I have been immersed in the process of writing a book. That took almost all my time the last year, but most intensely these two last months, when I have been editing, proof checking, negotiating with my editor and all those things one have to do before having the book in the bookstores.
I just have sent to the editing house the last proof with my last corrections and my approval, and now I only have to wait for them to do their job. I suddenly am feeling very tired. Really exhausted. But at the same time excited and restless waiting for the moment when I will see the work completed.
It was not easy to reach this moment. I have written My parent’s story, pretty exceptional, during the war and the exile. For me was a very emotional trip. I began to dive into the diaries of my dad and the memories of my mom. They suffered a lot and loved a lot, and finally the love they professed each other was the winer.
When I sent my manuscript to the editorial house, they told me it was too long and instructed me to cut off 20.000 words. I was desolated It was like amputate a limb to your own child. Very painful.
I finally managed to do so without damaging the story and we reach an agreement.
All this is happening in the year of the centenary of my dad. The Regional Newspaper, where my dad had a daily column about International Politics during 28 years, published a page about him and another page days after, when the University where he was teacher of Journalism during 32 years celebrated a big event with many assistants.
This will be a year of celebrations here and in Croatia were My dad comes from. Lots of things will happen around his memory. I’m proud and happy.
(In te picture during the celebration of the centenary of my dad at the University, with my sisters, my brother in law and the dean of the Journalism School. I’m the last one at the right.)
After 28 years working as a journalist for a newspaper, glued to the strict facts and trying to be precise and truthful, I kind of burned my writing style. It’s very difficult for me to compose something creative. And it’s a shame, because I once upon a time had some talent, and lots of ideas for short stories and poetry. Even I published a poem with some success. But I was young and enthusiastic then, and didn’t have experienced the harsh life of a street reporter, with a daily deadline to deliver my news and the need to tell real stories as accurate as possible, with as few words as possible. No adjectives. No fancy descriptions. Just so: what, who, when, where, why. Everything else, had no space in my work.
This has been an unforgettable summer for me. I have traveled to my parents homeland, I have deepened in my roots, I have discovered beautiful places, I have met wonderful people.. My eyes are full of beauty and my heart filled with gratitude. I wish there will be many more summers like the one we just wrapped up.
I’m not reticent to speak
I have been in Croatia the past month and I have followed there the final of the World Cup and the welcoming to the football team that lost the final but won the respect of many and came back being the second best team of the championship.
I have a crutch for these cases but it was also difficult to use it there, so under my own risk I decided to venture myself without the walker or the crutch, but with the help of the arm of a good friend and leaning in
The effort was worth it. I/m glad to have been able to spend the day in that place.
I have never been here before, but somehow all this is familiar to me and,
We have had good news at the pond: Mr and Mrs swan have had babies: two “ugly ducklings” who are actually pretty cute. The swans are very protective towards their cygnets and they don’t allow any duck to came near them. As they are the biggest on the pond, they can impose their law very easily.
We have at the park two ponds with plenty of ducks, geese and other waterfowl, but only a pair of swan. The ponds are inside the old moats of the city walls, which are now part of parks and green areas. It’s a nice place to take a walk and relax a little.
