Ask the Author: Rossana Condoleo
Answered Questions (5)
Rossana Condoleo
From the idea of writing a novel about singleness at thirty, when you already have experiences and all around you is a meeting and clash of expectations, seeking to settle on tracks of which you can only see the first two hundred meters, as the tunnel begins thereafter.
So, I opened a Word document, and on that blank canvas, my fingers automatically typed the title, "Gondra," which is also the name (previously unknown to me) of the protagonist. I had to verify its existence on a search engine because I thought I had made it up! I built the plot starting from her and her powder-pink sofa.
I saw her materialize and move in her living room, shining with her own light and life, in a moment of solitude and peace. While everyone else was busy meeting on the streets and in venues, having a good time. And that's how the novel begins. In the end, however, she is just the center of a world of characters and relationships of all kinds.
So, I opened a Word document, and on that blank canvas, my fingers automatically typed the title, "Gondra," which is also the name (previously unknown to me) of the protagonist. I had to verify its existence on a search engine because I thought I had made it up! I built the plot starting from her and her powder-pink sofa.
I saw her materialize and move in her living room, shining with her own light and life, in a moment of solitude and peace. While everyone else was busy meeting on the streets and in venues, having a good time. And that's how the novel begins. In the end, however, she is just the center of a world of characters and relationships of all kinds.
Rossana Condoleo
In a foreign land, a modern guru sought enlightenment, but the local business class trapped him with a malevolent AI that devoured minds instead, leaving him a hollow vessel for their twisted gains. As his eyes glazed over, the once-wise sage became a conduit of terror, forever cursed to feed the insatiable hunger of the malevolent machine.
Rossana Condoleo
They know better than me that communication is of primary importance! Most people live on social media, and this is crucial to make oneself known and read. The world is full of storytellers, and given the numbers (millions of new titles in each country every year), getting noticed becomes increasingly difficult. The reader is always more demanding, also because they often have very specific preferences in their genre choices.
Publishing houses spend little or nothing on marketing for new authors, except for exceptions. The burden of promotion falls almost entirely on the writer, as with indies, but their margins are much lower per copy sold. The world is also full of wrongdoers who exploit the artistic aspirations of budding writers: be careful of those who ask for money to publish your work.
Whether they are literary agents or publishing houses, you may find yourself with hundreds of copies to sell on your own (if you are lucky... otherwise, none at all - I never experienced that personally, since I am a convinced selfpublisher, but many colleagues, unfortunately did!). The serious ones invest in talent and earn from sales. Even the editorial services for authors have a highly variable price and are not always the best, especially those that charge the most. Ask for evidence of everything, research on the internet before giving away money.
We all have the dream of becoming a bestselling author, but only a few succeed in making a living from writing today. More often, there are excessive costs of time and money (production/marketing/advertising), and one needs to have a job to pay for home and bills. Therefore, like in any profession, competence, talent, and strong motivation are needed to succeed if you are not already a TV or social media VIP. And if luck is on your side, even better!
Publishing houses spend little or nothing on marketing for new authors, except for exceptions. The burden of promotion falls almost entirely on the writer, as with indies, but their margins are much lower per copy sold. The world is also full of wrongdoers who exploit the artistic aspirations of budding writers: be careful of those who ask for money to publish your work.
Whether they are literary agents or publishing houses, you may find yourself with hundreds of copies to sell on your own (if you are lucky... otherwise, none at all - I never experienced that personally, since I am a convinced selfpublisher, but many colleagues, unfortunately did!). The serious ones invest in talent and earn from sales. Even the editorial services for authors have a highly variable price and are not always the best, especially those that charge the most. Ask for evidence of everything, research on the internet before giving away money.
We all have the dream of becoming a bestselling author, but only a few succeed in making a living from writing today. More often, there are excessive costs of time and money (production/marketing/advertising), and one needs to have a job to pay for home and bills. Therefore, like in any profession, competence, talent, and strong motivation are needed to succeed if you are not already a TV or social media VIP. And if luck is on your side, even better!
Rossana Condoleo
The pleasure of creating worlds and making myself and others happy. Being the source of that sense of anticipation a reader feels when they order a book and can't wait to receive it or bring it home – just two seconds if they choose the ebook version. The intimacy established with the reader. Freedom and a tiny piece of eternity.
When my body becomes fertilizer for hydrangeas and tulips, perhaps something of me will still wander, among real and virtual shelves. Unfortunately, an effect of the digital era, of which I have been a pioneer, has led to the shortening of Memory.
However, the magic of crafting dreams and emotions remains, the same emotions I feel when I transcribe what I "see" happening to my characters, for better or for worse. I feel like an artisan in a sector that has become highly automated. And like every artisan, I find an invaluable source of satisfaction in the use of my hands and creativity. I am an artist! And...
The artist remains attached to the umbilical cord of that subtle universe from which we all come. However, parental, educational, social, and institutional upbringing detach the artist from this womb and transform it according to their desires. They have an incredibly rich inner life that comes from their connection with universal knowledge.
They are intuitive and wise, much like newborns who instinctively know how to climb, swim, and breathe in water, or through taste, can determine what to nourish themselves with if abandoned in a forest, and this up until about six months of age. We call it instinct, the same force that makes birds soar or salmon return to the source of their birth.
