Gracias a Michel Foucault por esto. Como dato extra, me gustan los juegos de video como Silent Hills y Resident Evil, colecciono Stormtroopers y leo sin parar todo el tiempo. Fragmento de Esa muerte existe Thorndike, Jennifer. Final Colabore, escucho que dice alguien.
Y grito con todas mis fuerzas, grito porque me desespero, porque no pueden pedirme que colabore con mi propia muerte, porque no quiero morir. Grito hasta que siento una mano que me tapa la boca con fuerza. Pero los oficiales me levantan en peso, levantan mis cincuenta kilos con facilidad, levantan ese cuerpo que se retuerce y lo depositan en la camilla. Abro los ojos y las veo. Cierro los ojos otra vez. Ya se puede empezar, asegura el otro. Entonces el director del Corredor de la Muerte abre una carpeta y lee la sentencia.
Pero yo no le creo. Necesito levantar la cabeza unos segundos para verificarlo. Pero no obtengo respuesta, nadie se acerca al vidrio, nadie pone sus dedos en el cristal para que yo los vea ni estira su mano para demostrar su presencia. Nadie se despide y yo siento miedo. Y mis ojos se cierran sin ver a Adriana. Mis ojos se cierran y mi voz se apaga.
The fourth reactor at Chernobyl had exploded three months earlier. Greenpeace estimates that thousand cases of cancer around the world will be attributed to this accident. Like most of the people from my generation, I will die as a result of some kind of tumor. I wonder if mine will be the radioactive type.
My mother gave birth to me in the Northern city of Chihuahua, but I was only there for six months I still include this in my biography because it is true and makes me feel more interesting. In reality, I grew up in Toluca until the age of I had begged my parents to let me study at a public high school.
I had never practiced philosophy if it is something that can be practiced , but I am sure I will look to study a doctorate in the same discipline. I began to write at the age of thirteen and had a go at writing some short stories during high school; I have not kept any material from this period. Due to my chronic nostalgia, I believe it was the best writing I have ever done. During my degree, I only read philosophy although not that much of it and I think I understood very little.
I began to write seriously in , when I started attending a creative writing workshop. For a year and a half, I had a column about film in the Tierra Adentro, Cine ex machina magazine.
I have published short stories in Registro. I am part of the Kinotecnia Cineclub. Type with two fingers. In December , while the world celebrated the fall of the Wall, I was born on a communist island.
I have the same birthday as Jesus, but I am an atheist. I went to live in Havana when I did not want to go, and I left the city when I wanted to stay. I wrote many unpublished poems that, deservedly, did not end up anywhere, and it is on that mountain of manure that I am standing.
After taking aim at the Russian roulette of literary awards infinite times, it was persistence, more than luck or talent, that allowed me to win a competition for young narrators.
In , two years after writing it, I presented a collection of seven short stories, La tarde de los sucesos definitivos, in the Havana Book Fair FILH , alongside the publisher Abril, which was later published in Uruguay by the publisher Criatura. It is a book that talks about defeat, the art of losing, and which, fortunately, I do not despise or reject yet. It received the types of critiques that brighten up your life, such as best debut, etc.
Questions about the reasons for writing are only asked when one does not write, and I do not ask myself those questions, I write them down. I beat up the person I am, when the person I am tends to take pity on himself.
The only cities that I have liked are New York, only during the first half an hour that I walked around it, and a Havana, full of friends that are now scattered, that does not seem to have happened, that could never have happened yet.
I am tragicomically Cuban. I try to be someone more, or someone less, than the ever awkward depiction in the autobiographies.
I like myself. I have published features and articles in magazines and newspapers that I have always wanted to publish in: The New York Times, El Malpensante, Gatopardo. I write every day, and do very little else apart from writing, and the more I write, the less mystical it seems. It is scarcely the hard work of a laborer.
I was born in June in in the beautiful city of Guadalajara. My poor mother was never able to make me into a refined lady, but she put up a good fight. My mom wanted me to follow her example and study medicine, but just to be controversial, I studied Literature, of course, at the UdeG Universidad de Guadalajara. When I graduated, I went to live in Oaxaca.
