Irene Sabatini's Blog, page 2
January 28, 2010
December 16, 2009
Book Reading with Geneva Writers' Group
There is something magical when you do a reading and you feel people connecting and responding to the characters and the story by nodding, chuckling, laughing, and gasping...it was incredible to sense Ian's character (with his very 'Ianesque' way of talking) coming alive and being taken in by the listeners as I read Chapter Two of The Boy Next Door.
Suddenly, in the room, a brash, boisterous seventeen year old had strode in with his broken car radio and from his first words to Lindiwe he seemed to have everybody's startled and amused attention.
Lindiwe's voice too was undeniably present, strong in its intelligence and shyness; it really felt that these two very different teenagers were meeting for the very first time, their story beginning, and about to unfold in this Zimbabwe of the early eighties.
Fiction, I love it!
Suddenly, in the room, a brash, boisterous seventeen year old had strode in with his broken car radio and from his first words to Lindiwe he seemed to have everybody's startled and amused attention.
Lindiwe's voice too was undeniably present, strong in its intelligence and shyness; it really felt that these two very different teenagers were meeting for the very first time, their story beginning, and about to unfold in this Zimbabwe of the early eighties.
Fiction, I love it!
December 12, 2009
German Jacket !
It's clever, cool, and rather charming. Those of you who've read The Boy Next Door in english will know just who the art work brings beautifully into the frame.
click http://www.irenesabatini.com/german_l... to read more
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click http://www.irenesabatini.com/german_l... to read more
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December 6, 2009
UK Launch
I received the Sceptre 2010 catalogue last week and it was such a thrill to see The Boy Next Door right there as one of the books that will be published (February). There are some new books coming from Sceptre from literary luminaries such as Siri Hustevdt whose The Sorrows of an American was one of my favourite books last year and Andrei Makine, whose two books that I have just finished reading, Human Love and The Woman Who Waited left me stunned: the sense of having been exposed to profound emotional truths.
I'm often asked how hard it was to write this book and my answer is always that it was a gift of a book to write. The story was just there, everything happened organically: Lindiwe came as she was and she grew and evolved to be the woman she is, so too with Ian. They came to me with their strengths and foibles, as human beings, perfectly flawed. How that happened is a mystery to me and I can only be deeply grateful that these two individuals were there for the telling.
I'm often asked how hard it was to write this book and my answer is always that it was a gift of a book to write. The story was just there, everything happened organically: Lindiwe came as she was and she grew and evolved to be the woman she is, so too with Ian. They came to me with their strengths and foibles, as human beings, perfectly flawed. How that happened is a mystery to me and I can only be deeply grateful that these two individuals were there for the telling.
November 28, 2009
Book Group Antics!
I had a wonderfully lively evening with a book group that has just finished reading The Boy Next Door. Over wine and a fabulous dinner seven feisty ladies (two Americans, three Australians, a Swiss, a Swede) and I delved into Ian, Lindiwe and their unpredictable story in Zimbabwe. It was fascinating to me how the book touched all of them; to hear their own takes on the characters and how passionately they felt about them.
There seemed to be a strong emotional connection to Lindiwe in particular (everybody loved her!) which, as the author, I was deeply moved by. A couple of them really disliked Ian at the beginning of the book; he grew on them because of his own growth: they had to struggle against their own prejudices and conceptions about him (which seems to me to be a very real-life like thing to have to do). It felt, hearing the various opinions, that the story had achieved something substantial and remarkable; that knowledge took my breath away.
They were all curious to know if there were any autobiographical aspects and were rather shocked to hear that Ian is entirely a creature of the imagination! He is the biggest 'what if?' puzzle of the book. I talked about the process of writing the novel: the bits and pieces I borrowed from my childhood; how this borrowing metamorphosed into something else entirely which I guess must be one of the great joys and gifts of fiction writing...the way you can play, and make believe!
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There seemed to be a strong emotional connection to Lindiwe in particular (everybody loved her!) which, as the author, I was deeply moved by. A couple of them really disliked Ian at the beginning of the book; he grew on them because of his own growth: they had to struggle against their own prejudices and conceptions about him (which seems to me to be a very real-life like thing to have to do). It felt, hearing the various opinions, that the story had achieved something substantial and remarkable; that knowledge took my breath away.
