFcu9dbOMRaXRrnCsOeRdNP2unecuHmWUjfkOgQOkFLAcBNrLWnTSqc4TOUChkg7_MmXDmH7l4dO5H3O84/s1600/Overland+front+cover+jpg+60600_L.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PGBsoDI9_wpyZZc0wlYVpCDgmcOP3sMZaeK4hVCgAR6-XoCsU_gY_NxCUUFcu9dbOMRaXRrnCsOeRdNP2unecuHmWUjfkOgQOkFLAcBNrLWnTSqc4TOUChkg7_MmXDmH7l4dO5H3O84/s200/Overland+front+cover+jpg+60600_L.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513069715859989906&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy published his novel Overland in 2009,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan on December, 27, 1979 the day the Soviets invade.&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/02/meet-author-of-overland.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnwTGhysNJgbwvk0jnIIT02RouzScjdZlEiCmo0Yf7_xexf5ATkak6ePlFUDupBwByUSUWI5_76Cpf3AlNreRan8DjVJ9jQjcDYH6CVKeULsHchFNCGVgrolpB4o5PBqFtD-3gSOmoE8/s72-c/Mark.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-2324934826516602408</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Feb 2010 19:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-12T12:40:23.018-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Danny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">found</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">freedom</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lost love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><title>LOST = FOUND</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYOPGWXFmqYYn8TMqHvHUJfWeB_VoLUgeEVqiwbZ30tZzgIxGXIrz80GYJZwT7nyyc87lJ2OwZHWILcgqEqV8zOVowCY3kX-l8_1-qTKnuHteGZoCKOuGo9Yic8bj0TibbK0JMBuYQPk/s1600-h/Lost+%26+found.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 295px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYOPGWXFmqYYn8TMqHvHUJfWeB_VoLUgeEVqiwbZ30tZzgIxGXIrz80GYJZwT7nyyc87lJ2OwZHWILcgqEqV8zOVowCY3kX-l8_1-qTKnuHteGZoCKOuGo9Yic8bj0TibbK0JMBuYQPk/s320/Lost+%26+found.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437444102598852290&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Has there ever been a period in your life where you feel completely lost? Lost that is meant in a spiritual, guided way. Not a pleasant feeling, is it? Then some miracle happens, could be anything. It could even be some compelling moment in time such as those imaginary light bulbs that pop up in cartoons. That ah ha moment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many opportunities that can guide you along the way…along life’s path…religion, certainly, your spouse or close friend, parents, your children, a book, music, or art, a movie or TV show (LOST).&lt;br /&gt;For me, the ah ha moment was when I traveled around the world, and discovered who I was…what was interesting at the time, I knew I had lost my own that spiritual path had fallen off course, and was well, lost. When I rediscovered how to get back on course, it was as illuminating, and mentally as invigorating as anything I’ve ever experienced. I highly recommend it. Being found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Danny in Overland, when he escaped and ran down hill towards his freedom, it was in harm’s way and war time, but he had never felt more alive and free.  Although perilous, he found life’s path, and never looked back! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy published his novel Overland in 2009, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan on December, 27, 1979 the day the Soviets invade.</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/02/lost-found.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYOPGWXFmqYYn8TMqHvHUJfWeB_VoLUgeEVqiwbZ30tZzgIxGXIrz80GYJZwT7nyyc87lJ2OwZHWILcgqEqV8zOVowCY3kX-l8_1-qTKnuHteGZoCKOuGo9Yic8bj0TibbK0JMBuYQPk/s72-c/Lost+%26+found.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5509236708432566878</guid><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jan 2010 19:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-10-31T10:17:09.562-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Danny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Kathmandu</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Moscow</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">passport</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">taxi</category><title>THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUWYTZBCvLbbFPF61gIqvzcfdni6rZXs1AUjD3opjg37fpfycBIOj1IxYauZR2Y-9rt5l2kw8-wkMxTurtLJu8rKeuLvGYbjdM7WultrjW9iX_1m-UDQ2Km7_HftuZXnRCrxY9kOtGPxw/s1600-h/thing-called-love.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 319px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUWYTZBCvLbbFPF61gIqvzcfdni6rZXs1AUjD3opjg37fpfycBIOj1IxYauZR2Y-9rt5l2kw8-wkMxTurtLJu8rKeuLvGYbjdM7WultrjW9iX_1m-UDQ2Km7_HftuZXnRCrxY9kOtGPxw/s320/thing-called-love.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432998207939082674&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;strong&gt;If you’re one of those people that think that love is the answer to having complete and total happiness and satisfaction in life, then we would do anything to have it…right?&lt;br /&gt;
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You’d think! But love isn’t that easy to find even if love is just down the street. What if you’re not even carrying the same passport? And when conflicts arise in a relationship, what happens then? But I get ahead of myself…plenty of time for relationship matters…compromises to endure and persevere, for better or for worse.&lt;br /&gt;
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What I’m talking about is when you do find love and you have to pursue, and to orchestrate and facilitate and go way out of your way for love…those are the things we do for. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRP55QBFwdIRDBKa3WpXDhTGzZx9vsTO318TvIcA26TciIIW_sdkBVwYzfpjuV6OHeUaIycSwUUaU6nM8XPw573K3WRCIYkmgaor9z8dd3yooJnA5J6t9OY3w3_oAHnryt68-grB4VwU/s1600-h/airplane.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRP55QBFwdIRDBKa3WpXDhTGzZx9vsTO318TvIcA26TciIIW_sdkBVwYzfpjuV6OHeUaIycSwUUaU6nM8XPw573K3WRCIYkmgaor9z8dd3yooJnA5J6t9OY3w3_oAHnryt68-grB4VwU/s320/airplane.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432997976300815570&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I once took a 36 hour plane ride from Kathmandu, via stops in India and then to Moscow. There was a free breakfast at four in the morning, with big beefy and mean looking soldiers armed in the Moscow airport. Then a plane ride to Paris, a train ride to Grenoble and a taxi to an apartment in the &lt;em&gt;banlieue&lt;/em&gt;. There, what I thought was love waiting for me, was a letter telling me to go away. I didn’t. The things we do for love.&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoq06Oe2TjIYOqRASjRksRBHHsBRbRW6g47uiQu6c5-rWgjdUgBTKe3FWp_QvzXD7dy2tA2kyNeXXdywiZcAaZhlZ7Gdp-_gvT2gR7ECXpLPbe1jCZPn_JjKC5jmfqt4dwEfR0xjI1BGU/s1600-h/dear_john.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoq06Oe2TjIYOqRASjRksRBHHsBRbRW6g47uiQu6c5-rWgjdUgBTKe3FWp_QvzXD7dy2tA2kyNeXXdywiZcAaZhlZ7Gdp-_gvT2gR7ECXpLPbe1jCZPn_JjKC5jmfqt4dwEfR0xjI1BGU/s320/dear_john.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432997744391364226&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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In OVERLAND, Danny does the most incredible and maybe &lt;em&gt;dim&lt;/em&gt; things for love. But in the end, it was all worth it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mark Stephen Levy published his novel Overland in 2009, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan on December, 27, 1979 the day the Soviets invade.&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/01/things-we-do-for-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUWYTZBCvLbbFPF61gIqvzcfdni6rZXs1AUjD3opjg37fpfycBIOj1IxYauZR2Y-9rt5l2kw8-wkMxTurtLJu8rKeuLvGYbjdM7WultrjW9iX_1m-UDQ2Km7_HftuZXnRCrxY9kOtGPxw/s72-c/thing-called-love.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-8670149582931684751</guid><pubDate>Sat, 23 Jan 2010 14:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-23T07:35:44.848-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">countries</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cyber</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">global community</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">India</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">russia</category><title>OVERLAND AROUND THE WORLD</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_KEV2xzTL8LjKZalVbyqVa2VXy_osce8svpWyRBFts2Ll-kHIpPZYOpR7zTgPjxfU6-zM4kF30EoE-NMZRD6hU5tCFK4y0l72iitL2tmbkz3qyMO960thyphenhyphenVYfIPe662nhg-3ajCVz_I/s1600-h/cyber+world.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_KEV2xzTL8LjKZalVbyqVa2VXy_osce8svpWyRBFts2Ll-kHIpPZYOpR7zTgPjxfU6-zM4kF30EoE-NMZRD6hU5tCFK4y0l72iitL2tmbkz3qyMO960thyphenhyphenVYfIPe662nhg-3ajCVz_I/s320/cyber+world.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429942232542933714&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The cyber global community is just that…a community not unlike a small town’s town square. Just that we are all scattered out there and all over. This Overland blog has been up since last September and the Overland website a month before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some interesting statistics from the countries that has visited the Overland website since January 1st:&lt;br /&gt;Countries Pages Hits&lt;br /&gt;Unknown ip 581 899&lt;br /&gt;Network net 342 1328&lt;br /&gt;Commercial 328 916&lt;br /&gt;Unknown local 124 124&lt;br /&gt;Russia   51 51&lt;br /&gt;Germany  34 34&lt;br /&gt;India  30 128&lt;br /&gt;Australia 11 50&lt;br /&gt;Canada  9 49&lt;br /&gt;Slovak Republic 8 28&lt;br /&gt;Bulgaria 8 45&lt;br /&gt;Belgium  7 26&lt;br /&gt;Netherlands 7 27&lt;br /&gt;Non-Profit  6 28&lt;br /&gt;Indonesia 4 24&lt;br /&gt;Seychelles 2 2&lt;br /&gt;Colombia 2 2&lt;br /&gt;Brazil  1 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LnEOwrpMUnN0rfTyekKkc6-Ge7VvHdPjQBcGN4b-vxMzKam8skYjfYYfohyb9HCNP7F2mCHXuUmt7sgaaMVgRu0aIMuajokv8hWbDRroRshZxCziX_VROCBsYi9kbzVQVc_BVjwEILE/s1600-h/global-world-flags1.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 274px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LnEOwrpMUnN0rfTyekKkc6-Ge7VvHdPjQBcGN4b-vxMzKam8skYjfYYfohyb9HCNP7F2mCHXuUmt7sgaaMVgRu0aIMuajokv8hWbDRroRshZxCziX_VROCBsYi9kbzVQVc_BVjwEILE/s320/global-world-flags1.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429941993945116258&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fascinating! Like the medal count of an Olympics.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Dear Readers are on the front end of what will become the truly global heartfelt story that is OVERLAND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy published his novel Overland in 2009, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan on December, 27, 1979 the day the Soviets invade.&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/01/cyber-global-community-is-just-thata.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_KEV2xzTL8LjKZalVbyqVa2VXy_osce8svpWyRBFts2Ll-kHIpPZYOpR7zTgPjxfU6-zM4kF30EoE-NMZRD6hU5tCFK4y0l72iitL2tmbkz3qyMO960thyphenhyphenVYfIPe662nhg-3ajCVz_I/s72-c/cyber+world.