The first great irony of Phyllis Schieber’s life was that she was born in a Catholic hospital. Her parents, survivors of the Holocaust, had settled in the South Bronx among other new immigrants. In the mid-fifties, her family moved to Washington Heights, an enclave for German Jews on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, known as “Frankfurt-on-the-Hudson.”
She graduated from high school at sixteen, earned a B.A. in English from Herbert H. Lehman College, an M.A. in Literature from New York University, and later an M.S. as a Developmental Specialist from Yeshiva University.
She lives in Westchester County where she spends her days creating new stories and teaching writing. She is married and the mother of a grown son, an aspiring opera singer.
The Manicurist was a finalist in the 2011 Inaugural Indie Publishing Contest sponsored by the San Francisco Writer’s Conference.
Phyllis Schieber is the author of three other novels, The Sinner’s Guide to Confession, Willing Spirits, and Strictly Personal.
You can visit her website at www.phyllisschieberauthor.com.
Thank you for this interview, Phyllis! Interesting background you have. What was it like growing up in New York?
Phyllis: Wonderful. New York, especially in my day, offered so many opportunities for free entertainment. Every weekend, I was either at a museum, a free concert in Central Park, or some event at a nominal fee. My friends and I met either at Central Park or in Greenwich Village and walked everywhere. I was riding the subway alone by the age of twelve. And I had access to wonderful parks. I grew up near Fort Tryon Park in Washington Heights. My “backyard” included the Cloisters, amazing Native American trails, caves, and winding paths that were perfect for imaginative play. New York is a magical place to grow up. There is always something interesting to do, always interesting people to meet. I feel that I had a privileged childhood even though we had very little money. My parents made certain that I had a small taste of everything—theater, ballet, art, music, nature, All of it was available to me.
Your book, The Manicurist, has a picture of a hand with perfectly sculpted fingernails. What’s the significance in relation to what your book is about?
Phyllis: The protagonist of the novel, Tessa, is a manicurist, so there’s the obvious connection. But the hand is so mysterious and beckoning, aspects that speak not only to Tessa’s prescience, but also to all the mysteries that unfold.
As a child, you always wanted to write but had no idea it was going to be this hard. Is it the writing process or the “getting the book out to the public” process that is the hardest for you?
Phyllis: Oh, getting the book out to the public is the hardest part of writing. No question about it. I never knew how hard it is to sell books. It’s a real challenge.
The Manicurist is a tale of redemption. Would you like to explain that to us?
Phyllis: When I think of “redemption,” I think of a chance to be redeemed, a chance to be rescued from whatever it is that holds us back and prevents us from moving forward with the lives we should live. Everyone in The Manicurist is rescued from his and her own fears and misconceptions. In the end, everyone comes to a new understanding of what it means to be a family, what it means to be loved and to show love. In the end, everyone learns that life may not work out the way we had hoped, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a good life.
Magic plays a role in your book. Can you tell us more about that?
Phyllis: I love the idea of magic as a vehicle for understanding human nature. Ursula, Tessa’s mother, uses magic as a way to deflect attention from her illness and to give Tessa a way to protect herself from people who might want to take advantage of her prescience. I believe in magic, not the sort that is created by spells and potions necessarily, but the sort of magic that illuminates what we already know but are too fearful to confront. Magic is a beautiful metaphor with endless possibilities.
And most interestingly, you are a child of Holocaust survivors and are working on a book about this. Did your parents often talk about the Holocaust and how they escaped?
Phyllis: The Holocaust was a strong presence in my home. My brother and I, and all my cousins, were named after family members who had died in the Holocaust. It’s a heavy responsibility to carry, but did, and we do. My mother was from Eastern Europe. She was a survivor of the Transnistria Death March, a march on which two-thirds of the people died. I know her story as if it is my own. My father, on the other hand, was a German Jew, whose Holocaust experience, though difficult, was very different from my mother’s. His story in an incredible one, and he was a fascinating man. So, in answer to your question, yes, they spoke about the Holocaust often and in detail. Their stories are my legacy and my responsibility to pass along. It is a responsibility I take with profound seriousness.
When will the new book be finished?
Phyllis: If only I knew!
Thank you so much for this interview, Phyllis! Do you have any final words?
Phyllis: Albert Camus said, “If the world were clear, art would not exist.” It’s one of my favorite quotes. There’s not much to say beyond that!
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