For the first time since Bozo the Clown, I was on TV.  In honor of Jewish Book Month, I had a great conversation with writer Joan Gelfand on the Bay Area’s Mosaic program.

They compared my collection to a dog. “In a collection that marks its own territory, Friedman’s seven tales offer a compelling exploration into shifting social norms.” You have to subscribe to Booklist to read the whole review, but this was my favorite line.

The indie-publishing site called “Fire Year,” the story, an “Isaac Bashevis Singer-like take on the Jewish experience in the American South.”  I.B. Singer is a comparison I’ll take. Read the entire review here.

This was the first review of my forthcoming story collection, Fire Year. It’s the best kind of review—one that teaches you something about your own work. The stories “gravitate toward taboo.” Love this. I totally see the taboo theme now—but it never occurred to me before. All this confirms that the author is the last

I’m honored to be appearing on a Litquake Palo Alto panel with Ann Packer, Harriet Scott Chessman, and Tom Barbash, moderated by Hilton Obenzinger. And considering my stories run up to 50 pages long, I’m amused the panel is called The Beauty of Brevity. At this point I’m more admirer than master of brevity. The