The TRUST TRILOGY, the story of Sophia, Ethan and Alistair, turned out to be a bit of my own story in the end.
It was a long and arduous journey and most of it, I only realize now, I traveled alone, in the solitary company of my dear characters. However, while writing those books, I discovered such a passionate pleasure, met soul-deep pain, and found a new understanding of myself and this crazy world we live in, that I wouldn’t have exchanged it for nothing else but a few more hours at the weekend to be with my family and maybe a publishing house to help me with all the insane work of publishing and promoting it.
The trilogy started to be planned on April 2009, when bedridden with a flu, I told myself a story. I only found the time – and the courage – to start writing it on February 29th, 2011.
What was supposed to be a stand-alone, light romance mingled with my special interest in the violation of children’s and women’s rights as I was seeing it grow and spread as fire in a dry land, turned out to be my personal Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage. I smiled and laughed a lot; I lost more than 100 pages due to a computer crash (and almost quit everything then and there); I made great friends and anonymous enemies; I hurt my fingers, wrists and hands many times; I broke a foot and was chained to a wheelchair for two months; I faced an editor with a personal crisis, which led me to a big depression; I cried much but I learned more.
This is one of the best things in life, still be able to re-start, to learn, no matter how old you are.
In spite of my seriousness, I’ve always been blessed with the ability of seeing the good side of life, and it is not made of beautiful clothes and expensive jewels (I’m not saying I don’t like them… I do.).
But there are those that are incapable of seeing beyond the wealthy façade and they forget that clothes are just outside layers, which, most of the time, mask gentle hearts or hurt souls.
Life is made of people; be them wrapped in Chanel, H&M or bedraggled clothes.
Life is made of sharing laughter (or tears) and, especially, peaceful, quiet, happy moments when we can escape the urban and technological chaos, which pushes us far away from the Other, to enjoy the best that it reserves for us: our own existence, our present and future; and the love that surround us, given freely by caring and loving persons.
I battled angry, big moths in deep, dark holes. I survived and finished my quest.
Here I am, ready to start it all again. This time more knowledgeable, but no less humble, eager to hear my readers’ opinions (I dare to hope for more positive ones this time).