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Oana's Blog on Human Nature

Author Oana takes on our daily lives and experiences from a very sarcastic humorous perspective.
Born in Bucharest, Romania, Oana lived twenty years under the grotesque dictatorial regime of Ceausescu. After the fall of the communism in 1989 she studied languages at the University in Bucharest, then received her Master’s at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Poland. English is her third language.
She has worn many hats, working as a translator, as a teacher, and eventually caring for animals both domestic and wild. She volunteered and worked for wildlife rescue and rehabilitation centers both in the US and Canada.
She lives in Arizona, where she continues to dedicate most of her time to her animals and to writing.
Her first book, The Healings was released in November 2010.

SEARCHING THE TRUTH

The smallest news from the U.S that reaches Europe prompts my mother to ask my sister to send me the following text messages right away: “Where are you? Are you okay? Okay, okay? Okay, okay, okay? Don’t lie to me.” My father – who claims he is not that panicky – sends me a “secret” message on Yahoo. It is written with bold letters: OANA, TALK TO US! REPLY ASAP! NOW! ASAP! I call Mom. What is it, t...
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INSIDE THE HEAD of Monica M. Brinkman, Author of The Turn of the Karmic Wheel

When I read a book, or when I’m thinking of reading a book, I find that I would love to know more about the author.  What do they think about? Why should I care about what they have written? What insights can they give me about their process, characters, and reasons for even putting their words on paper and sharing with others? Here are some questions I have asked some of my favorite authors. I ho...
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Some Things That Matter to Salvatore Buttaci:An Interview

What does your muse look like?   When I was a teen-ager I wrote a short story called “Man with Wheels” that told my version of the literary muse who visits writers and presents them with ideas for poems and stories.  He had wheels for legs and feet, and you knew he was there because the spinning sound of his wheels matched the sound of ideas spinning in my head, trying so hard to escape to pen a...
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