I fell in love with the mezcal, mountains and clouds there. My accent and roughness died down a little bit. I started to make books, but later I realized that what I wanted to do was write them. As I told you, I have always been a fortunate woman. Inadequate people, displacement, music, living on impulse, thinking too much, strange places. It is always about all of that.
I was born in in Porto Alegre in Southern Brazil, to a mother that had arrived from Alexandria, Egypt in along with her whole family Sephardic Jews , and to a father of Portuguese descent, whose family had lived in South America for two generations.
I am an only child, and I have wanted to be a writer since I can remember. My solitary games playing with Legos, Playmobil and spaceships out of necessity shaped me as a fiction writer.
I occasionally publish short stories in anthologies and I write for the newspaper Zero Hora. I am working on a book that takes place in Northern California. In , the English magazine, Granta, included me in their list of best young Brazilian writers. I was born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia in My father is an Italian immigrant and my mother is Bolivian. I started writing when I was eight years old and published my first story at seventeen, the same year that I secured my first job as a journalist.
I have two published short story collections, Permanent Vacation from and Our Dead World from , as well as an anthology, The Wave published in This book is partly about what is conjured up and comes into play with the supernatural, about animal bodies, about the buzzing in the background that contains the indigenous voices of our colonial history.
It took me six years to finish. Some people say that writing stories is a way to stimulate your creativity in the rest periods between writing novels. This is not what happens to me. Each of my stories involves months of assimilating difficult experiences. This telling is what inspired Meteorite, a story from Our Dead World. I have never had contact with flying saucers, but for me, writing is a portal to the unknown. When you write, certain energies are summoned and this energy that surrounds you generally answers your call.
So you need to have the courage to receive these invoked intensities. You have to be patient, because discovering their true form could take months or years, and the way to this end result is paved in pure darkness. I have family members who maintain that they are able to communicate with beings from other worlds. One tells of a childhood abduction by aliens that happened while passing by the banks of a river; another has seen space ships land in the Amazonian. I am interested in both monsters and faith.
Last year I won the Aura Estrada literary prize which is awarded every two years to writers under 35 years old who live in Mexico or the United States and who write in Spanish.
I am finishing a doctorate in comparative literature in Ithaca, New York. I live beside a cemetery in a city where it snows almost all year.
I believe in ghosts. I write short stories and work as a theater director. Those objects were mine, I had longed for them all year, and I lined them up in color order on a shelf next to my bed.
At 19 years old, I wrote my first play, Brick, that was selected for a municipal playwright contest, to be turned into a production afterwards. As I was taking acting classes at the time, and I realized I could watch my classmates acting for hours without getting involved myself, I felt encouraged to direct my own text. I understood that theater and writing were intertwined for me. My book is called Los accidentes, and I compiled short stories in which all the characters are scared just thinking about catastrophe.
The thought is fatality; it is the idea of the accident that encompasses all of them. In some way, these jobs are still a way to save for the future; in the same way as when I was nine years old and I felt excited to spread out a pile new books, freshly printed, on my shelf. At 22 years old, I directed my second play: Mi primer Hiroshima, that came from a short story in which an aviator was more scared of a romance than of the planes in full battle mode.
In their search for better opportunities, my parents taught me since I was a little boy to travel with only a suitcase and an unfinished life on my back. I have lived in Aguascalientes as the victim of a divorce and the adopted son of uncles and aunts during summer vacations. Writing and literary scholarships led me to Mexico City in my early twenties, excited by the idea that in order to be a writer, one must live in the center, but this fallacy lasted a few months and I returned to Zacatecas to continue with my university studies.
In , my book of short stories, El amor nos dio cocodrilos, opened the door to the Antonio Gala Foundation, an international residency for young artists in Andalusia. Nine months later, I went back to Zacatecas to work as a copy editor and editor at a local newspaper, and. The financial award gave me the opportunity to put down roots on the border, work full-time on my writing and to teach creative writing classes.