They were all curious to know if there were any autobiographical aspects and were rather shocked to hear that Ian is entirely a creature of the imagination! He is the biggest 'what if?' puzzle of the book. I talked about the process of writing the novel: the bits and pieces I borrowed from my childhood; how this borrowing metamorphosed into something else entirely which I guess must be one of the great joys and gifts of fiction writing...the way you can play, and make believe!
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November 11, 2009
Where the story ends, begins...
Another thing I kept getting asked, during a school visit, by the children was: are you going to write a sequel, like in Harry Potter?
I hear the question and that exquisite moment of exhilaration, happiness and sadness when I wrote the last line, word, in The Boy Next Door comes rushing back to me. It was a good-bye (but not 'The End'). The work was done (for now).
Every now and again I can feel Lindiwe, Ian and.... well, I won't go into who else so that I don't spoil it for people who haven't read the book) looking over my shoulder as I write now about some friends and a tragedy that is pulling them into the past, the recriminations that they have to confront in the present...
The funny thing is: I know exactly where Lindiwe and Ian's story begins again. This beginning which came to me months ago was a great surprise and delight: I thought, no kidding, I would never have guessed it...but how wonderful that it should start there!
So what does this mean, will there be 'a sequel'?
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
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www.irenesabatini.com
I hear the question and that exquisite moment of exhilaration, happiness and sadness when I wrote the last line, word, in The Boy Next Door comes rushing back to me. It was a good-bye (but not 'The End'). The work was done (for now).
Every now and again I can feel Lindiwe, Ian and.... well, I won't go into who else so that I don't spoil it for people who haven't read the book) looking over my shoulder as I write now about some friends and a tragedy that is pulling them into the past, the recriminations that they have to confront in the present...
The funny thing is: I know exactly where Lindiwe and Ian's story begins again. This beginning which came to me months ago was a great surprise and delight: I thought, no kidding, I would never have guessed it...but how wonderful that it should start there!
So what does this mean, will there be 'a sequel'?
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
[image error]
www.irenesabatini.com
November 8, 2009
Magic !
I was walking along a bridge when I stopped and looked over the railing. The usual swans were there gliding in their effortless way on the water, but interspersed among them were these grey birds with necks as long and curved as the swans; these creatures however seemed ungainly in the water, gawky, and not so pleasing to the eye. I looked and looked at them and then suddenly I smacked my forehead, of course, here they were, The Ugly Ducklings! Here they were before they became creatures of fabled beauty and elegance.
And then suddenly in the exact same spot where I was standing there was a boy, six or seven years old, standing with his father, looking out at the birds. I could feel their breath on me. I could feel the boy's excited quiver, his hand squeezing his father's, his feet on tip toes. I sat down on a bench and looking out at them I wrote a bit more of their story, the story of the book I'm working on now.
This is what I mean when I keep telling people about the magic of writing: all of a sudden your characters are real. They are people. They breathe. They walk with you. You see them. It happened with The Boy Next Door. Later, the boy and his father will walk all the way up to the old town, along its wonderful cobbled streets and they will find the longest bench in the world and they will sit there, together. I will wait for them...
www.irenesabatini.com
And then suddenly in the exact same spot where I was standing there was a boy, six or seven years old, standing with his father, looking out at the birds. I could feel their breath on me. I could feel the boy's excited quiver, his hand squeezing his father's, his feet on tip toes. I sat down on a bench and looking out at them I wrote a bit more of their story, the story of the book I'm working on now.
This is what I mean when I keep telling people about the magic of writing: all of a sudden your characters are real. They are people. They breathe. They walk with you. You see them. It happened with The Boy Next Door. Later, the boy and his father will walk all the way up to the old town, along its wonderful cobbled streets and they will find the longest bench in the world and they will sit there, together. I will wait for them...
www.irenesabatini.com
October 31, 2009
The Telling of Stories
One of my favourite books is The Blue Taxi by N.S. Köenings (Little, Brown and Company, 2006).
