Overripe Fruits

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Last Updated on Wednesday, 04 May 2011 11:58

"Some day, we may stand like trees against the wind,cover-overripe-fruits
naked and soft, with singing birds in our hair.
And we will communicate only in song."


Overripe Fruits (english), Ritti Soncco's first book, was published in July 2009. The nine short stories are anecdotes from her life, with themes as various as her childhood in Africa, love, a x-rated family portrait, the nightmare of rape, as well as the battles in daily life. Mark Klawikowski illustrated the book with the stylish plant people. Ritti Soncco: "Each story is a seed growing in your head, so the writer must be prepared to let the plant go in freedom, because like a plant, each story needs sunlight and water. I was afraid to let the stories go their own way without me, so they became overripe fruits weighing on my head. The plant people are the personification of the stories on their way out of my head, finely dressed, ready to discover the world."

 

Read all about Overripe Fruits in my Blog here.

News & Events

 

Dec 2

Ritti Soncco will be traveling through Perú until the end of February 2012 to collect information for her next novel. Follow her writing journey on her blog http://rittisoncco.wordpress.com !

 

 

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Ritti Soncco´s BlogFeder

new short stories & anecdotes every week

Delightfully Bad Blogging

No, we are not throwing my beloved blog to the dogs. It’s been challenging keeping the blog alive while on the road, mostly because when you’re on the road, well, you’re On The Road. You’re spending 12 hours on a night bus freezing and worrying because the bus is rocking to and fro like a boat on the high seas and you know that on either side of this narrow dirt road is a 1000 meter drop down the legendary Andes. Or you’re trying to get on a boat to see the islands of Lake Titicaca but the boat engine goes up in smoke five minutes after boarding.

Or you ate fish after midday and nursed the worst stomach ache of your life for two weeks, during which everything else (even the blog) can go straight to hell. You’re trying to find a ladder so that you can break into your hostel room at 7 in the morning after New Year’s Eve, because the hostel staff lost your key, have no spare or master key (“What’s that?”), and are calling you a liar in Quechua. You’re standing on the side of the road at 11 at night, sadly watching a stranger drive off with everything you own because you put your rucksack in the boot of his car, and the switch to open it broke. So you tried to dismantle the car with friendly, but drunk strangers (one of which keeps serenading the event and demanding payment for his singing afterwards), and you now know how to remove the backseat of a car. You also know about the gallon of gas right behind that backseat, which will blow if you – or any of your new drunk friends – keep rattling at it so hard...

 

Continue reading on Her Blog  rittisoncco.wordpress.com

 

 

 

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