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5300618374941375254</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 22:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-16T15:47:01.006-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">A Clockwork Orange</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">fried chicken</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lentils</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Paris</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">survival</category><title>ALTERED TASTES</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkk0JuX41zbVlskpABB2ebc7UJPOgz5FHTY3loyy7KwVLL0S5SGb65IZz8JDke9DkP80v_hkTOjE6l9TC3LqKMtRdxyCjxl7yrQcVcuVlAkrpytcC4iJPSTZ0-r-bR4p1RM3c1xKuwZw/s1600-h/fried+chicken.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkk0JuX41zbVlskpABB2ebc7UJPOgz5FHTY3loyy7KwVLL0S5SGb65IZz8JDke9DkP80v_hkTOjE6l9TC3LqKMtRdxyCjxl7yrQcVcuVlAkrpytcC4iJPSTZ0-r-bR4p1RM3c1xKuwZw/s320/fried+chicken.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427472837348259474&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The last time I had fried chicken was almost five years ago after a night of debauchery and ultra-violence. I always wanted to say that ever since “A Clockwork Orange” became an instant classic. For the record, it wasn’t really debauchery and ultra-violence except what was imposed upon my system.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The greasy components draped within this chicken tasted absolutely delicious. “I was cured alright”. The ills that the night produced just seemed to go away after consuming that chicken, however I have not had fried chicken since. Our tastes change over time, maybe our bodies even dictate what’s good for us, and what’s not. &lt;br /&gt;The food we eat effects how we are, and over time we have learned what food is good, and what is not. In OVERLAND, Danny spent so much time in a foreign land in the east that his tastes altered so much that couldn’t adapt back to western tastes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He lifts one of the metal plate covers and underneath is a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. He takes a bite of the chicken, and puts it down in disgust. The American food tastes strange as his pallet has completely converted to Eastern tastes. He covers up the food with the metal plate. He calls room service and orders lentil soup and rice as he is incapable of eating what they provided for him. There isn’t any lentil soup but there is chicken noodle. It will have to do. While waiting for room service, he turns on the TV, and happens to catch a news story about himself, and his arrival in Paris. The story is a watery over-glamorized version of what he really lived.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3szt9FBz5lVaWymvBnEub_p7QebGJKgowlsYw0rSl0GXUuUxUKfpguFeyskYD2wxA5lk5MBXYsQTRI4zMgHIVJ89_EOrEHKS3eqYXxQUwoM8reVmvRERKkan-DbJ6acZUkboacLPAjM/s1600-h/lentils.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3szt9FBz5lVaWymvBnEub_p7QebGJKgowlsYw0rSl0GXUuUxUKfpguFeyskYD2wxA5lk5MBXYsQTRI4zMgHIVJ89_EOrEHKS3eqYXxQUwoM8reVmvRERKkan-DbJ6acZUkboacLPAjM/s320/lentils.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427472599849638082&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We change with the times, sometimes because we want to, sometimes because we have to. Survival. That’s what it’s all about.  See how Danny survives his trials and tribulations in OVERLAND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy recently published his novel Overland, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan on December, 27, 1979&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/01/altered-tastes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkk0JuX41zbVlskpABB2ebc7UJPOgz5FHTY3loyy7KwVLL0S5SGb65IZz8JDke9DkP80v_hkTOjE6l9TC3LqKMtRdxyCjxl7yrQcVcuVlAkrpytcC4iJPSTZ0-r-bR4p1RM3c1xKuwZw/s72-c/fried+chicken.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5798263490889813627</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 Jan 2010 18:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-09T11:30:23.687-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">isolation</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">seclusion</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">travelers</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">traveling adventure</category><title>IF IT HURTS IT’S PROBABLY WORTH IT</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKGB3lUGSmlLCaYPjTEulDwWwgRipU5VI6TuJVd_ZTQp83Gfg-Iww3yLLH6DzgvdWeGP5x4bvkNAOSArayH1JZx4vy4CpC8RRGrVMyIoKcXZt-tzC2t1RybowkmNq0h_JQPdRXY_UvpI/s1600-h/seclusion.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKGB3lUGSmlLCaYPjTEulDwWwgRipU5VI6TuJVd_ZTQp83Gfg-Iww3yLLH6DzgvdWeGP5x4bvkNAOSArayH1JZx4vy4CpC8RRGrVMyIoKcXZt-tzC2t1RybowkmNq0h_JQPdRXY_UvpI/s320/seclusion.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424808073120850674&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Being a long term traveler means one thing: the more time spent on the road means the more encounters and experiences you will have. Most will be pleasant, amazing, and memorable. But some could be real painful. These are the memories that somehow become the most unforgettable…and not meant to be in a bad way: just more profound and life transforming.  And when you come out of it to the other side of it, you become free from the pain and hurt and life begins anew. And I don’t mean physical pain, although the third world can pack a punch with some serious intestinal issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m talking about mental and spiritual growth…these are the growing pains one experiences being on the road for any length of time: Loneliness. Alienation.  Estrangement. Isolation. Remoteness. Seclusion. Detachment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome! Highly recommended. The rest of your life will be so much more rewarding because you will remember where you came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijw_NPqm7Lfn-sxrK5lWZ5Z_GiwbbzEnPjbym5jJ6E0PIqmKhuSsLubbKcAwoxLe_d7HG2yxqP2eIXhN6irGFG2VpGp7JRHcVrcdOWNJvVeAVzvGEfHFnmPyRFr7mGcKV3VsD0fBlPqHU/s1600-h/otherside.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 294px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijw_NPqm7Lfn-sxrK5lWZ5Z_GiwbbzEnPjbym5jJ6E0PIqmKhuSsLubbKcAwoxLe_d7HG2yxqP2eIXhN6irGFG2VpGp7JRHcVrcdOWNJvVeAVzvGEfHFnmPyRFr7mGcKV3VsD0fBlPqHU/s320/otherside.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424807411415003954&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you read OVERLAND, you will see how Danny’s character growth evolves during his lengthy adventures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so will yours and if it hurts along the way, it’s probably worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy recently published his novel Overland, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan  on December, 27, 1979&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/01/if-it-hurts-its-probably-worth-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKGB3lUGSmlLCaYPjTEulDwWwgRipU5VI6TuJVd_ZTQp83Gfg-Iww3yLLH6DzgvdWeGP5x4bvkNAOSArayH1JZx4vy4CpC8RRGrVMyIoKcXZt-tzC2t1RybowkmNq0h_JQPdRXY_UvpI/s72-c/seclusion.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-4746681519384236747</guid><pubDate>Sun, 03 Jan 2010 14:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-12-26T10:29:17.956-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">&quot;aha moment&quot;</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Istanbul</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kansas</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">middle east</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">morocco</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">tangiers</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">wake up call</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">wizard of oz</category><title>SOMETIMES IT ONLY TAKES AN INSTANT …. </title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOnZXmJLFn8igt-nTZfZKndDJv7bj1xb_VO7wQeyEq77HUlKH-g_N355lRFxBvrY6diBkdQwt_pYdEW3NnnYpcdFPoJNlNaK74c9Bbf6kI6oH2QVoVpXd0rAaJr0sBPdmQVVfg18anXk/s1600-h/muzzein.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOnZXmJLFn8igt-nTZfZKndDJv7bj1xb_VO7wQeyEq77HUlKH-g_N355lRFxBvrY6diBkdQwt_pYdEW3NnnYpcdFPoJNlNaK74c9Bbf6kI6oH2QVoVpXd0rAaJr0sBPdmQVVfg18anXk/s320/muzzein.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422527676749036722&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;…for life to change. It could be anything, a frozen moment in time that alters your life forever.  An observance, an experience, something that you will remember forever because it changed everything you had thought you knew. For me it was entering the Middle East for the first time. Hearing the call of the Muezzin, the man that calls all of Islam to pray five times a day, and is called over a loud speaker so all can hear, is an eerie one. It is a compelling sound. It is a spiritual sound. It was my wake up call. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instantly I was drawn to the sound while having my “I was not in Kansas anymore” moment. And something I will never forget. It was a cue for me to realize all we knew back in the homeland of the west, was not this. It was my cultural wake up call, and I liked it! &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmDq0xMtYrAot1T3VOyQzDbOwOQF1z6H4aw2pmwLK1AJruuxBeJROnv-Rpe0KYMj4uALS7jcGGqg8Md49i1XXc-SJgJGx0JXwflbFkehF2jObRoNBfxOfDEZVNVwty67O9K_XO_ik7nE/s1600-h/tangiers+port.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmDq0xMtYrAot1T3VOyQzDbOwOQF1z6H4aw2pmwLK1AJruuxBeJROnv-Rpe0KYMj4uALS7jcGGqg8Md49i1XXc-SJgJGx0JXwflbFkehF2jObRoNBfxOfDEZVNVwty67O9K_XO_ik7nE/s320/tangiers+port.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422527500460978706&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few blog posts ago, I wrote that “we are what we write”.  There were many travelers’ moments I recalled when writing OVERLAND. This was a forceful one. I had crossed from the South of Spain through the Straits of Gibraltar, a 45 minute ferry boat ride to the northern tip of Africa in a country called Morocco. Tangiers is the gateway city in Morocco where one can experience a cultural quantum shift faster than a winter sunset. It was my first moments in the Middle East. Within minutes and without any prior awareness and expectations, the supernatural sounds of the call to prayer radiated throughout and I was transformed forever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWnnynJvQqrSXo0qqsjrgOlDy4JEyizl8iICCgAXnPWc2QNj5j_TkF0PysEz3swHpK6veSeLPSHmdiYapLjQTg1Zf4DzPXRzjnZlVSmj5n8QIAwJicbow0dZkayacVsV4j29g82n5rLc/s1600-h/istanbul_01.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWnnynJvQqrSXo0qqsjrgOlDy4JEyizl8iICCgAXnPWc2QNj5j_TkF0PysEz3swHpK6veSeLPSHmdiYapLjQTg1Zf4DzPXRzjnZlVSmj5n8QIAwJicbow0dZkayacVsV4j29g82n5rLc/s320/istanbul_01.