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Live from the book festival in Saint-Etienne

Braving the cold, rain, protests, strikes, traffic jams, young Etienne have responded to the call of the Book Festival this Saturday, October 16. None of the authors signing copies of the different stands of bookstores have had time to be unemployed. A very warm welcome from the bookstores of Paris Librarie fortunately remedied cold ambient Tented. In my case, I have signed but with a broad preference for Momo blueberries and poppies. However, I managed to sell books that are more difficult to meet their readers like my so precious in the house and even my dear Saral Cutie Boy. An audience of highly motivated young readers some of whom had bought books last night and returned today to discover more.

So if indeed you were in the area this Sunday October 17th, please come to the area youth whose wealth is worth the detour.

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Momo between the best-selling Book Trader

For a nice surprise it is!

Momo entered the Top pocket books and what youth in 7th position.

And rather surrounded by a very fine company.

And if so it is only thanks to you, dear readers, do not stop to talk on your blogs, share your joy of reading.

Be deeply thanked.

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Girl from the spring.

Delicate dedication to Anne, my first reader.

A small family legend. We still speak to us the night of verbena and cupcakes.

My great grandmother lived a English hell. His two son, enlisted in the Civil War, had the preposterous idea of fighting on opposing sides. One among the Nationalists, the other among the Republicans. Tragic fate fratricide, not so rare in these times of chaos.

The poor woman had no news of her children for months. His torment was unbearable. Were they injured or prisoners? They still fighting? Were they alive?

She cried all the tears from his heart and prayed to God. Sometimes, in moments of great despair, he sometimes even the cause.

One day she hung her laundry in the sun to dry, making grief and rage, she appealed directly to the Lord. His index finger pointing at the sky.

- My god! I do not know what happened to my son! I have more news! Are they at least alive? If you do not have me yet Lord, sending me a sign!

A flock of swallows was then the root ball above the tidal clotheslines, chirping everywhere. Amidst the swirling flight, a swallow albino immaculate.

Months later, the war finally ended, the two warring brothers returned safely to the village. That is interpreted since, like a little miracle of family.

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Rights of the Child

A trip to the library