So this is my new caprice! To-day I will begin to publish my Soliloquies on this…blog as they call it. A hideous word: blog. It´s not a beautiful word like ¨typewriter¨ or ¨lettre-de-cachet¨; but let´s forget it, every thinking age has its stink and mange….
So with this project, readers of my novels will no doubt get a kick out of seeing me put on the outfit of a modern pamphleteer. Lovers of literature who don´t yet know about my books will, I hope, discover here in these Soliloquies an interesting perspective on literature.
We will get to know one another, some of us. I will read all of your reader feedback emails if you choose to comment privately on my posts. I trust they will be written from a kind heart, as I will read them as I drink ouzo or absinthe; and if I´m, for your sake, to spoil my liver, please don´t spoil my soul!
Then one day the posts will stop: New Love will come to you in the spring. Perhaps you will marry, or better still… While I and and all the Romantic poets of our time, along with the revolutionary author Pietros Maneos, will be sent to slave in chains, raise goats and fondle dreams of freedom in a Turkish prison camp. Ô, que les dieux nous protegent !
…This month I am finishing my fifth novel, The Wanderess, and am concluding the outline for a memoir on melancholia. I am sitting in a hotel in Spain, and am wondering where I should go from here. Should I head north to Paris? Or should I travel over to sunny Mexico? It is mid-November and, though there are still adventures in the streets, and a warm breeze rustling the palms, the famous spirit of Spain is starting to wane for the season. So, as always, I´m ready to move on.