Anabel González

Today the person who is helping me with the translation of my novel sent me this few paragraphs for me to look at. Tomorrow we will see the conditions of the translation and negotiat emoney uffff. Well, meanwhile I paste you here the first paragraphs of between light and shadow to know what you think.
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            It was two in the morning and I was walking along downtown Madrid. The cold was freezing my bones and blushing my fair cheeks, but I couldn’t care less. I was deeply enjoying these moments of solitude where no alien feeling could alter my calmness, except for those that still remain in the old facades.

            My destiny this time was the Plaza Mayor, an emblematic place of this city whose origin dates back to the fifteenth century. Plaza Mayor was sometime a market which is nowadays a touristic plaza covered by pubs and restaurants. One may only enter there through the different entrances at the low part of the buildings conforming it.

            I was thinking of my family while I was walking, of my parents who adopted me when I was five and embraced me with love, my brothers and my only two friends. All of them live in the United States, so far away from me, but at the same time so vivid in my mind. I cannot recall a single moment of unhappiness by their side.

            My steps get me closer and closer to my destiny, I could sense it. The emotions of the plaza began flooding me. I walked across one of the arches and walked until I found myself in the center of the plaza next to the statue of Felipe II gazing at the house of the bakery.

            I admired that mural which I liked so much; meanwhile all those emotions the plaza kept in its walls began to overwhelm me with its multiple feelings: joy, sadness, desperation and pain. I believed pain was coming from the time it was burnt, but they began to overwhelm me in such a way I began becoming disoriented. I knew I should leave right away, since historical places would affect me so much at the end, I liked them so much notwithstanding.

            A bit dazed and with my eyes half-closed, I walked towards Cuchilleros Arch, one of the arches of Plaza Mayor which lead to some of the most visited pubs by tourists. Over there, its firm walls should bear enough joy to recover sanity and look for my way back home.

            Still with my heart unbridled and completely covered by tears, I managed to reach the first steps of my destiny. I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath trying to assimilate what was surrounding me.

            I opened my eyes slowly to find out if was able to see the way better, and I suddenly saw some shadows rushing by my side. I thought I was not totally recovered and close my lids once more. I took a deep breath a couple of times and opened my eyes again. They were drenched in tears, I could not see clearly and the pain caused by the emotion traces of the plaza blocked my thoughts; even so, I concentrated as much as I could until I got focused on them. Those shadows were there for a second time. I felt them just behind my back.

            Some emotions filled me, all of them were bellicose and irate, and I knew something was wrong. Never in my life had I felt anything similar, and fear filled me. Even in my condition I tried to run and get out of there as soon as possible, but just when I had climbed down a couple of steps, these shadows started to surround me revolving endlessly.

            Because of the emotion, I knew they weren’t shadows even though that was what I saw. They were persons, but who could ever move that fast?

            Suddenly, I felt I was dashed against one of the arch’s wall. The fairly sudden and painful impact prevented me from seeing who had caused it. Each muscle in my body was bruised, my head rumbled, and I couldn’t move. The air around me could be cut with a knife and despite it was cold, I didn’t feel anything. But the desire of knowing what those shadows were, who had beaten me, prevailed over the pain getting to a point where I barely felt it.

            I opened my eyes then and I saw a tall and corpulent person, with an uptight body in a striking position. Its face was covered with a black balaclava showing only some brown intense eyes full of rage, determination and hatred, although I could also feel that in the emotions it irradiated. Some murderous and cruel emotions, so intense that I knew they were going to make me faint at any time. What did they want from me? What were these persons who could move so fast?

            With a hoarse and threatening laughter, which made me know it was a man, he came closer with great determination and put his hand on my chest. The feeling his hand caused in me was terrible. It was like a vacuum that wanted to soak up something essential from me and which my body refused with all its strength to surrender, it was painful, exhausting and distressing.

            The man’s laughter stopped and started to streamed frustration. I didn’t know what the man wanted, but it seemed he wasn’t getting it.

            I closed my eyes trying to stay conscious. What he was doing to me was enough already without having to share his emotions.

            A second later the suction ended. I opened my eyes in surprise and I saw how a man, whom I couldn’t distinguish, beat my attacker while a swarm of white lights chased the swarm of shadows which was stalking me before. The fight between the two men next to me was wild; the thundering blows had broken some steps which left me astonished.

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 As you can see he left it in the middle of the action sorry!!

 

 


2 Responses
  1. tracy_d74 Says:

    He is reading the Spanish version and translating it? Is he a fluent English speaker, write in English? And when he translates, do you make changes, too? I am just curious about how the process goes.
    You have good stuff so far.


  2. Yes, he translates from the spanish version. He is an official translator that does this as work, he also act as translator for many documents between US police and Mexican police.Yes, he lets me tell him whether I like or not the traduction or if find is not accurate with what I was trying to say. But he is really trying to use the same intention, words, comparatives , etc that I use in spanish. Tomorrow we are going to negotiate how much is going to cost me and also when I have to make changes in the manuscript for agents , editors etc how are we going to work.
    This paragraphs were his way of showing me his work.
    I thought he was good translating my story so I am meeting him tomorrow. I hate negotiations!!


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