One of my cousins spent a few days with me in Switzerland this month, his brother got a little jealous or something, and in the same week sent me a copy of Anjo Branco. I was shocked when I opened the heavy package. The story extends over 600 pages! To boot, it starts with fugitive descriptions of male genitalia. After that, the reader is sure to be paying attention how the character develops and the story unfolds. However I was also shocked because the last thing that I need is another book to read. I read constantly, and the more I read the more I want to read. Then I stop for a short while, scratch my head, and remind myself that I am a writer. That done, with that thought in mind, I try to plot getting away from books and libraries so that I can concentrate on writing and fresh air. So far the search for a hideaway on Hydra is not going well, so I may end up in Kithira after all in spite of the logistic challenge that it poses. I am forgetting something here, the economics of the hidden are coming to get me!
I am in the midsts of reading Anjo Branco, at page 111 to be more exact, and it is doing me good. I do not read all that much in Portuguese these days, accordingly my vocabulary and fluency suffer. Thanks to this cousin I keep an eye on modern portuguese authors.