believe that the life of a writer is quiet and free of hazards? You are very wrong!
not imagine situations in which one can find incredible. Take for example a small town in the province of Lecce, add a festival of literature for children and invites a number of writers telling them that they will be followed, accompanied on the move, refreshments (including writers have lunch!) and, on the day of departure, will be brought back to the train.
All regular, you'll think. These things are the so-called minimum wage. But how does the writer think unfortunate to be relegated to a hotel that stands as a disturbing poisonous mushroom in the middle of the campaign Lecce?
Around great "country hotel" (gosh, that perverse fantasy!) There is only barren countryside, no lights at night and, least of all, the payout to reach the town. At dinner, as the aforementioned writer still has a nasty habit of eating, she is told that "maybe" you might think to book a dinner at the hotel, who knows.
Fortunately, there's friend and her husband Vito Tonina, rained like two angels from heaven, bring me a nice little restaurant in Lecce. The next day, after a night not exactly quiet country hotel in the spectrum, (but I had not asked for a place where there was at least some soul?) Are to take me to the venue.
The first meeting with secondary school children who would even buy the book (now in fashion-not reading the books of authors invited), but there is nobody to take care of sales, the text only serves to give a bit 'of color to the pale mousy desk. The best (so to speak) you have in theater where six authors are invited to talk their books with a view to a future premium well (hear, hear!) thousand euro. For this reason, some "colleagues" give the worst of himself, performing in pitiful clown scenes in order to attract the attention of the boys on "their" book. Maybe because I was a few steps back, but I believe that the promotion of reading and culture have nothing to do with these pitiful performance.
finished the torture, disappear all (they went to lunch!), But the organizers have again forgotten (ops!) to extend an invitation to the signed (but not the invitation was written that included food? And I had said I was the guest of honor and kept us very much to me?) Fortunately there Tonina and Vito, this time not only to comfort and cuddle, do more. Me back to the "country hotel" to return the suitcase and I am staying at home, caught by the doubt (which is shared by me) that just as the staff of the festival has forgotten to invite me to lunch and dinner, so will respect me back in station on the day of departure.
Only in the evening, the head of the event, remember to call me to tell me (as if you did not know) that I had "lost sight" for lunch (I was there, like a tree planted right in front of her) but if I could (note the repeated use of conditional) dinner reservations.
The most important question, however, does not make it. Since none of them brought me back to the hotel, where the hell are finished for the day? However it rains and is cold as hell. Where I ate, where I sheltered in these long hours? And how do you "forget" a person that you are stressed to death for having the "festival"?
Honestly I can not give me an answer, but after what happened (forget parcels, not people!), I can certainly assure the responsible event that never again will have the (dis) pleasure of my presence. Will have to make do with the clowns and buffoons, but so much so that the culture died, disappeared readers, there is at least someone who really laugh.
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