I read this novel which is set in an East African country when it was first published. I was struck by the richness of the characterisation and of the beautiful evocation of a time and place.
The blurb at the back sums up the story very well: '...writing with a delight in language that is utterly her own, N.S. Koenings depicts an African city brimming with life and full of contradictions, just like the people who inhabit it. The Blue Taxi is a dazzling tale of love, courage, and what happens when lives and fates collide.'
This story - its heart being the love affair between a married Belgian woman, Sarie Turner, and a local widower, Majid Ghulam Jeevanjee- showed me that it is possible for an outsider, the author, to capture the essence of a person and persons of a different culture (to their own) in a way that rings true and vibrates with authenticity.
I think of this as a kind of grace - to be able to inhabit the body and soul of the other, to make them breathe - the magic of what good fiction can do.
I'm very grateful to have read this book because I'm certain that its truth seeped into me giving me some of the grace I would need to allow Ian McKenzie to be a human being and not a caricature or a parody or even an urban legend!
I also just love, love its jacket art!
www.irenesabatini.com
I read this novel which is set in an East African country when it was first published. I was struck by the richness of the characterisation and of the beautiful evocation of a time and place.
The blurb at the back sums up the story very well: '...writing with a delight in language that is utterly her own, N.S. Koenings depicts an African city brimming with life and full of contradictions, just like the people who inhabit it. The Blue Taxi is a dazzling tale of love, courage, and what happens when lives and fates collide.'
This story - its heart being the love affair between a married Belgian woman, Sarie Turner, and a local widower, Majid Ghulam Jeevanjee- showed me that it is possible for an outsider, the author, to capture the essence of a person and persons of a different culture (to their own) in a way that rings true and vibrates with authenticity.
I think of this as a kind of grace - to be able to inhabit the body and soul of the other, to make them breathe - the magic of what good fiction can do.
I'm very grateful to have read this book because I'm certain that its truth seeped into me giving me some of the grace I would need to allow Ian McKenzie to be a human being and not a caricature or a parody or even an urban legend!
I also just love, love its jacket art!
www.irenesabatini.com
Book Reading and Signing - Geneva, Switzerland
I had a wonderful evening at Off the Shelf Bookshop in Geneva, this my very first reading and signing. I love this place with its wooden floors and bookcases; it is large enough to have a good variety of carefully selected books and small enough for the book-lover to feel right at home in.
I was very shocked and humbled by the number of people who came. It was a very emotional experience seeing people holding my book, for the very first time. Lindiwe and Ian are now public property! What will be made of them, of their story? I feel a bit like a mother hen.
The signing was awkward initially for me...my author signature, well, to quote someone in the bookshop, was just too plain, it needed flourish! By the end of the evening I do believe it had acquired some loops and twirls!
I read the first chapter with a thumping heart and here's the thing...as I read I kept thinking, they're listening to this story, my story, now theirs. Magic!
The conversation we had afterwards was another emotional rite of passage...the questions that were asked about the characters and the story brought me right back to over two years ago when a phone conversation lit the spark for the story and the tingling excitement of my hands on the keyboard when I wrote those very first words.
Pictures and video of the evening can be found on my website
[image error]
www.irenesabatini.com
I was very shocked and humbled by the number of people who came. It was a very emotional experience seeing people holding my book, for the very first time. Lindiwe and Ian are now public property! What will be made of them, of their story? I feel a bit like a mother hen.
The signing was awkward initially for me...my author signature, well, to quote someone in the bookshop, was just too plain, it needed flourish! By the end of the evening I do believe it had acquired some loops and twirls!
I read the first chapter with a thumping heart and here's the thing...as I read I kept thinking, they're listening to this story, my story, now theirs. Magic!
The conversation we had afterwards was another emotional rite of passage...the questions that were asked about the characters and the story brought me right back to over two years ago when a phone conversation lit the spark for the story and the tingling excitement of my hands on the keyboard when I wrote those very first words.
Pictures and video of the evening can be found on my website
[image error]
www.irenesabatini.com
