Dears, it is with great pride and pleasure that I will be participating in the upcoming Lebanese Authors Convention taking place THIS Saturday, May 06 at the Golden Tulip Hotel De Ville in Beirut. During the convention, you will get to meet Lebanese authors and familiarize yourselves with their works. I will also be signing my debut novel, A Road Away From Home, which will feature among the available books.
Looking forward to seeing a great crowd on Saturday. Be there and be many!
About the book:
Torn between fulfilling his passion of becoming a reputed writer and simply surviving in a fast-paced world, john Kaliba ventures through the shady areas of Lebanon, a small forgotten Middle-Eastern country running high on corruption, social tension and political divide. He is exposed to the social milieu in underground Lebanon: bars, drug use, alcohol abuse and prostitution en route to finding his voice as a writer…and an intense love affair to shift his attention from the word and drive him deep into contemplating the vices of Lebanese society. The terrible tale of a madman who is often caught between doing what is socially right and what his heart dictates, and who finally finds there is a story to tell even in the darkest corners of the world.
Quotes from “A Road Away From Home”:
– “For man always looked to hire a fool to amuse him without knowing he was one all along.”
– “Not all writers are crazy. Only the ones who are serious enough about their craft.”
– “It was still quiet outside. But after tonight, inside each of them, two restless beasts were finally put to rest. And they had each other to thank for it.”
– “In matters of love, one loves and the other decides.”
– “There always seemed to be a link back from the word to the heart, and john felt it the moment he’d lost Maryssa.”
Excerpts from “A Road Away From Home”:
– “But john wasn’t thinking about getting home. He was still thinking about Maryssa: should he have offered to get off at her place? He really wanted to – but he reckoned he was never a true romantic like Wordsworth or Byron or Shelley or Keats. Those were the true lovers, the ones that embodied the passions life had to offer. He never belonged to that circle of romance; he never truly belonged to them. He was also always hesitant when it came to women: it seemed there was never a right way to act around them. Or there might be, but it was unclear to him.”
– “john thought about the other poor people who wandered the streets of Beirut for measly breadcrumbs or dollar bills. He thought about the way Maryssa acted as his accomplice in the scam they’d pulled tonight. He’d found in her someone who understood his folly and matched it with some of her own. The night felt like a dream, the cool breeze like a small wind rocking john to sleep. He still wasn’t a proponent of love, but he was savoring every minute he spent with the girl with the golden voice. Writing – and everything else in the world – could wait.”
Link to the event: