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Yes. I've reached the end of my new novel, but that does not mean it is finished. Last Monday afternoon, one year and six days after writing the first word, the pen stopped a moment, took air, as if to dive into the water, and wrote the word END, with a capital. Now I'm reading it with the eyes of the reader, it is not easy. This is prop, polishing, editing, changing room block, delete paragraphs that are left over and rewrite others. But the most difficult has been completed. I guess other writers light up a cigarette, satisfied, or open a bottle that has saved for the occasion. Not for me, because neither smoke nor drink.

Some readers and friends have asked me on Facebook the title, or feed them a passage. For now, I'd rather not say anything except that this novel I'm editing have about 150 pages longer than Fiddler of Mauthausen or Einstein Factor (ie: those who have to read it, you can be exercising the biceps in the gym ...), happens in 1950 from Salzburg, Paris, Berlin, Barcelona, \u200b\u200bMadrid and Seville, and the plot appears a character Fiddler Mauthausen and other The key Pinner. I am pleased with the result, and this is the first step, I think, that readers might like. I do not think that post until next year, if not later. With books you never know. The novel has survived many trips, a summer storm that swept away nearly three hundred pages of manuscript, to two computers, desktop and laptop, which merged forever, and many moments of uncertainty, the usual, when can not help wondering what the hell are you doing so many hours locked a day in a world that exists only in your imagination. But writing a novel is also like a treasure to carry in your head for many months with the hope someday to share it with others.

the moment I can show readers of this blog the landscape of my desk after a battle so long: seven books manuscripts with more than seven hundred pages of my own hand, four notebooks, my favorite pen, two empty ink cans, four black and two red pens, two pencils, nine books I've managed to document, and my new laptop.

At least he is one the satisfaction of accomplishment. With that, at present, it is enough.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, May 2011