September 29
day before yesterday I presented a lecture he gave in Pamplona Juan Cruz, a journalist with El Pais and writer, and also served several years as the director of editorial Alfaguara. Juan Cruz has a reputation of very smart and hyperactive, and the little time I can see it in action yes, before and after the talk and over dinner. Curious, she asked a lot to all who presented and has plenty of anecdotes, instantly recalls the names of those around and brings up instant fluently, and all done while deftly handling two phones with non-stops sending and receive messages and calling.
I promised long ago to the four-minute presentation because I knew that it would oblige me, joyfully, read Scrambled Egos. A personal memoir of literary life , which, as the subtitle indicates, are the memories of Juan Cruz on the writers he has known in his life not only, of course, in years he served as boss of Alfaguara. The book has a title formidable, and well worth. They are memories without blood, because the will of Juan Cruz is the opposite: to celebrate how much personal contact with the great names of literature has given in his life, since very young journalist in Tenerife, dreamed planted in the Guillermo Cabrera Infante's house in London, impressed by reading Three Trapped Tigers.
After dinner and farewells, E. and I accompanied Juan Cruz to the hotel. Tomorrow, we said between frequent glances at their mobile phones, has many things to do in Madrid. In the following days, I find his blog you are in Mexico, New York, in Colombia ... And while no longer appear interviews that makes people of all kinds. His will is still to eat greedily life, without rest or brake. Where will further the strength, concentration and calm that require the writing of his books, some gorgeous, and on the other hand publishes annual punctuality?
October 1
We are starting to publish a book that should be included in the box of the complex. Many photographs, texts of various types and authors, including a documentary, an editorial director and a designer to be put on page whole what others will make, in accordance with the guidelines set by the director. Each of those involved have their routines, their hobbies, their ego more or less swollen and phobias.
My role is that of mediator. He performed above or below, all of them. It is difficult, often uncomfortable, tuning bagpipes, treat each one as he deserves, but at the same time monitor the project does not run aground or get out of mom ... Do I have the patience, skill and resolve that? I doubt.
Juan Cruz in Scrambled Egos , is very valuable pages on how to manage a publisher for the egos of the authors. How must serve them, encourage them, care, slow them down at times. Athill Diane's book that I quoted in this newspaper is also instructive in many fragments of the delicate and complex way to behave with the authors. I also remember a publisher reports that more have entertained in many years: Edit life by Michael Korda, a truly captivating book. The author recounts his adventures retouching text of novelists, but also actresses, singers, people with ego not stirred, but loose, bloated, full of character requirements, weaknesses, and always susceptible. I know no other reports of an editor as much fun as Korda.
October 5
Today was a bad day, full of demands pejigueras and stupid, one day very "modern" very much of our time. Maybe that's why I made that very soon the book he was reading, and I remembered some words of Philip Roth Rodrigo Fresán stated in his diary: "The key is not moving books to electronic screens. Not that. No. The problem is that the reading habit is gone. As if we needed an antenna to read and had been cut. Do not get the signal. The concentration, solitude, imagination requires the habit of reading. We lost the war. In twenty years, the reading will be a cult ... a minority hobby. Some will breed dogs and tropical fish, others read ".
I do not like anything apocalyptic laments. But I hate to suspect that I'm a dinosaur. Finally, may all boils down to this: it was a bad day.
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