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422527222850879810&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Danny had the same experience in OVERLAND when entering Istanbul, Turkey. When he heard the call for the first time, everything stopped. He shifted his head a little, and was never going to be the same again. What it did do, was allow for him to experience and embrace all that he was going to live and experience that followed this moment. He embraced it, all of it, and made him a much better man along the way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What was your wake up call, your “I’m not in Kansas anymore moment?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mark Stephen Levy recently published his novel Overland, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul, Afghanistan December, 27, 1979&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes-it-only-takes-instant.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOnZXmJLFn8igt-nTZfZKndDJv7bj1xb_VO7wQeyEq77HUlKH-g_N355lRFxBvrY6diBkdQwt_pYdEW3NnnYpcdFPoJNlNaK74c9Bbf6kI6oH2QVoVpXd0rAaJr0sBPdmQVVfg18anXk/s72-c/muzzein.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-2092031304590640004</guid><pubDate>Sat, 26 Dec 2009 18:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-26T12:12:32.820-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">1979</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Afghanistan</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Charlie Wilson&#39;s War</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">CIA</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">December 27</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Iran</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">moon landing</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Soviet Union</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Three Mile Island</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Woodstock</category><title>IT WAS 30 YEARS AGO TODAY- WHY DEC.27, 1979 MATTERS</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZtxHiawHj1noXmYswV2TZoB_95oiwhnhTDfPEWJx5UpqPdAk8L7zxk8f1zL-mXByLDrfIItFpHw9W1h21-fAQ0KW1m9Qg-5TR_BlsjaOAIAT7x25qUfGEPUGTvMucO_C-81X77-lrg8/s1600-h/panic+in+the+streets.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZtxHiawHj1noXmYswV2TZoB_95oiwhnhTDfPEWJx5UpqPdAk8L7zxk8f1zL-mXByLDrfIItFpHw9W1h21-fAQ0KW1m9Qg-5TR_BlsjaOAIAT7x25qUfGEPUGTvMucO_C-81X77-lrg8/s320/panic+in+the+streets.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419622806864128962&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We always acknowledge and like to remember anniversaries of certain historical events. This year, we marked the 40th anniversary of the first manned landing on the moon as well as the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. Last year we noted the 30th anniversary of Jonestown in Guyana.&lt;br /&gt;In 1979, there were many newsworthy events and some of those events continue to affect the geo-political world today. The Shah of Iran was sent into exile and the Ayatollah Khomeini returned to Iran from exile, while Iranian “students” stormed and held 53 US embassy staff employees hostage. ABC’s nightline was born and counted the days ultimately resulting in 444 days of captive activity. Needless to say, we have been at odds with Iran ever since. Day one was November 4th, 1979. Saddam Hussein took power in Iraq in 1979. In the US, Three Mile Island, the worst nuclear disaster in US history occurred. And Sony released the cassette Walkman and set the stage for portable music other than a radio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvV22NcIR3ADl6TMxA27cPOJrShP7EnqdM03lQnnlUrMsPRWhIPK9gureMrJ5t-6v901DUUHVbAG7AwkgEP8A7NtaqBpkn0-Oq46oj7nbFB02arGIE_-WnvXfYkF92_aahf_-st1VscY/s1600-h/russian-army-withdrawing-from-afghanistan.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvV22NcIR3ADl6TMxA27cPOJrShP7EnqdM03lQnnlUrMsPRWhIPK9gureMrJ5t-6v901DUUHVbAG7AwkgEP8A7NtaqBpkn0-Oq46oj7nbFB02arGIE_-WnvXfYkF92_aahf_-st1VscY/s320/russian-army-withdrawing-from-afghanistan.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623010610473730&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But on December 27, 1979 at 7pm, 700 Soviet troops dressed in Afghan uniforms, occupied major governmental, military and media buildings in Kabul, Afghanistan including their primary target - the Tajbeg Presidential Palace and Afghan president Hafizullah Amin was assassinated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afghanistan, so ever present in the news and on the minds of Americans today, was at peace back then. The Soviets continued to occupy the country until February 1989, almost 10 years of occupation. In that time, the cold war between the Soviet Union and the United States escalated into such a serious atmosphere that world peace was at stake. The US countered the Soviets with CIA funded and armed operations for the Afghans, the Mujahadeen, and Afghan Freedom Fighters to fend off the mighty Soviet Army. This was known as Charlie Wilson’s War.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpeOfgaXvNy48ojglOPFFvKjdXWKxsqrmRqWqJ-bLcvV9EfJGmmkyAfeCPX-9gmeeCg7AbqooQnHk3TRlOSPeztOxhQAWDc7AN7ihcTGkIN3MDQNVVFeiuC_VO75OLe3mFj58jqr7Los/s1600-h/Afghanistan+map.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 276px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpeOfgaXvNy48ojglOPFFvKjdXWKxsqrmRqWqJ-bLcvV9EfJGmmkyAfeCPX-9gmeeCg7AbqooQnHk3TRlOSPeztOxhQAWDc7AN7ihcTGkIN3MDQNVVFeiuC_VO75OLe3mFj58jqr7Los/s320/Afghanistan+map.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623225341536498&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Danny, our hero in Overland, was first hand witness to this event. In fact, he found himself right in the middle of it. He couldn’t escape Kabul that day as most of the other Western travelers did. Find out how Danny outwit and survived the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan on December 27, 1979 by reading OVERLAND. &lt;br /&gt;You will be absolutely amazed what happens next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy recently published his novel Overland, a fictional account of an American stranded in Kabul on December, 27, 1979&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-was-30-years-ago-today-why-dec27.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZtxHiawHj1noXmYswV2TZoB_95oiwhnhTDfPEWJx5UpqPdAk8L7zxk8f1zL-mXByLDrfIItFpHw9W1h21-fAQ0KW1m9Qg-5TR_BlsjaOAIAT7x25qUfGEPUGTvMucO_C-81X77-lrg8/s72-c/panic+in+the+streets.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5168321852873798654</guid><pubDate>Sat, 19 Dec 2009 13:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-19T07:14:45.686-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">1980 Summer Olympics</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Afghanistan</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Soviet Union</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">US State Department</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Washington DC</category><title>OVERLAND - CHAPTER TWO</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_oIEAVxEYgp299Nw5UiNliS-n42jqTL4FYQhVFlwuRhBCbmSmlsUbaeqirgtNj9WB8m03aM7Pk3uQ7H61GyvJjsx7sQHbpjiWq952rfd3_Bcdtr8X0hQnrg4lv6egfbcJXhyphenhyphenWE9hI5g/s1600-h/at+bar+ii.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_oIEAVxEYgp299Nw5UiNliS-n42jqTL4FYQhVFlwuRhBCbmSmlsUbaeqirgtNj9WB8m03aM7Pk3uQ7H61GyvJjsx7sQHbpjiWq952rfd3_Bcdtr8X0hQnrg4lv6egfbcJXhyphenhyphenWE9hI5g/s320/at+bar+ii.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416948126984699426&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ELEVEN YEARS LATER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s another Wednesday night at the State Bar and Grill in Washington&lt;br /&gt;DC. This chic hangout is where the people of the US State Department&lt;br /&gt;come to socialize and carry out their after hours business of politics,&lt;br /&gt;diplomacy, information gathering and explicit socializing. It is a sedated&lt;br /&gt;atmosphere atop a feel good setting. Solving one international incident&lt;br /&gt;after another tends to make one numb. At the State Bar and Grill, all is&lt;br /&gt;not forgotten, but at least the edge has been softened thanks to plenty of alcohol. The room is smoky, reminiscent of a 1930&#39;s speakeasy. &lt;br /&gt;Conversation fills the room, some laughter, some backslapping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     At the end of the bar sits Heather Matheson and James Weatherby.&lt;br /&gt;Heather is a striking young lady in her late twenties, with blond hair&lt;br /&gt;cut in a longish bob. Her eyes are a bright cerulean blue, the charms&lt;br /&gt;of a pretty face atop a fit and feminine body. She wears a loose fitting&lt;br /&gt;blouse and stylish pants with jet black stiletto heels. Even in the dark,&lt;br /&gt;one could find Heather in those shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     When meeting her for the first time, one struggles to know exactly where to look at her as she transmits quite a compelling figure. She is well aware of this fact, and yet does not know how to put the person at ease. By now she should have been able to combine elegance with her physical beauty, but she has not. &lt;br /&gt;James is a good-looking man in his late 30&#39;s, tall, rugged, pretty much a man&#39;s man. He wears a customary dark suit and red power tie. They sit at the bar engaged in casual conversation, nothing serious, nothing humorous. Heather lets her drink sit in front of her, while James asks for another. The nightly news plays on a muted TV, and no one pays it much attention. After all, the majority of the news is already&lt;br /&gt;known among the clientele of this bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     But something on the screen catches Heather&#39;s attention. She shouts for Jake the bartender to turn it up, as he hits the volume button. The news anchor, voice suddenly restored, continues his report:&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxqL9j0PC3rFNMfP-1Tle-W30cAW6xt6cWTejgRwGrod8Lapq9acfVV8XoGAg_ZVmWftf9bh_usmnf4uJ6YZx1-t2q9RlgqStlVT3fzeaMTCr2NMenuHbZnFBKrvCB7rW42MwFQhvws4/s1600-h/Soviet+invasion.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 191px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxqL9j0PC3rFNMfP-1Tle-W30cAW6xt6cWTejgRwGrod8Lapq9acfVV8XoGAg_ZVmWftf9bh_usmnf4uJ6YZx1-t2q9RlgqStlVT3fzeaMTCr2NMenuHbZnFBKrvCB7rW42MwFQhvws4/s320/Soviet+invasion.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416948375414199074&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &quot;...For the first time in history the United States will boycott the&lt;br /&gt;Olympics. Because the 1980 summer games are to be held in Moscow&lt;br /&gt;the US has taken this position to protest the Soviet&#39;s invasion and&lt;br /&gt;occupation of Afghanistan. President Jimmy Carter made the following&lt;br /&gt;statement: &#39;The Soviet Union invasion of Afghanistan has violated the&lt;br /&gt;principles of the Olympics.