Lately I've been reading more and again, I must admit, I like molto.Mi like the feeling of getting in bed reading, and although most of the time I'm late because I begin to read at 23.30 / 24, are still rested in the morning because it relaxes me a lot. And then I do not write anything from a piece of mine, I tell a story, but I just thoughts, feelings, emotions, and almost instinctively knocked out so angrily beating on the white keys on my Mac and read a lot, especially something that I teases, charge circuitry helps me to write again. In order
my reading of recent weeks were:
The home of John the Deaf - Irvine Welsh
Marchionne, the man who bought the Chrysler - Marco Ferrante
I do not ask permission - Marilu Manzini
Del First there is little to say, is one of my favorite authors, perhaps the favorite, and his books I've read them all, often eaten with almost no interruptions. This book publishers and the upholstery of Palermo and is practically "the appetizer" Acid House.
Always nice, funny, engaging, shocking, direct, twisted, as Irvine Welsh's books have always been with that streak of madness that conceals genius.
The second is a cross between a biography and a chronicle, written in a journalistic, but not boring, legible and interassante. Of course, you (like me) have a passion for biographies and the Family and all that is concerned, however, is a window on how a manager who has completed one of the most sensational in recent years.
Last I bought it by chance in one of the tours in the library looking for "something hit me."
The back cover intrigued me, the photo on the cover even more and then I took it and liked it.
Written in a direct way, as I like, without frills but with a special sensitivity, able to surprise and intrigue.
There I found many ideas that I had to do it too, only situations where you would like to go out, push away the people around you, those who consider you entered, and breathing hard. Look sharp and irreverent in a city too big to be small but not too small to have implications for the country, the true Italian province with all its rituals and its vices.