They say that writing is a solitary art: you think of a story, you spend hours organizing, writing, revising. Alone, with the company of the computer. But then the day comes when you publish and the book stops being a lonely space to reach others. Other hands, other eyes that multiply on Sant Jordi's day, become present in a continuous flow of people.
The truth is that there are many Saint Georges on April 23. I have been lucky enough to be able to experience a few very different ones in recent years. I have collaborated with bookstores where you could recommend and at the same time try to remember the name of a book by the description of the cover. I have accompanied authors discovering that agendas are made by someone who believes that instant change of place exists. I have been able to go back and forth between stops to greet friends and celebrate with each of them memorable days and days that have made words drenched by the hail. And this year, I'm spending it with pen in hand, signing Els fils del mar, published by Spècula, a small genre publisher.
Each of these days, of these ways of celebrating Book Day, have one thing in common, the gaze of the other, the possibility of connecting with those who give meaning to this small craft of telling stories. Because every glance, every mirror, every dialogue is a way of sharing the passion for other worlds, for books.
On Sant Jordi's day you see yourself in the eyes of others, those who know you and come to greet you, and those who don't know who you are and study your face, name, book title and make the connection or maybe no and they pass long. And there's a double mirror here, because you know what it means to have a friend visit you, someone you haven't seen in years and has decided to stop by to say hello. But then someone you don't know approaches, who has just discovered you, and everything has a different meaning.
You also discover yourself in the eyes of your tablemates, with whom you discuss the game, talk about books, anecdotes. When they get hits, you hear readers talk about how they discovered it, the excitement of finally being able to say hello to someone they've been reading for a long time. And there is magic in this space too, in this feeling of being moved by something that has nothing to do with you, but which does have to do with books, with shared reading.
In the end, we write for this, to be able to share it, to explain and explain ourselves, to discover how others have read us, to let the stories expand. To give away and give us dreams.