&#39;&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Heather and James look at each other, silently acknowledging the story. The anchor continues:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;In related news, we have breaking reports that an unidentified&lt;br /&gt;American, stranded in Afghanistan since the onset of the Soviet invasion, has escaped Afghanistan with assistance from the Soviet Military.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;That&#39;s Danny!&quot; Heather shouts, verging on hysterics. The anchor continues:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;He is now en route back to the US. We will keep you updated as&lt;br /&gt;this story develops.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMZ_ZEQajYLJT4iYp0cgSQcySKA9RANMKp7d4Q8rRosYMYs4m4CUa04FnATfUHNH19LGhMIvdEmdqnJyH0EmB33mFTyiiX5to3UaZr8pdZwlZ2yDOVdffNE57GHYktecGrTABatJ_t0g/s1600-h/danny+relaesed.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMZ_ZEQajYLJT4iYp0cgSQcySKA9RANMKp7d4Q8rRosYMYs4m4CUa04FnATfUHNH19LGhMIvdEmdqnJyH0EmB33mFTyiiX5to3UaZr8pdZwlZ2yDOVdffNE57GHYktecGrTABatJ_t0g/s320/danny+relaesed.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416948568230345810&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Heather shakes her head, disbelieving. &quot;He&#39;s alive?&quot; She covers&lt;br /&gt;her mouth with her hands, struggling to maintain control even as her&lt;br /&gt;emotions surge. James looks at her, a mix of compassion and apprehension coating his eyes. He puts his hand on her shoulder, calmly says, &quot;I had no idea. I&#39;m as surprised as you are, Heather.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     She starts to protest but he interrupts. &quot;All the information we&lt;br /&gt;received from our sources indicated...&quot; James pauses to take another strong swallow of his drink. &quot;...that he died during the invasion.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silence swells with Heather&#39;s suspicions. James attempts to reassure her, but she protests, &quot;Your sources were wrong!&quot; Hurt and confused, sure, but she&#39;s reluctant to believe James could have lied to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &quot;In this line of work, there are no guarantees until they are absolutes,&quot; James states. The authority of his US State Department position is evident in his voice, but it falters at the end. She&#39;s not sure what that means. If James was attempting to calm her down, he&#39;s failed. Her mind spins a million miles a minute. &quot;I need to see him!&quot; James agrees. &quot;I know. We all do. The State Department will undoubtedly summon him to a debriefing. We need to know the situation over there.&quot; James stands. &quot;I need to make some calls.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     He leans over and plants a halfhearted kiss on her cheek. She looks him in the eye. &quot;I really hope you&#39;ve been honest with me.&quot; James leaves the bar to make his calls without another word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Danny, how did you survive all these months?&quot; Heather whispers, still staring at the TV. She finishes her drink and wonders what she&#39;s going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;strong&gt;o find out more about the book OVERLAND, link to www.overlandthebook.com&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.overlandthebook.com&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/12/overland-chapter-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_oIEAVxEYgp299Nw5UiNliS-n42jqTL4FYQhVFlwuRhBCbmSmlsUbaeqirgtNj9WB8m03aM7Pk3uQ7H61GyvJjsx7sQHbpjiWq952rfd3_Bcdtr8X0hQnrg4lv6egfbcJXhyphenhyphenWE9hI5g/s72-c/at+bar+ii.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-6213363827402023199</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-05T10:22:56.478-07:00</atom:updated><title>OVERLAND: OVERLAND - CHAPER ONE</title><description>www.overlandthebook.com</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/12/overland-overland-chaper-one.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-7862037865387509868</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-05T10:32:11.446-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Catholics</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Danny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Emily</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Northern Ireland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Protestants</category><title>OVERLAND - CHAPER ONE</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhtsy3SyeB9trQwKKGt-zCwe_QQCwsZMBHSyUlxKa_HuFdkbshL0TzFx8_Ly8_HK2B43w-DeUyoJMDXP7WgaC2CE-H1dJnqVpTnhhKJtfwyW4H1VyMOxn4XcGLEEXt1uB6ZPND8C_tS4/s1600-h/girl+on+a+swing.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhtsy3SyeB9trQwKKGt-zCwe_QQCwsZMBHSyUlxKa_HuFdkbshL0TzFx8_Ly8_HK2B43w-DeUyoJMDXP7WgaC2CE-H1dJnqVpTnhhKJtfwyW4H1VyMOxn4XcGLEEXt1uB6ZPND8C_tS4/s320/girl+on+a+swing.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411802295962474770&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tensions between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland were rising. Danny Benson knew that random acts of violence were part of the territory now, but he refused to dwell on the risk. The grand reunion between his immediate and extended family was too important to abandon. Despite the hazards, the tickets were booked and they moved ahead with the trip. Danny&#39;s father had long dreamed of introducing his wife and son to his brother and his family. The man had seen his brother only once since leaving Northern Ireland years ago, and he&#39;d never met his nieces and nephews. He told Danny it was time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Arriving, Danny was instantly captivated by the emerald greenery and old world charm which defined his father&#39;s homeland. It was his first time out of the United States. Discovering fresh landscapes, diverse and novel ways of life, was exhilarating. He spent the first few days of his trip exploring the cobblestone streets of Belfast, conversing with the townsfolk. He was met with brotherly reverence when they discovered that he&#39;d traveled to Northern Ireland to connect to his roots. He even went to a pub and enjoyed his first pint of beer. Something his friends would envy when he returned stateside. After all, he was just seventeen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The solidarity in the pub was endearing, at first. Then one of the locals, a burly man with a bushy red beard approached Danny. &quot;Whose side are you on, anyways? Catholics or Protestants?&quot; &quot;Well, I&#39;m a Catholic by birth, but...&quot; A huge roar erupted from the pub crowd. To them, Danny the American with Northern Irish roots was one of them. Catholic. &quot;I don&#39;t understand why sides need to be taken,&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;You should have been here in last week. We showed &#39;em, till the cops broke it up. That&#39;s why we&#39;re marching in Derry next week.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Why?&quot; Danny asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;This is our country, too.&quot; A mumbling hush overtook the pub as they turned Catholic ears on their rousting leader. &quot;Those bloody bastards are mixing it up, won&#39;t let us vote. And we don&#39;t much like discrimination. It&#39;s all right; we&#39;ll take care of &#39;em. Squash em&#39; like bugs, we will!&quot; The burly man ground his fist into his palm and the crowd exploded again in a collective wail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Danny was disturbed, confused at this will to violence that so moved these people. He now understood what the caution meant that random acts of violence were part of the territory now. For the first time since the emerald homeland cast its spell over him, he worried that his parents might have made the wrong decision in coming to Northern Ireland when they had. Apparently the lush greenery was a natural camouflage for the darkness seething underneath. They&#39;d walked into the middle of something in which he didn&#39;t want to play a part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;The march in Derry might get rambunctious,&quot; the man forewarned. Danny grimaced as he finished his beer, not from the bitter taste, but the dark festering mood of the country. He waved goodbye to the pub crowd, relieved to get out of there. Now as he walked the streets, the banners displayed everywhere fi nally made sense. They advertised: March in Derry August 12th&quot;. The signs made him shudder and hurried back to his hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    While the summer of 1969 played out its cultural revolution back home, Danny experienced the inauguration of another revolution in Northern Ireland. The upheaval brewing around him made it difficult to stay focused on more personal concerns. In a couple weeks he would start his senior year of high school. He had to achieve flawless grades if he expected to move on to a fine university and later medical school. He decided to play the rest of his trip safe, and spent most of it at his uncle&#39;s house getting to know his cousin Cathleen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      She too would be starting her fi nal year of high school, and she too was worried about making the grades to solidify a bright future. Th ese facts helped cement heir kinship. Often, Cathleen spoke of her best friend Emily. Her brilliant best friend. Kind and daring, smart and full of good humor. How she revered her, and how she missed her. Emily was away visiting her cousins in Derry. Danny knew Emily only through the portrait of Cathleen&#39;s words, but his concern for her safe return kept him staring at the ceiling at night, high school worries long forgotten. Trouble was building in Derry, and next week the turbulence was scheduled to explode when the Catholics marched. Cathleen would be crushed if anything happened to her dear friend, and Danny realized so would he. Such was the spell Emily&#39;s gentle-hearted reputation had cast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;When is your friend coming back from Derry?&quot; Danny asked one morning after a particularly restless night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Tomorrow, just in time for our picnic.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Good,&quot; he said, startled no more by his vast relief, than his boldness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He added, &quot;I want to meet her. You sure she&#39;s coming back?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Of course she is. She wants to meet you, too, Danny. Let me show you who she is. You&#39;ve never asked to see her picture.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Cathleen led Danny to her room. A picture collage featuring her many friends hung on the wall. Amongst many girls in many photos, one of them did capture his attention. &quot;Guess which one?&quot; Cathleen challenged. He pointed to a lovely young girl flying high on a park swing. &quot;Yes, that&#39;s my Emily,&quot; Cathleen affirmed. Danny skipped a breath. Once more Northern Ireland called to him, if only to introduce him to one more of its citizens. Emily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    On their final day of vacation, the entire clan went to a park in the countryside outside Belfast to have a farewell picnic. Nearby, a brook produced a tranquil soundtrack for the day. Like the storm brewing in Derry, dark thunderheads loomed in the distance, but come rain or high water, nothing could dampen Danny&#39;s mood. Emily was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    When Cathleen finally introduced the two, Danny forgot to be infatuated by her elegant beauty, so beguiled was he by her grace of self. She reached out to him, to shake hello. Her hand was velvet, her touch soft like the glow of her supple, flawless skin. Danny felt himself liquefy. What was this feeling growing inside him? He wanted to understand. He wanted to spend more time with Emily. But the introduction was brief. Cathleen hadn&#39;t seen Emily for two weeks, and she had every right to monopolize her best friend&#39;s attention. The two girls pulled away from the rest of the picnic, leaving Danny frozen like a soldier standing guard. Of course he wanted to join them, but he didn&#39;t move. He told himself he was being courteous, giving the girls some time to catch up. In reality, he was nervous. Beyond nervous. Petrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     As they walked away, Emily turned around to glance back at Danny. He grinned shyly at her, and in response she radiated a huge sunbeam of a smile. That smile and those eyes—lustrous eyes the color of the Irish countryside, and so happy—how they sparkled. He lost peripheral vision, felt transcended to another world. His fate was sealed. After gifting him a little finger flutter wave, Emily turned back to Cathleen, causing her glorious hair to dance. He was transfixed by her hair, the color of burnt sienna, transfi xed by the delicate curls which spilled past her shoulders, glossy and dazzling. Exquisite. Oh, this just wasn&#39;t any teenage obsession. This was life changing and Danny knew it. What amazed him most of all, Emily was aware of the feeling that she stirred in him and she let him know it. And he liked it. He liked the excitement, the rush of adrenaline through the heart. He was certain he stirred the same feelings in her. If only he could unfreeze his body, go over to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Ironically, his eyes did it all for him. His every glance found Emily. When Cathleen and Emily strolled back nd forth to the brook or the swing that was near, Danny&#39;s eyes followed. He tried to look away whenever he thought Emily sensed him watching, but she always caught him, reciprocating with girlish, fl eeting glances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The moment to say goodbye was fast approaching, along with it the everyday life of home and school in Los Angeles. Knowing Emily was here, Danny didn&#39;t want to leave; but, of course, he had to. His father called to him. Only five minutes remained before they had to depart for the airport. Time had gotten away from him. Other than their brief introduction earlier, Danny had not spoken to the girl with the luminescent green eyes and charismatic smile. Five minutes. His heart insisted on a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    At last he found the courage to approach her. She was alone, on the swing, just like in the picture he pinpointed on his cousin&#39;s wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Do you want a push?&quot; he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yes, as high as you can!&quot; Emily laughed. Danny reared back and gave Emily a big push. Maybe it was his pent up adrenaline. Maybe he wanted to impress her. Maybe it was his five minute time limit. He used too much force and launched her off the swing. She tumbled to the grass and he saw what he thought was terror on her face. If he&#39;d hurt her he&#39;d never forgive himself. He rushed to attend to her. Her knee was scraped but when he looked to her face he saw she was beaming that sunny smile. &quot;You don&#39;t know your own strength, Danny.&quot; Encouraged, holding up his index finger, he said, &quot;I&#39;ll be right back.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He removed some tissues from his pocket, ran to the picnic table for a cup of water to wet them down. He hurried back to Emily, knelt down and soothed her knee with the wet tissues. He carefully wiped away any excess drippings. &quot;This will stop the bleeding and prevent swelling,&quot; he told her. It was hard to keep his hand from shaking. Her legs were toned, the skin quite smooth. &quot;Feeling better?&quot; he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I am now, Danny,&quot; she assured him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Still, I feel awful.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&#39;s okay,&quot; she said, still smiling, &quot;I asked you to push me, I just didn&#39;t know you were so strong.&quot; She paused, regarded him with curiosity. Danny&#39;s regret was deep, but it was at once forgotten by Emily. She was engrossed on how thoroughly and skillfully he treated her knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;You know, Danny, you should be a doctor. You have a certain way of taking care. Quite gentle. I like that.&quot; He looked at her with surging wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&#39;s funny you say that. I&#39;m going to be.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I&#39;m glad, because I&#39;m going to be a nurse. We can treat people together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He was silent. They peered into each other&#39;s eyes. Danny wanted to kiss her but worried she would take off ense at such a brazen move. He was utterly mesmerized by her Irish charm, amazed at the happiness—pure joy!—he felt in her presence. He had never experienced such absorption. And everything felt so natural. Reminiscent of best friends who haven&#39;t seen each other in years, yet who only take an instant to rekindle. He understood Cathleen&#39;s awe of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Danny stood and took Emily&#39;s hands to assist her up from the grass. He thought again about kissing her when a bolt of lightning and clap of thunder triggered a drenching rain. Everyone began to scatter, to rush to their respective cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Come on, Emily,&quot; Danny shouted. He grabbed her hand and started to run to the car. But halfway there, Emily shouted, and pulled away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;My purse. I left it back at the swing.&quot; She turned back the way they&#39;d come and quickly disappeared into the torrential rain. The thunder was deafening, pummeling. At the car, his father told Danny to get in, that they were late for the airport. He was already backing out of their parking place. Crestfallen, Danny crawled in the backseat, no chance to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, Danny saw Emily running towards the cars, purse in hand. &quot;Wait!&quot; he said anxiously to his father. But he was too late. Emily leapt into the backseat of the car next to Danny&#39;s. With the car rolling away, Danny lowered the window in the back seat, and caught Emily&#39;s attention. Through the clear sheen of heavy rain, Danny made a wild hand gesture: he would write to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   She rolled down her window and shouted though the pelting rain, &quot;Yes...write me! Cathleen will send you my address.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last he saw of her was that beaming sunshine smile. Then both cars drove away. Rolling the window up, Danny sat dripping wet and satisfied. In one afternoon his life had changed. He now had no doubt that he wanted to study to become a doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than that, he wanted Emily for his own.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you like Chapter one, you can link to the Overland website, to read Chapter two below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/12/overland-chaper-one_05.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhtsy3SyeB9trQwKKGt-zCwe_QQCwsZMBHSyUlxKa_HuFdkbshL0TzFx8_Ly8_HK2B43w-DeUyoJMDXP7WgaC2CE-H1dJnqVpTnhhKJtfwyW4H1VyMOxn4XcGLEEXt1uB6ZPND8C_tS4/s72-c/girl+on+a+swing.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5306032932043620570</guid><pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 19:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-22T12:33:40.248-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">5 star reviews</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">adventure</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">OVERLAND a romantic story with historical adventure</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">part II</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">romance book</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sequel</category><title>&quot;A RADIANT ROMANCE IN A BREATHTAKING HISTORICAL ADVENTURE!&quot;</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7L5KZxymmqpFSNwcU-CwKLuKMXRgxjWezbPfnre4uZfJK3qCQ4DhXus-Q-gUh2CfWkj4Tta_UXUJm6eAIPCvQmeZDJ3-bDV-Y4-kkBzyI8V1KkPVH42OJVV8YktatFvSZFbyCsp3p64/s1600/5star.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 118px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7L5KZxymmqpFSNwcU-CwKLuKMXRgxjWezbPfnre4uZfJK3qCQ4DhXus-Q-gUh2CfWkj4Tta_UXUJm6eAIPCvQmeZDJ3-bDV-Y4-kkBzyI8V1KkPVH42OJVV8YktatFvSZFbyCsp3p64/s320/5star.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407013264097286802&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Normally I write about various themes of life that tie into Overland, such the characters, or actions, or events. But today&#39;s posting is a review I received today by a woman who does nothing but review books. Well, I&#39;m sure she does other things, but this is what she does for a living and I thought you would want to read it. And not so much because it is a great review, but it will give you some keen insights into the story of book, which ultimately, will make you want to read it. And by no means for the sale of the book. My faithful followers here are what I would call my friends and &quot;early adopters&quot;...those that were there for me from the start...and I thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, before we read on with this review, I want to share some news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m going to start working on Overland, the sequel, Part II. I can keep you up to date along the way, or an announcement at the time of publication. I don&#39;t know what is going to happen in Part II...certainly if you have an ideas or what you would like to see, please let me know....