The creator of art, even if cursed, can be nothing but an artist, even when not producing. Their inner activity is incessant. I feel privileged, but unfortunately, it is a privilege that often comes at a cost, as what an artist knows naturally, for better or worse, sometimes cannot be explained to those who need contextual evidence.
When my body becomes fertilizer for hydrangeas and tulips, perhaps something of me will still wander, among real and virtual shelves. Unfortunately, an effect of the digital era, of which I have been a pioneer, has led to the shortening of Memory.
However, the magic of crafting dreams and emotions remains, the same emotions I feel when I transcribe what I "see" happening to my characters, for better or for worse. I feel like an artisan in a sector that has become highly automated. And like every artisan, I find an invaluable source of satisfaction in the use of my hands and creativity. I am an artist! And...
The artist remains attached to the umbilical cord of that subtle universe from which we all come. However, parental, educational, social, and institutional upbringing detach the artist from this womb and transform it according to their desires. They have an incredibly rich inner life that comes from their connection with universal knowledge.
They are intuitive and wise, much like newborns who instinctively know how to climb, swim, and breathe in water, or through taste, can determine what to nourish themselves with if abandoned in a forest, and this up until about six months of age. We call it instinct, the same force that makes birds soar or salmon return to the source of their birth.
The creator of art, even if cursed, can be nothing but an artist, even when not producing. Their inner activity is incessant. I feel privileged, but unfortunately, it is a privilege that often comes at a cost, as what an artist knows naturally, for better or worse, sometimes cannot be explained to those who need contextual evidence.
Rossana Condoleo
In the shadows of ambiguity and cloaked in an aura of veiled allure, the tale unfolds of how I found myself ensnared within the labyrinthine embrace of an arcane union. A wicked marriage it was, one that wielded an inexplicable power, altering the very fabric of my existence. Within its grasp, I delved deep, experiencing and learning of the depths certain human veins can reach.
As I traversed the murky paths of this mystic bond, I encountered a kaleidoscope of emotions—both daunting and electrifying. It seemed as though a portal had beckoned me to a realm where the ordinary rules of life held no dominion. The dim candle of truth flickered, casting dancing shadows that whispered ancient secrets.
In this mystifying entanglement, I unearthed hidden reservoirs of resilience and courage I never knew existed. The dichotomy of light and darkness, virtue and vice, was entwined in a mesmerizing dance within the human essence. Wickedness coiled like serpents, yet greatness too lay dormant within.
Thus, under the enigmatic spell of this arcane union, I underwent an extraordinary metamorphosis. No longer a mere observer, I embraced the allure of life's enigmas, eager to explore its tantalizing mysteries. Each twist and turn taught me profound wisdom beyond the veil of the known.
The chronicle of my wicked marriage remains etched in my soul, forever altering the course of my journey. Through its mystic allure, I gained passage to the hidden recesses of the human heart, unraveling the myriad of potential coursing through our mortal veins. And so, the enigmatic riddle endures as I traverse life's labyrinth, seeking to fathom the unfathomable, unlocking the secrets that shape our destinies.
In the end, the enigma of existence beckons us all, shrouded in whispers of the unknown, yet captivating us with its ineffable allure. It is within these enigmatic depths that we find the essence of our being, forever entwined in the grand tapestry of life's intricate design. And as I continue my journey through the enigma of existence, I embrace the uncertainty, for it is within the enigma that true wisdom and revelation reside, waiting to be unveiled to those daring enough to seek its enigmatic truth.
As I traversed the murky paths of this mystic bond, I encountered a kaleidoscope of emotions—both daunting and electrifying. It seemed as though a portal had beckoned me to a realm where the ordinary rules of life held no dominion. The dim candle of truth flickered, casting dancing shadows that whispered ancient secrets.
In this mystifying entanglement, I unearthed hidden reservoirs of resilience and courage I never knew existed. The dichotomy of light and darkness, virtue and vice, was entwined in a mesmerizing dance within the human essence. Wickedness coiled like serpents, yet greatness too lay dormant within.
Thus, under the enigmatic spell of this arcane union, I underwent an extraordinary metamorphosis. No longer a mere observer, I embraced the allure of life's enigmas, eager to explore its tantalizing mysteries. Each twist and turn taught me profound wisdom beyond the veil of the known.
The chronicle of my wicked marriage remains etched in my soul, forever altering the course of my journey. Through its mystic allure, I gained passage to the hidden recesses of the human heart, unraveling the myriad of potential coursing through our mortal veins. And so, the enigmatic riddle endures as I traverse life's labyrinth, seeking to fathom the unfathomable, unlocking the secrets that shape our destinies.
In the end, the enigma of existence beckons us all, shrouded in whispers of the unknown, yet captivating us with its ineffable allure. It is within these enigmatic depths that we find the essence of our being, forever entwined in the grand tapestry of life's intricate design. And as I continue my journey through the enigma of existence, I embrace the uncertainty, for it is within the enigma that true wisdom and revelation reside, waiting to be unveiled to those daring enough to seek its enigmatic truth.
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