Writing a Book in Spain

Spain was hit hard by the novel coronavirus. Week after week the news was filled with images of crowded hospitals and makeshift morgues. Quickly enacted laws required people to stay home except to buy food, see a doctor or pharmacist, go to the bank, or get liquor. Police wrote over a million tickets for noncompliance with the stay-at-home order. A single violation could result in the accused losing thousands of “euros,” which are a lot like money.

Neither Denise nor I was ticketed. That is because we did what we were told. Mysteriously, however, about the time the Spanish government started the lockdown our clothes began shrinking. Even leather belts got shorter. This may have something to do with some weird atmospheric chakras rising from deserted streets, I don’t know, I’m no egghead; or maybe I’ve got it all wrong and each of us just developed a substantial layer of corona fat.

I’m not ready to buy into the fat theory. First of all, I don’t like it. Second of all, Spain has eased the lockdown rules and Denise and I have been talking a LOT about diet and exercise, but the clothes still don’t fit right. On the other hand, Denise says the fact that I can now rest a sandwich and glass of milk on my tummy while sitting upright supports the corona fat argument. Doctors may never discover the truth.

I have not been completely idle, however. Years ago I started writing a novel. I completed a first draft and put it in a drawer full of sweaty gym socks. Everything in the drawer stank, but the book most of all. Then the lockdown happened and I pulled the manuscript out of the sock drawer and did my best to make it not terrible. I excised lines, paragraphs, and even entire chapters. I massaged the prose like I worked at the Orchids of Asia Day Spa and it was Robert Kraft. Eventually the book stopped stinking.

Or had I just lost my sense of smell? My inner George McFly insisted that people might not like it. “What if people think it is terrible?” McFly pleaded. “You used a lot of bad words and centered the plot around deviant sex. You may not be allowed to return to the United States. You may not be allowed to stay in Spain.”

I listened to George a good long while. He made some valid points. In the end, however, I decided to publish.

My book, The Bug’s Revenge, is now available on Amazon.com (and Amazon.es and Amazon.uk). It has gotten very good reviews, and not exclusively by those members of my family still taking my calls. One independent reviewer said that the story culminates in “the best (and humorous) courtroom drama ever staged.” Others have called it “laugh out loud funny.” The reviews all have been four or five stars. Check it out on Goodreads or Amazon.

Take that, Inner George McFly!