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, the review:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Stephen Levy takes his traveling adventures and his personal love story as he creates an incredible Masterpiece of war, history, and romance. The main character, Danny Benson is a man who makes the reader turn the pages as fast as the speed of lightning, and has the type of personality that would make your heart melt. As he rides the Magic Bus to Afghanistan in desperate search to find the woman he loves, along with answers to many questions about their relationship, unexpected circumstances changes his life forever. When Danny finds Heather, what else does he find? Did Heather ever find herself, and what else does she find? How did the Soviet invasion, and the bomb blast affect Danny&#39;s life? Which direction was Danny in, and was it the same direction Heather was in? Did unexpected events in Danny&#39;s life bring him happiness? Why did Danny want to go to Kathmadu?What does the blood stained blue scarf signify? Why was James arrested? What was considered paradise for Danny? Who is Vyasa, and what did he do for Danny? I highly recommend this novel to all fiction, historical fiction, and adventure lovers. The sweet scent of sizzling romance blossoms like a rose as the reader is taken on an interesting journey through the culture and beauty of different countries. Challenges are taken through many twists-and-turns, while war is looming as the pages become covered in drama. The plot is captivating, the story is delightful and the fascinating characters come to life in this unique, emotional roller-coaster ride. The author paints each page with excitement, danger, sorrow, and happiness. A colorful portrait is the result of an unforgettable story that&#39;s made for the movie screen. &quot;OVERLAND&quot; is as entertaining as GONE WITH THE WIND, as romantic as JERRY MAGUIRE, and as dramatic as&lt;br /&gt;THE DEER HUNTER with Robert Deniro.&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Author Geri Ahearn &lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/11/radiant-romance-in-breathtaking.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7L5KZxymmqpFSNwcU-CwKLuKMXRgxjWezbPfnre4uZfJK3qCQ4DhXus-Q-gUh2CfWkj4Tta_UXUJm6eAIPCvQmeZDJ3-bDV-Y4-kkBzyI8V1KkPVH42OJVV8YktatFvSZFbyCsp3p64/s72-c/5star.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-751248413027866576</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Nov 2009 15:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-15T08:49:24.708-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">destiny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">flat tire</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">girl</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">stranded</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">unexpected</category><title>BEING STRANDED</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSMZqsW-U-mZPCjc7LNuIslNCBCu3dWzZ6uO3bwmA5P9-NzsdYOfm1oySCn8OF73dnDiLwlQEsL4FfJYm4r44_KUtlL49lHm-RlOgCyaRhgetjowyA8AKDfKXdqb-AixIOlgJ4VB4_0w/s1600-h/climbers_stranded.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSMZqsW-U-mZPCjc7LNuIslNCBCu3dWzZ6uO3bwmA5P9-NzsdYOfm1oySCn8OF73dnDiLwlQEsL4FfJYm4r44_KUtlL49lHm-RlOgCyaRhgetjowyA8AKDfKXdqb-AixIOlgJ4VB4_0w/s320/climbers_stranded.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404357702160009586&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Being stranded is so unexpected. It’s the kind of situation you couldn’t anticipate at all.  And it can be incredibly nerve racking, or even life changing. It could be a flat tire on your car, and your spare tire is in worse shape. And say this situation is far from home, and your cell phone is dead…woof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, mentally stranded to where life just doesn’t seem to be moving ahead. Or, geographically stranded and can’t get out of where you are. It could be temporary, or permanent. So there you are, with an instant new life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what do you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny, in our story OVERLAND faces this very same issue. Of course he didn’t see it coming either…but it happened: Being stranded in a faraway place, knowing no one except the girl he went after, but wasn’t sure what happened to her after the…..well, &lt;em&gt;unexpected&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the circumstances he does with the situation he found himself in, will amaze the reader. And in the end, he becomes a better man, evolved, wise, loving…and has followed his destiny. The destiny he didn’t know until he was stranded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been stranded to where your life turned out better?&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/11/being-stranded.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSMZqsW-U-mZPCjc7LNuIslNCBCu3dWzZ6uO3bwmA5P9-NzsdYOfm1oySCn8OF73dnDiLwlQEsL4FfJYm4r44_KUtlL49lHm-RlOgCyaRhgetjowyA8AKDfKXdqb-AixIOlgJ4VB4_0w/s72-c/climbers_stranded.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-8830585353872823801</guid><pubDate>Sat, 31 Oct 2009 21:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-31T16:24:42.593-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">1960&#39;s</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Kathmandu</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Magic Bus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Maharishi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Beatles</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Who</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">transcendental meditation</category><title>THE LAST MAGIC BUS</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbGeQ4vPVL2OMa001drenST1V_TqjJIdCIJzGUj8Y_21PEdnEDwu07yevQTVktALXtgWYoXFK6YHM-gCu7NqUxDizPV0ZpwTwY_jdJGuvRh_rAAKHYE_OvCXsjpZuNplxp35o5JJrkb8/s1600-h/magic-bus1.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbGeQ4vPVL2OMa001drenST1V_TqjJIdCIJzGUj8Y_21PEdnEDwu07yevQTVktALXtgWYoXFK6YHM-gCu7NqUxDizPV0ZpwTwY_jdJGuvRh_rAAKHYE_OvCXsjpZuNplxp35o5JJrkb8/s320/magic-bus1.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398891714961384882&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What would first come to mind reading these words is one of greatest hits towards the end of the 1960’s from the rock group The Who, &lt;em&gt;Magic Bus&lt;/em&gt;: “Get on the bus that takes me to you”, was a key line from the song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real Magic Bus was an old rickety bus that traveled from Europe &lt;em&gt;overland&lt;/em&gt; all the way to Kathmandu, the capital city of Nepal, covering a distance of over 5000 miles. To compare, the US from coast to coast is 3000 miles. You can imagine there are multiple countries and cultures along this long and circuitous route. Interest in the “magical and mysterious east” was initiated when The Beatles flew to India to meditate in the Himalayas with the guru of the 1960’s, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. The Maharishi introduced the Transcendental Meditation technique, which was part of the overall Cultural Revolution of the 1960’s, and beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course The Beatles were the definitive culture setters’ and soundtrack of the times. Their trip to India set the stage and opened the cultural door for disenchanted Westerners to head east. Money was an object, so flying was not an option. The Magic Bus became a conduit to go east “on the cheap”.&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, the bus would pass through Western Europe, Eastern Europe, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India and finally Nepal. It was a long way away, geographically, culturally and spiritually from the west. Once in Kathmandu, and various Himalayan towns, and coastal beaches of India, returning home wasn’t an option either. Stories of burying their passports emerged, settling in, staying put, or roaming around…in the east. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KvvexBV914y2LOPlxoaViDYfzAekQEoHV0xiGTcKqLMUBVvm-nV4DdX7tkPL7lpNcx6F0NqtVJpOlUJZBVg2MfuqzrvMwma8oMY-RzOpw__3nHTmlXRs60iWGmCu31182bTU0YOMD-k/s1600-h/himalayas.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KvvexBV914y2LOPlxoaViDYfzAekQEoHV0xiGTcKqLMUBVvm-nV4DdX7tkPL7lpNcx6F0NqtVJpOlUJZBVg2MfuqzrvMwma8oMY-RzOpw__3nHTmlXRs60iWGmCu31182bTU0YOMD-k/s320/himalayas.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398891514551567874&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book OVERLAND, Heather had the call of the east. She rejected Danny’s proposal to marry her, and decided to take the Magic Bus to Kathmandu. But the year was 1979, and the world was changing. What was this lure that compelled Heather so much to take “the last” Magic Bus? Of course she didn’t know it at the time that it was to be the last run…but it was. What happened? What caused her bus to be the last one? History, history happened.  And she and Danny got caught up in it. &lt;br /&gt;I wonder: has anybody ever ridden the original Magic Bus? Has anybody ever been caught up in the front end of history?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Comments are welcome…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To view the OVERLAND book trailer, please link to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGnjRx4gHSI&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/10/last-magic-bus.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbGeQ4vPVL2OMa001drenST1V_TqjJIdCIJzGUj8Y_21PEdnEDwu07yevQTVktALXtgWYoXFK6YHM-gCu7NqUxDizPV0ZpwTwY_jdJGuvRh_rAAKHYE_OvCXsjpZuNplxp35o5JJrkb8/s72-c/magic-bus1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-4045003394454810407</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Oct 2009 01:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-12-04T14:07:01.240-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">1979</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Afghanistan</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">disco</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">England</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Iran</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Iraq</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lord Mountbatten</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">michael jackson</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Northern Ireland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">peace and love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Soviet Union</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Three Mile Island</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">world traveling</category><title>BACK IN THE CAREFREE DAYS OF LA DE DA</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwL3aWQguawR-vclo0BuVc2atFK4Jv672pXRWQqFQxO2flsx1Cy7e_qRjAv6_Zdw4HDKh5IGPYWmdzrtmFFJQVNKPAdMorLC94F5BxdH_ieQMTtjSvUeIUexkZhyvADmBJxrD5tFHjNw/s1600-h/1979.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwL3aWQguawR-vclo0BuVc2atFK4Jv672pXRWQqFQxO2flsx1Cy7e_qRjAv6_Zdw4HDKh5IGPYWmdzrtmFFJQVNKPAdMorLC94F5BxdH_ieQMTtjSvUeIUexkZhyvADmBJxrD5tFHjNw/s320/1979.