Deborah Gelbard, University of London honours
graduate in French and Spanish literature,
also has a Higher Diploma in French Studies from the
University of Nice, France.
She has published academic essays on the work of
Marcel Proust and is a former Technical Editor of
electronic magazine of the International Peace
An excerpt from "Global Dawn" entitled
is currently showcased on the Writers Voice literary website.
Global Dawn is published by:
Ms. Gelbard has lived, studied and worked in England,
France, Belgium, Spain and Israel,
where she has lived since 1978.
Her professional experience includes commercial
at the British Embassies in Madrid and Tel-Aviv,
marketing consultancy and marketing writing
for the hi-tech industry in Israel.
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Excerpt from Global Dawn:
Reuven leaned back, clenched his fists and
stretched. With broad, work-callused fingers,
he furrowed dark brown hair back from his brow.
Then, he picked up the diary from the desk
in front of him and gently pulled on its satin marker:
It was August 3rd, 1999.
He thumbed forward a few pages.
"Just a week 'till the memorial meeting for Yoni," he
said to himself, manoeuvring a pen
thoughtfully between his lips. [...]
Yoni’s tragic death was the awkward circumstance of
Reuven’s reunion with Jeanine the year
before. He was killed in a mortar attack near the
Lebanese border alongside two other young
soldiers. The funeral was a military affair with all the
formality such ceremonies entail.
Reuven recalled Jeanine's figure at the graveside, her
mane of ginger hair swept high
above the sombre shades of her mourning clothes.
His inclination to reach out to her was stalled by the
appearance of an unknown figure at
her side. The stranger inclined his head, and from
where he stood close by, Reuven
observed the intimate moment when she pressed a
comforting hand into his palm.
There was a disturbing beauty in her composure in
the face of tragedy.
Global Dawn - Chapter 1
Science fiction and novel writers have provided us
with a key factor of the human
condition that scientists often ignore: Passion.
Author, Deborah Gelbard, provides
this uniquely human attribute
in her engaging exploration of a world in which realism
is interwoven with the dreams,
designs and beliefs of the creators of the
Global Dawn project.
In the guise of Global Dawn, Gelbard
captures the hitherto unwritten passion of
The Digital Earth Community
First articulated by former Vice President Al Gore in
1998, the Digital Earth envisages a
virtual representation of the Earth linked to vast
digital archives facilitating understanding of the Earth
and of human activity upon it.
Cleverly, through the creativity and unresolved inner-
child issues of Reuven,
her protagonist, she connects us with the wonder
and awe of Global Dawn
(alias Digital Earth), captured in the souls of adults
and reflected in the glowing
faces of children.
Her insightful use of the
natural design secrets of the universe in the
structuring of Global Dawn is in
harmony with contemporary thought among those
who contemplate a sustainable future
for humanity. Among these, she cites:
whose majestic geodesic dome at the
Epcot Center in Florida exemplifies the glorious
and useful discoveries awaiting those who are closely
attuned to the laws of nature.
Gelbard’s portrayal of Reuven’s emotional roller
coaster and the dynamic tensions
among Global Dawn’s Inner Circle
generates an interesting cast of characters.
Global Dawn on the foundation of the
Digital Earth, Gelbard has achieved an innovative
concept in her novel: She weaves science, art,
mysticism and spiritual growth into
an enticing drama that combines the joy and the
angst of embracing a common destiny
for humankind amid grim, present-day realities.
Hopefully, this novel will inspire
cadres of thoughtful people, when looking towards
the future, to say, “Why not?”>
and “Why not now?”>
The above text is extracted from the Foreword to
Global Dawn by Dr. Timothy W. Foresman, Digital
Earth pioneer and founding member of the
International Society for Digital Earth.
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Excerpt from Global Dawn:
Reuven idled among the towering pines of
From the thickness of the mist at the far end of the
glade emerged the grey silhouette of a roughly clad
With the index finger of one hand curled towards his
chest, he beckoned to Reuven, while raising a finger
his other hand to his lips in tribute to the silence that
surrounded them. Reuven tried to follow him, but
found himself unable to stand.[...]
Reuven grabbed at the nearest tree trunk for
He had heard tell of the "Wild Hunter of
Some said he was Death in disguise. He trembled with
The humming subsided and the space ahead of him
He lay back against the tree and burrowed his bare
toes into the knotted undergrowth. [...]
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