September 28, 2016
The failure of my first book did not surprise me: it was expected, and I was prepared for it. Then there was the second attempt, in a very different register, and the success of that left me speechless for weeks. I owe much to my editor and agent. I owe much to the followers of this blog who kept visiting at a time when the writer in learning was at his lowest… Of course I owe much to my readers, who have come back for more…
Above all I owe it to you: without your decision to go, to change your life, and therefore mine, it would not have happen, I would not have found enough rage in me to write that second novel, to write in a way that had such appeal to people. But now I am wondering. The book of life and happiness failed, the book of despair, betrayal, death and desolation succeeded.
What should I conclude?
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