Stories come alive at night.
They are whispered around dying campfires, by quiet bedsides, under deformed old trees.
They might get interrupted by the howling wind, inaudible gasps, or nervous comments, only to be continued fervently once the dust settles again.
Why did the girl visit the eerie village? What did the gypsy’s words mean? Can the discovery of a new flower change the world?
Stories are supposed to end but they never do.
They leave you wondering and longing for more. They live on in your mind, in corners with cobwebs and memories you’ve been suppressing, in recurring daydreams you have while waiting in long lines. They fester and thrive there. They spiral and soar. You wish they would die but they cannot anymore.
Once you blow breath into a story, it instantly becomes yours…
Targeted Age Group:: 16-99
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I started inventing short stories for my wife before sleeping, then she suggested me to write a book with some of them.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Every story has different characters that were inspired by friends, patients, or by random people I crossed in the street.
Book Sample
When Mary Jane visited my village, she was astonished. It was not for our communal wooden huts where four or five families resided together, neither for the fact of living in the middle of the forest isolated from the rest of the world. It was our traditions that shocked her the most.
We met for the first time in the hardware store when I went to buy stuff we needed for repairing some of our huts after the huge storm of November 1971. She stared at me with an inquisitive face, probably wondering if my clothing was a costume. I wore my bison trousers and a simple skunk hat. We were used to being observed by the outsiders when we were out of the forest. Her face was so dazzling and delicate it captivated me. She caught my eyes and came to me.
“Nice outfit,” she said, “it looks so pretty.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to any kind of contest…or party?”
“No, not really…”
“I have never seen you around. Are you new in town?” she asked.
“Well, I’m not from here, but I live very close.”
“Ah, are you from Susanville?”
“No,” I said, “I’m from Izah.”
“Izah? Never heard of it. Anyway, my name is Mary Jane.”
“Nice to meet you, Mary Jane. I am Brody.”
She invited me to get a coffee in a cafe next to the store. We chatted for about two hours. I explained that I lived in a village in the forest called Izah. We didn’t follow the rules and the laws from the outsiders, and we would only leave our village for necessary matters. She looked fascinated by our community. I felt overwhelmed; it was the first time I had such a long conversation with an outsider. She gave me her address in case I wanted to send a letter to her or visit her.
It took three months until there was a need to go out of the village again. The winter was very cold, and we were running out of groceries. I volunteered to go to town in order to buy cereal. Nobody complained.
I bounced to Mary Jane’s house and stepped inside. It was a tiny house with very little furniture, and the smell of fresh baked cake whetted my appetite. Mary Jane was in the kitchen. She hadn’t notice me until I said hello, to which she leaped and emitted a loud yelp.
“Don’t you know how to knock before coming in?”
“I’m sorry… I thought that I was invited to enter when you gave me your address.”
She prepared two cups of tea and offered the sofa for me to sit on. It was so soft and comfortable; I was used to sitting on wooden chairs. She explained to me that she lived with her aunt in this house, and she worked in a bar. I had seen bars, but I had never been inside any.
Links to Purchase Print Books
Link to Buy The Fabric Over the Moon: 28 short stories from unlikely heroes Print Edition at Amazon
Links to Purchase eBooks
Link To Buy The Fabric Over the Moon: 28 short stories from unlikely heroes On Amazon
Author Bio:
Ferran Plana was born in 1988, at present settled in Barcelona. He began his writing passion after a long period of improvising bedtime stories for his wife before sleeping. When he is not writing, you might find him building a sand castle on the beach, observing birds with his binoculars, playing cello or trombone, or in the hospital working as a doctor. The Fabric Over The Moon is his first published short story and flash fiction collection.
