It’s the title of my new book, which is the collection of my London stories. Obviously.
‘The South’ translates here as in ‘by a South European’. Or: ‘The South-nuanced London stories’. Translations translations.
Fortunately, the title is gripping and completely understandable in all my mothertongues: Montenegrin, Croatian, Serbian & Bosnian.
And I wrote the stories in my first languages.
One day, maybe, it will appear in this tough Anglo-Saxon market; tough because these days an unknown & translated author has to either be a runaway from a huge troubled market (country); or incredibly lucky, wealthy yet free, all over the place and web, an interesting, young male – to even hope to be published here. But in 10-15 years…When children have grown up and moved out…Watch this space. Or not. But I will still be writing; writing much more in fact.
Anyway, this book is about all things London-related. How I arrived here, froze my butt and bones in my summery dress because it was 7 degrees in June. Now of course I know it’s the normal June temperature.
I wrote about Londoners and me. How I learned to tone down; and when I did they told me they loved my outrageousness.
I wrote about nostalgia, the plus and minuses of it; about how it moves in her mysterious ways and how I learned to switch that companion on or off.
I also wrote about the days when I was a couch potato; then, some exhibitions, some theatre.
I wrote when I was in Love with London; I wrote when I wanted to strangle it (him?); I wrote when we’d break up and come back together again, more passionately than ever.
This book can have huge audience. For any curious 15-100-year-old reader. Especially if, for now, she reads Monte, Cro, Serbo or Bosnian.
I love so many things about this book. I should have it translated, at least into English, I think.
I love the cover.
And the stories between the covers – well, ‘When you don’t know what to write, write one honest sentence,’ apparently Hemingway said this. Well, it defines my London stories.