This trilogy outlines the damage caused by organized crime in Mexico, from the perspective of young adults born in the s. Capricorn and Dragon. In , I began studying literature. During that time, I made a group of friends that wanted to be writers. I decided to join them and write my first short stories, after seeing their discipline, romanticism and tenacity that they dedicated to the literary profession.
At 20 years of age, I thought that the only authors worth reading were those that were dead and the bands I listened to most in Windows Media Player were Radiohead, The Smiths and The Beatles. I published my first book of short stories. Nowadays, I love contemporary literature and in my library, there is a special place, almost like an altar, for the books by female authors. I believe in the strength of class and gender. I have had problems sleeping my whole life. Narrator obsessed with obsessive protagonists.
Half Puerto Rican, half Costa Rican, I sometimes try to convince myself that I write to discover a third homeland in literature, halfway between the fatherland and motherland, between the port and the coast.
All this is a way to say that literature sometimes is an excuse we use for living the life we imagine. Or better still, sometimes literature is used to live the life that we sketched halfway.
Perhaps confused by the double nationality, perhaps trying to escape from the rigor of a fixed identity, I have not stopped moving since I was little: I have lived in Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, California and New York, Israel and England, where I currently reside. From Monday to Friday, I take the train from London to Cambridge, and at the university, I do the only thing I know how to do half decently: read books and teach them.
Perhaps, however, literature is used for something simpler: to dig up obsessions. Maybe this is why, each time I sit down to write, I try to unearth obsessions and try to understand them. The modern novel, at the end of the day, is a theater full of obsessives. From Don Quijote to Captain Ahab, the novel looks for somewhere where a fixed idea is confused with its opposite: the absurd.
In this sense, I am interested in exploring the strange logic that hides the art of obsessions. I wanted to be so many things before I opted for literature: cardiologist, tennis player, architect, astronaut, engineer and soccer player.
Once, I even swore that I would be a crazy mathematician when I was older, like the ones from the movies. From that I was born in Guatemala in The year of Blade Runner. The year of The Wall.
As a teenager, I used to scribble down poems, like teenagers do to feel better when they are sad or bored. Writing is perhaps no more than an expression of adolescence, and if we keep writing, it is maybe because we never reached adulthood; because we never got past the rebellious phase, the unrest; because we believe, in the same way as teenagers, that if we give our imagination a chance, things could turn out differently.
I had not even got halfway through the second one when I finished my first short story. I do not know what Rulfo and Bradbury, Juan Preciado and the captain John Black, have in common, maybe it is a lot more than it seems. What I do know is that they sowed my definitive desire. I started working soon afterwards. I worked taking photographs. I worked in television. I worked on a government program that dealt with victims from a hurricane. And from the many things I learned in those first years, what became marked on my conscious in the way cowboys mark their cattle, is that our life does not pass by, but instead we are at the intersection where the individual and collective come together, the present and the past, and it is from there that I write, under the blinking yellow traffic light.
The first is the tale of a neighborhood and a group of neighbors that turn a blind eye to the law and decide to judge and punish a rapist. The second is the story of a father and child separated by a crime and twenty years of silence.
Her work seeks to build a catalog of distances and subtle monsters I was born in Puerto la Cruz, Venezuela in , year of the rabbit and of Joseph Brodsky. I am still not over my telescope being stolen when I was twelve years old.
I was very unhappy during my elementary education because I was not pretty and I liked books, things that seemed to annoy everyone else. I have worked writing reports about life in my country and have appeared in diverse types of anthologies. My next book is called El genio del tiempo, but one is always in time to change their mind.
I talk about books, movies, childhood memories and political disappointments. I hate needing to charge my editors, but it is often necessary to take the initiative because it is usually the old-fashioned way that everyone expects you to work for free. My cat is called Orhan Pamuk and he is a happy cat. Wendel St. Jobs in the spotlight. Als agiles Team haben wir uns mit Berlin, Deutschland. Hamburg, Deutschland. We connect manufacturers, retailers and wholesalers with Berlin, Berlin, DE.
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