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396338759825939682&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;World traveling changed in 1979. Up until that most pivotal of years, anyone that wanted to roam the world carefree could. One was able to cross &lt;em&gt;overland&lt;/em&gt; pretty much wherever the wind blew. It is such a wonderful feeling to “tramp about” within anywhere in the world. Iran? Iraq? Yes. Afghanistan? Yes. But not anymore. Within that region’s current generation, and maybe the next, it is most likely you may never be able to set foot and have a cup of tea in any of these countries as a world traveler. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why does it even matter that you can’t go there anymore? Because the world has become a precarious place, and is a testimony to the times that traveling about freely cannot take place. For back then, the entire world was mostly care free….until 1979. Culturally in our world back then, Michael Jackson had emerged as a superstar. The fire at the nuclear plant Three Mile Island accident happened in Pennsylvania, and Lord Mountbatten of England was assassinated which sparked “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What also happened in 1979? Iran became the extremist Republic that it is and became unfriendly to the west. The Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan which immediately shut off the overland trial from Europe to Asia. It also set the stage for what is happening there today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What is the point to this look back into thirty years ago? To just know and have a better understanding of what occurred back then, and put in perspective to what is taking place today. The world was a simpler time back then. It was the transition to the remnants of the disco and peace and love era, and about to enter a different era, an oil shock era, and inflationary era, a menacing era. Ah me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our hero Danny in OVERLAND was compelled to go after Heather and their chase across two continents ensued in that part of the world….in 1979. Timing is everything in life, either good or bad. In Danny’s case, it was both. Being in the wrong place in the wrong time usually has lasting consequences or scars or memories that become a milestone marker of your life. And so it did happen to Danny and Heather as well. For Danny, you could call it the right place in the right time, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For, some good came out of it. However, to continue on here would be such a spoiler to the story of OVERLAND. Just know that in the yin/yang balance of life, that when existence becomes bleakest, light follows. Danny’s light occurred when he least expected it, and it changed his life forever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I would like to hear if anyone so chooses, to step forward, and post the milestone markers of their life…for better, or for worst…or both!&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/10/back-in-carefree-days-of-la-de-da.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwL3aWQguawR-vclo0BuVc2atFK4Jv672pXRWQqFQxO2flsx1Cy7e_qRjAv6_Zdw4HDKh5IGPYWmdzrtmFFJQVNKPAdMorLC94F5BxdH_ieQMTtjSvUeIUexkZhyvADmBJxrD5tFHjNw/s72-c/1979.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-2860571214697499291</guid><pubDate>Sat, 17 Oct 2009 19:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-17T20:14:37.297-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Danny</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Facebook</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">poetic license</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">traveling adventure</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">travels</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">TV</category><title>RANDOM HAPPENS</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s1600-h/random.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s320/random.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393647749183016802&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How repeatedly do you find yourself using this word, random? Often? Me too. We all know what it means, something that happens that was not planned…out of the blue, accidental, indiscriminate, arbitrary...random! &lt;br /&gt;In my circles and elsewhere on TV, it is a commonly used word, right up there with “whatever”. But the word whatever (I use it too, I’m not preaching here) seems so hopeless and misplaced. Let’s face it. Life is tougher these days. We all have to live with less. It’s easy to fall into a misguided way of thinking. I’m glad “random” has become in vogue as it gives some lift to the &lt;em&gt;whatever&lt;/em&gt; way of being. If it is upbeat, random can be positively inspiring. And when that happens so unexpectedly, it feels so good and so surreal. Of course, there is bad random, but “let’s not go there”.&lt;br /&gt;What’s a decent example of good random? Meeting someone that you share so much in common with? It feels sublime to share familiarity with someone you hadn’t met before. That somebody can become an instant friend, maybe for life. And good friends are a good thing!&lt;br /&gt;Regular readers of my posts know where this is going. Of course this has something to do with OVERLAND. This is what this blog is all about. Danny has a string of random encounters in his travels sprinkled throughout Overland. Poetic license?  Perhaps. But Overland is a novel, where in a fictional world, anything can happen. And it does for Danny.&lt;br /&gt;But in the cyber world of Facebook and the like, randomness has become common, and that is a good thing too! When Danny traveled about in 1979, there was no high technology. There was just pure luck, and randomness. Find out about the random in Danny’s world. &lt;br /&gt;I’m sure you have had your sure of random encounters in your travels, and if you did, I’m sure they were memorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your random encounter? Did it change your life forever?&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/10/random-is-new-mantra.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOikTauYfqM_3sYVJqRDD_ZBV9Px3ye5EMY5dGTocVnveIZK07cbNVM0Z6s-n_XH71p7UPZxYiNJpAS3F89gCErZSYQi17UZ7voiGlrg-RlilAExbXBDGgFscnNIiBfyUcMMAh3c-kC1s/s72-c/random.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-4827947181085946074</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-02-11T06:55:11.086-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">doctor</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">instincts</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lost love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Northern Ireland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sheltered life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">survival</category><title>A SHELTERED LIFE</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJvidU5HYcliIRlXO591MsqUKjznsepV0K3xkzYRT7pwekgUn7Ch00KnwHP19w4mZiuBqYZGY1TJ1FDnhEZVDnCRWrVAXFkyZF8TQYCB-8FxBEnl3TfUU5YnEBpCaFPFhvLkwAMW1XEw/s1600-h/The+open+road.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJvidU5HYcliIRlXO591MsqUKjznsepV0K3xkzYRT7pwekgUn7Ch00KnwHP19w4mZiuBqYZGY1TJ1FDnhEZVDnCRWrVAXFkyZF8TQYCB-8FxBEnl3TfUU5YnEBpCaFPFhvLkwAMW1XEw/s320/The+open+road.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391389555356793298&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I want to thank everybody who has chosen to follow my blog and to read some of the posts over the last few weeks. I do hope you are enjoying them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To refresh the idea of what the OVERLAND blog is all about: to take one of life&#39;s many wistful abstract concepts, and weave them into one of the themes included in the novel OVERLAND. In previous weeks I have written about finding lost loves, a pleasant memory frozen in time, writing what we know, and a few other arbitrary yet meaningful posts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today&#39;s entry is about living a sheltered life. I would think most of us do. In fact it is in our innate survival instincts living in a modern society, to make our life as comfortable and least disruptive as possible. We become used to our routines, and eventually settled in our ways. Recently, I had to get a new bed pillow because the one I had simply wore out. I loved that pillow, the way my head contoured to the down feathers within. My new pillow took some getting used to, and as silly as this may sound, it is our survival instincts to adapt....even to a new pillow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever been shaken up by your routine, and dislodged from your comfortable life and literally had to reinvent yourself? Perhaps (God forbid) losing your home, or your job, a painful relationship,  some traumatizing event with your kids, or even just going through your life with no disruptions is all very disturbing and life changing. Even the actual routine itself could cause internal conflicts that we clandestinely wish for something to happen...something to shake us out of our routine and sheltered life.    &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Danny, our main character from OVERLAND is a prime example. Although living in Los Angeles, his life was very sheltered as he went from school to medical school and to his eventual residency, never traveling more than a five mile radius…except for that one time when he was 17 and traveled for an extended family reunion in Northern Ireland.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let&#39;s just say that was his wake up call to let him know there was more to life than his five mile radius back home. And perhaps this time away from home for the couple weeks in Northern Ireland was the seed to allow him to make that impetuous decision to follow Heather half way around the world when she left. That was a pretty adventurous and brave decision for someone who had lived such a sheltered life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the reader will discover in OVERLAND, why would someone of Danny’s upbringing and serious path of medical studies and to ultimately become a doctor, would set off on such an untamed notion of finding someone when it appeared so highly unlikely to achieve it? You&#39;ll want to read the book to find out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As scary as the notion of a disruption of your life is, sometimes can be the best medicine. It worked for Danny. It&#39;s worked for me. Has this ever happened to you? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As always, your comments are welcome and appreciated!&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/10/sheltered-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJvidU5HYcliIRlXO591MsqUKjznsepV0K3xkzYRT7pwekgUn7Ch00KnwHP19w4mZiuBqYZGY1TJ1FDnhEZVDnCRWrVAXFkyZF8TQYCB-8FxBEnl3TfUU5YnEBpCaFPFhvLkwAMW1XEw/s72-c/The+open+road.