Today is the opening of the Madrid Book Fair. It is raining, per usual. This year I was not invited to sign. Last year I declined the invitation because I was not up to it physically. While having a cup of coffee, this morning, I was watching a television report about the opening, showing interviews with authors, and shots of umbrellas under the rain. It brought reminiscences of times past. Also, I was shocked to realize how lost in touch with the literary scene I have become. Let me mention only three of the interviewees: Rodrigo de Pablo, Manuel Espejo, and Juan Luis Cano. The three writers have authored several successful books, according to the reporter. And here I am, in the dark: never heard about them. Tomorrow, and without fail, I will rush to El Retiro Park and learn about the new Spanish literary scene.
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