It all started in a sixteenth-century library in Romania, during one frigid winter. In East Europe, libraries are the perfect shelters from the cold and the world.
It’s safe to say, it was in this library that I passed suddenly and passively into a state of mind similar to bliss with books by Eminescu, Arghezi, even some early Eliade. Dickens, Hugo, and Dostoyevsky followed. I would have happily taken up residence in the old building, even tolerated the mice at night, if left alone with my books.
The writing came later. I had never planned to be a writer, but the reading led to inspiration, and ideas willed the pen into my hand. A high school teacher liked my essay on Eminescu’s “Evening Star,” so I wrote another one, followed by a short story that would have given me no peace had it not found its way onto paper.
I moved to the U.S. in 1992 to finish my studies, and started writing in English, a beautiful challenge. The world of fiction writing continues to provide a great counterbalance to the legal research and document drafting I tackle for a paycheck in a law office.
Today, I live in sunny California where the reading and writing continues. Although far from the harsh winters of the Balkans, I sometimes miss the old library in Romania.