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-5401948963467099109</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2009 01:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-04T11:21:57.915-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">college</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Facebook</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">high school</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">jobs</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Kathmandu</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">london</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lost love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Time magazine</category><title>LOVE- LOST AND FOUND</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;I think finding a lost love has become somewhat of a phenomenon. Have you ever wondered what EVER happened to your boyfriend or girlfriend from high school or college? Or even in your jobs and life in your 20’s or 30’s, or 40’s? With the plethora of internet social networking sites, mainly Facebook, this has become extremely possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0X50LsC5rkMt13uBbQX3PeXbKU_ISxbsXj8DIIWWTguV3r8f5HdlQDC69b9pU78NpHUPRdi5Rcw_xYFAH738mH_y1JG1bd1YaGJntFQL3tc3DCb5SwQvnGLBKENzHvy4nry6ad7p4RQ/s1600-h/lost+love.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 251px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0X50LsC5rkMt13uBbQX3PeXbKU_ISxbsXj8DIIWWTguV3r8f5HdlQDC69b9pU78NpHUPRdi5Rcw_xYFAH738mH_y1JG1bd1YaGJntFQL3tc3DCb5SwQvnGLBKENzHvy4nry6ad7p4RQ/s320/lost+love.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388553691336085938&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TIME magazine recently had a similar article about this very same subject. Their summation that for the most part, is better to leave those stones unturned. Maybe ten, twenty, or thirty years have passed since you last laid eyes on each other. Back then, maybe you were just friends and wanted each other, but circumstances were in the way and now’s the time.  The one thing is certain: you are each ten, twenty or thirty years older. How has time treated you? Would it be a disappointment to see each other so many years later? Would you even want to know and allow the younger image etched in your head stay as is? Or would it be the most incredible thing for some fantasy come to life? So many technical and theoretical questions! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here’s a most interesting prospect: What if you weren’t expecting to find your lost love, and suddenly, &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt;, there they are. What would you do, and how would you react? Again, more theoretical and this time, emotional questions. But they’re good ones. As you ponder and dwell on this prospect from your own life, I raise the question because in OVERLAND, there is a very pivotal scene as I just described.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny, our main character in OVERLAND, had been jilted by his long time girlfriend Heather. He wanted to marry her, but she decided to travel &lt;em&gt;overland&lt;/em&gt; on a Magic Bus from London to Kathmandu instead….WHY? She has her motivations, perhaps justified, but Danny refuses to accept the rejection and decides to track her down, and go all the way to Kathmandu if he has to just to find her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In OVERLAND, circumstances ultimately lead Danny to the discovery of his lost love. And it’s not Heather. How does he respond, and what does he do?&lt;br /&gt;I invite each and every one of you reading this post, to find out how Danny reacts to such an event, something so random, so unexpected. You will be incredibly surprised and delighted to know ultimately what evolves into a love story for the ages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes…if you have a story such as a discovered, reunited and evolving lost love found, and you’d like to declare, I think we would all want to know…comments are encouraged!&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-lost-and-found.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0X50LsC5rkMt13uBbQX3PeXbKU_ISxbsXj8DIIWWTguV3r8f5HdlQDC69b9pU78NpHUPRdi5Rcw_xYFAH738mH_y1JG1bd1YaGJntFQL3tc3DCb5SwQvnGLBKENzHvy4nry6ad7p4RQ/s72-c/lost+love.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1286213143032698755.post-8497120070712546774</guid><pubDate>Sat, 26 Sep 2009 21:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T07:08:37.211-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">calais</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">couch potato</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">disney world</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dover</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">france</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">moonlight serenade</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">national parks</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">overland</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">river rafting</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">time</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">traveling adventure</category><title>WHEN TIME STOOD STILL</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vkhvDivvKjSl1X9J2Az6yOIdZ9UnyIczxV-1QteIPvBd211Cex_1B-FTWLJLI3zLlZv4dQWUOnpiIiFfdD7Rb5XOo-TXeSVIUapvEYFL_2dRoATL11w01CeQ1BTrjKg1IGFf9l5kvtw/s1600-h/white-water-rafting-jpg1-86071.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 305px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vkhvDivvKjSl1X9J2Az6yOIdZ9UnyIczxV-1QteIPvBd211Cex_1B-FTWLJLI3zLlZv4dQWUOnpiIiFfdD7Rb5XOo-TXeSVIUapvEYFL_2dRoATL11w01CeQ1BTrjKg1IGFf9l5kvtw/s320/white-water-rafting-jpg1-86071.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385897514483182418&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Earlier today I was being very self-deprecating with a good internet friend. She told me she was all banged up and bruised from a rafting trip and that she fell out of the raft in alligator infested waters down a river in South Africa. Then she hit some rocks, some other rafts floated over her, and yet she lived.  Amazing that she did and thank goodness! I said that all my years of being a couch potato has paid off.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, both cases are extreme. Most people don’t do what she did, and I’m not always being a couch potato. But then it got me thinking that within one internet exchange, we represented two types of people: those that are adventurous and those that aren’t. Neither category doesn’t make one better than the other. &lt;br /&gt;I view traveling the same way. There are two kinds of people: those that travel and those that don’t. But then you get into a couple of sub-categories. Some people travel to National Parks, or Disney World. Pretty safe destinations, I think. They’re fun and beautiful, but safe. My favorite sub category is extensive exotic adventure traveling or EEAT: leaving your country and your proverbial comfort zone for a long time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This category is not for everybody. But you might surprise yourself.  If you are at first full of reluctance before leaving, by the end, you’ll have wondered why you never did this before. Throw yourself to the whims and mercy down the path of least expected. You’ll be blown away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens out there? Why will you be blown away? And what does that mean, blown away?  Basically, however you viewed the world before these adventures, after, you will be different. You’ll feel different. People will recognize this difference within you. They may not understand it, and they may not want to feel what you feel. But you’ll feel it, and it stays with you forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain. When in third worlds, safe third worlds, people will come up to you and want to speak with you. And if their intent is just to chat, and to try out their English, or find out where you are from, it usually is a happy occasion.  This exchange leaves you feeling happy too. And if your everyday existence is like this, you begin to realize this is a cool way to live and you’ll want to keep it going. Move on to the next town, or country and you never know who you’re going to meet and what you will see. Eating the local food is incredible. Then browsing in the local markets, and stopping by for a cup of tea. It can turn into a whole day, and then its dinner time. And you feel good, relaxed…at peace with the world, and with yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NnM7PVPduRrgLm8hWJnVWK2JF1wJkX0AEQlhz1MayfJXWH9xw4wYQvat54oliYrxao_mhvA5TVc-7FQ005EtiyIlqV5gjS8ZSa85OEaFDQ9NKEx-SnstJsqN23utMHU5NT5bwG2Yj6E/s1600-h/ChiclayoMarket.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NnM7PVPduRrgLm8hWJnVWK2JF1wJkX0AEQlhz1MayfJXWH9xw4wYQvat54oliYrxao_mhvA5TVc-7FQ005EtiyIlqV5gjS8ZSa85OEaFDQ9NKEx-SnstJsqN23utMHU5NT5bwG2Yj6E/s320/ChiclayoMarket.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385898940815571986&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the most complex part to these kinds of extensive adventures is arriving back home. Adjusting to the everyday life of work and routine is so anticlimactic. So much so that if you knew how difficult that part of it was, you would never leave in the first place! But don’t let that stop you anyway. &lt;br /&gt;Here’s my situation: clearly I belong in the EEAT category. Or I did. I rhapsodize and reminisce about it so much that my whole life’s goal now is to get back out there. But I did satisfy one part of me that longs to get back out there and just can’t at the moment. Writing OVERLAND. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you read OVERLAND, you’ll see how much of what I had lived in these travels, is the story. Although there is plenty of fiction and imagination, it’ll be interesting to speak with people to ask me what stories were real. On some snowy Sunday, I may read my book again and actually count how many moments of my travels are in there. If I had to guess, I would say dozens. The scene when the song “Moonlight Serenade” by Glenn Miller suddenly plays in the most remote and random of circumstances, you’ll wonder where that came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard it in a pub waiting for the ferry to cross the English Channel from Dover to Calais, France. It was a just one of those magical memories that stood time very still. And very inspirational indeed! You’ll find it in Chapter 23. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free to make any comments on what happy moments made your time stand still&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;</description><link>http://authormarklevy.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-time-stood-still.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mark Stephen Levy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vkhvDivvKjSl1X9J2Az6yOIdZ9UnyIczxV-1QteIPvBd211Cex_1B-FTWLJLI3zLlZv4dQWUOnpiIiFfdD7Rb5XOo-TXeSVIUapvEYFL_2dRoATL11w01CeQ1BTrjKg1IGFf9l5kvtw/s72-c/white-water-rafting-jpg1-86071.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>