Omtale fra forlaget
Sunday Times No. 1 bestselling author Neil Gaiman's extraordinary Fragile Things, a collection of dazzling stories featuring How to Talk to Girls at Parties, soon to be a major film release starring Nicole Kidman, Elle Fanning, Ruth Wilson and Matt Lucas.
From the author American Gods, now a major TV series for Amazon Prime Video, Fragile Things shows one of the world's most gifted storytellers at the height of his powers.
Let me tell you stories of the months of the year, of ghosts and heartbreak, of dread and desire. Or after-hours drinking and unanswered phones, of good deeds and bad days, of trusting wolves and how to talk to girls.
There are stories within stories, whispered in the quiet of the night, shouted above the roar of the day, and played out between lovers and enemies, strangers and friends. But all, all are fragile things made of just 26 letters arranged and rearranged to form tales and imaginings which will dazzle your senses, haunt your imagination and move you to the very depths of your soul.
Forlag Headline
Utgivelsesår 2018
Format Heftet
ISBN13 9781472250964
EAN 9781472250964
Genre Fantastisk litteratur Grøssere
Språk Engelsk
Sider 438
Utgave 1
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Start en diskusjon om verket Se alle diskusjoner om verketIt seemed like a fine title for a book of short stories. There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.
She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immidiately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood. She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.
Writing's a lot like cooking. Sometimes the cake won't rise, no matter what you do, and every now and again the cake tastes better than you ever could have dreamed it would.
Of course, fairy tales are transmissible. You can catch them, or be infected by them. They are the currency that we share with those who walked the world before ever we were here. (Telling stories to my children that I was, in my turn, told by my parents and grandparents makes feel part of something special and odd, part of the continuous stream of life itself.) My daughter Maddy, who was two when I wrote this for her, is now eleven, and we still share stories, but they are now on television or films. We read the same books and talk about them, but I no longer read them to her, and even that was a poor replacement for telling her stories out of my head.
I believe we owe it to each other to tell stories. It's as close to a credo as I have or will, I suspect, ever get.
I love dreams. I know enough about them to know that dream logic is not story logic, and that you can rarely bring a dream back as a tale: it will have transformed from gold into leaves, from silk to cobwebs, on waking.
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