Last November, I found myself in a glass elevator speeding to the top of the Mole Antonelliana tower in Turin. I wasn’t there for the view: I had exactly 59 seconds to persuade Antonio Pennacchi, one of Italy’s most important writers, to read my novel. Even more nerve-racking: My elevator pitch was live on camera.
Months earlier I’d quit a well-paying marketing job in Milan to pursue my dream of becoming a published author. I’d gone from high-achieving to surviving on soup in record time; I’d write one page and delete three. My friends advised me to quit. “Nobody reads anymore,” they said.… Seguir leyendo »