ABOUT MIRKA BREEN
I was born in Jerusalem, while my parents were founding members of a kibbutz nearby. That meant they had some notions about building a just society and making the world a better place.
I, on the other hand, had no such illusions. I dreamt of becoming a movie star, which mostly meant vacationing on something called a yacht, wearing sunglasses. I sunburn easily and get seasick, so I abandoned this dream early on.
Just about that time, at the ripe old age of seven, I discovered a book called The Little Prince. It seemed to convey some deep truths. Although the little tyke was an unlikely planet-hopper, he asked very good questions. I kept the book by my bedside, the way some keep the Bible.
In a way, the die was cast then. Some day I would grow up to tell stories to children.
I live in a small house by the sea, with my husband, two children, and the next-door neighbor’s cat. At least it seems to be close to the sea if you look at a map. You’d have to walk a few blocks and then you’d get a glimpse of the ocean, on a very clear day. But I thought “by the sea” sounds better.
I don’t think about being famous, though rich would be nice. My picture was published in a magazine once, as an expert on Oriental Rugs. An “expert” means that you know more than most about something, or at least two people think you do. One of them could be your mother, which doesn’t count.
My patient husband doesn’t think I do anything, and my children wonder how someone who doesn’t do anything seems so busy. Maybe that’s because I pick up after them all day long. I also write books for children, most of them very good. At least two people think so.
I have visions of maybe bringing a little light to some dark corners with these stories. You see, I may be my parents’ daughter after all.
The dictionary says that wistful means “full of unfulfilled longing” and “musingly sad.”
That means sad with a touch of sweetness to it. Sweet, because it is a pleasure to think about what we wish for.
When I was growing up, my favorite books were somewhat wistful. Because I’m still growing up, they still are.
And because I write stories I would like to read myself, most of them have a wistful quality. Many are funny, (I think) and some are silly, (I know) but most have something of a sweet longing in them.