People of Character: Nowhere Man

Let me give it to you straight: Nowhere Man is a no-nonsense kinda guy. Not in a cruel, brutal way (although if you’re trying out a new haircut, or think who might have put on some weight, let me tell you now that his opinion is not the one you want to hear), but in a direct way.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a kind man, but he’s a rare breed: the kind who assumes that, if you’re asking a question, it’s because you want a straight answer. And a straight answer is what he gives you every time, without disappointing.

Which means (quelle surprise) he’s not always great with people. But before you write him off as a heartless sociopath (which I assume is what you’ll do if you ask what he thinks of your new haircut or if you’ve been putting on weight), give him a chance and read on.

People of Character: This Charming Man

Everybody knows This Charming Man.

Unlike Her, who’s mostly a literary version of someone’s alter ego (please don’t tell Her that – she’d kill me), This Charming Man is far more elusive. He is different things to different people, part prince charming, part regular guy. He’s stylish knowledgeable, attentive – but at times impossible to pin down (understandable, seeing as he didn’t have a mobile phone when I first imagined him circa 20 years ago). He comes from a good family (which isn’t always free of complication), and he’s sure of himself – which means he doesn’t have everything figured out all the time, and that’s still ok.

People of Character: Her story

I’m not sure exactly where these three characters came from. All I can tell you is this: they have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.

The details of how we’ve been brought together are a bit muddled; it’s simply been too long.

50,000 words and other little achievements

Six months ago today, I was feeling positively giddy. There were at least two reasons for this.

… And then we were five.

I wake up to the whirring of machines and blinking little lights. This, I declare to myself in my internal Alan Rickman voice, is becoming too frequent.

The smell lets it be known to me before I even open my eyes that I am, yet again, on a hospital bed. Unlike last time, I’m waking up knowing where and who I am. I also know I am in pain (this fact hits me hard immediately after I open my eyes). But that is entirely secondary.

Writing by numbers

There is nothing more unnerving than having to write an outline for a story you’ve already started and (let’s be honest here) are struggling to finish. Happy-go-lucky, write-first-ask-questions-later gal that I am, I’ve just had to do that for the second time with the same manuscript.

I’m sure there were writers in the past (as there will probably be in the future) who could simply sit down, write like mad, edit, and one year later, have a phenomenal book published, immortalised, raved about, and so on. The type of writer that discovers an amazing story while writing it. I always told myself that if you plan a story from start to finish and then write it, you’re ruining the punchline – even if it’s just for yourself. So I decided that outlines were for other people. Besides, I had a plan: my plan was, once I reached 80,000 words, I was done. Easy, right? Wrong.

Cake: because everybody loves cake

I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right: this is a cake.

Inspiration, as I’ve been told countless times and experienced many more, can spring from unexpected places. And after not writing on here for a while, it was a cake that inspired me to return and continue to tell my story. Why a cake? I hear you ask – here’s why.

Well, this is embarassing… *UPDATE*

… After  rather long hiatus and nearly intolerable pause between posts, I’m taking the time to apply myself and work on my manuscript for a bit. I’ll keep you posted (ha-ha) on the growing number of words in the meantime. So far, so good: 45,077 46,007 words (or: 34,923 33,993 words to my goal)  

Home is where the traffic is.

Every time I go back home to Brazil, I’m amazed at how much of my awareness of the city has been erased by a decade of living in little, organised, law-abiding Switzerland.

Take the insane amount of distance between things, for example. Sao Paulo is a massive city! I’m instantly gobsmacked by the amount of time you spend in traffic – and I’m only here on vacation! This was an exchange I had with my mother during my last trip home:

Me: I have an appointment at ten AM in Vila Mariana tomorrow. What time should I get a cab to take me there?

Mum: Yesterday.

As it turns out, to travel the 11 km from our place to Vila Mariana could take anywhere between 25 minutes and an hour and a half. With a spread like this, no wonder people are so stressed in traffic! I dug deep into my heart to find any vestige of road rage, but it wasn’t there anymore. A little part of what once made me a typical Paulist had become dormant.

The fun of time travel – part 2

The desk travels: my temporary desk in Rio Preto

I mentioned to one of my (many) cousins in Rio Preto that I was amazed at how much the town has grown, and pointed out the development of office towers and residential skyscrapers all over town. In true “I’m-getting-old-and-don’t-want-to-face-the-facts” fashion, I reminisced how when we were kids, we joyfully celebrated the fact that the town’s first McDonald’s was opening; we also had to play outside all day (or go to the movies) because there was no cable TV.

Now, there’s a massive Walmart, and smart little boutiques, and even a Hilton hotel opening in a few months. My cousin indulged me and listened patiently to my rant, before making an interesting comment; she called Rio Preto a “gentle giant”. Meaning: yes, the town may have grown over the past decade, but it maintained an endearing small-town mentality.

Within about 20 minutes of arriving in Sao Jose do Rio Preto, you start appreciating the fact that the town is nowhere near as stressful as Sao Paulo. While Rio Preto and Sao Paulo have some things in common (why does everybody here drive like they’re the only ones on the road?), others are a welcome change, for instance:

There is still a strong link with the town’s agricultural traditions. People still have fruit trees in their backyard. People still make home-made jam. People still know how to get a cow to get out of the middle of the road (step one: open your vehicle’s window; step two: proceed to tap your hand loudly on the outside of your car door). And, of course, people still have that easy-to-spot, delicious countryside accent.

The distances are shorter, and it takes you a fraction of the time to travel them. Unless, of course, you’re stuck behind a tractor. Or there’s a cow in the middle of the road (in which case: see above). Although to be fair, the latter doesn’t happen very often anymore.

People walk places, and seem happy to do so. There are actual sidewalks! And walkways! How did I not notice this as a kid? People go about their business on foot and don’t seem as neurotic about security and crime as we unfortunately have to be in Sao Paulo.