The Capital Report

So I thought I'd give you the full report from my little trip to Stockholm on Monday. As I've told you before I went there to accept the prize for winning the Metro 2033 short story contest, but I had no real idea what was in store for me, except that I was going to a bookshop. I could barely sleep the night before, being nervous for all kinds of things; but as it turned out I had no need to be nervous at all, and I was very well-taken care of by the publisher people. I went up on the afternoon right after school, taking the X2000 train which doesn't stop at many places and makes good time. It took around two hours to get to Stockholm's central station, where after a while, I found the meeting spot, and where I in turn was picked up by the guy the publisher sent. All well thus far. I was asked whether I wanted to take the subway or walk and I chose walking; I didn't regret it. I'd apparently left the rain and wind back home because in Stockholm it was sunny and beautiful over the old parts of the city where we were headed. We stopped by a Chinese restaurant on the way to the bookshop so I could get some food in me, and then proceeded to Gamla Stan and to the final spot, the Science Fiction Bookshop - and its theme for the night, "Post-Apocalypse".

The evening was divided up in three parts; first a pretty non-serious debate on how to survive a post-apocalyptic disaster, and then two different author sessions. First out was P. C. Jersild who is a well-known Swedish author, mostly popular in the seventies and eighties. He was discussing the re-publication of a post-apocalyptic dystopy he wrote in 1982 - a book I got with me home, as part of the prize. After Jersild was the night's big guest Dmitrij Gluchovskij, who is the author of Metro 2033, the novel that inspired the short story contest, and its sequel Metro 2034. He spoke for around an hour and it was beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was to listen to him, that most people had come to the bookshop. It was insanely crowded all night, and there was no room to sit down; I stood up for like 4 hours crammed into a tiny bookshop with tons of other people making it very, very warm. People were using books as primitive fans to cool down. Interesting really, now that I think back on it, and I'm not focused on my aching feet. Anyhow - finally, after Gluchovskij had spoken about his novel and about writing (and despite standing up time just flew away), the publishing company Coltso went up to announce the winner of their short story competition (me). I'd greeted two out of three of the jury members earlier in the night and now they read out loud the motivation for the winning piece, my story Sagan om Viveka:

A well-written short story in post-apocalyptic spirit

that showcases independence, and with thrilling changes of perspective

depicts an important relationship

(freely translated)

And then they called me up and I went to the little writer's table and shook hands with Gluchovskij, who advised me to switch genres to crime stories because they sell better (DJ should recognize this phenomenon) and made some jokes about how I earned this little piece of paper. He hadn't read the story himself but said he was honored that my "career" should begin with a story inspired by his novel's universe. And a few smiles and photographs later it was time for him to sign people's books, and I looked around in the bookshop meanwhile. The Science Fiction bookshop in Stockholm is really something extra. I found all sorts of obscure literature, not only sci-fi but also tons of fantasy, and entire walls with Marvel comics; I even found the comic book adaptation of the Dark Tower lurking on those shelves, not to mention the whole glass cupboard of 'authentic Harry Potter wands' and other collectibles. After the river of people had died down a little, and I'd talked to some people in the audience (among them a guy who'd also been in the contest, and who I'm now going to switch stories with) I got my own copy of Metro 2033 which Gluchovskij also signed for me, so now I have his autograph on both the diploma, and the novel. His signature reads: "To Rebecca, the winner, with my deepest respect and warmest wishes", and when I flip the page, I find the addition "Hope to read your own books one day". It was really amazing and I had a ton of fun at the bookshop.

The night was topped off with a beer at a local medieval-style bar together with Gluchovskij, a couple of bookshop people, and a couple of publisher people. Some interesting and nice conversations commenced and I learned that Russians don't actually throw their glasses over their shoulder when they have finished the glass (that is just a myth in France), and that you shouldn't try enjoying vodka, because it's impossible; and therefore you shouldn't blend it out with anything, but just have it in shots and be done with it. At least that was Gluchovskij's opinion. I also met another guy here who had been in the contest and who had written about a teenage girl; although that is all I had time to find out. It was late already and I had to get going to the hotel. I was showed there by the most official of the publishing people and even though I couldn't sleep for more than just three hours or so before I had to get up again and board the train back home; it was terrific. My feet loved the fluffy bed and the fact that I was done with walking and standing up and my dizzily happy post-event head loved the long shower and the giant window sill where I could curl up and enjoy the view of the... alley (but still, it beats the view we had in Finland). It was extremely tiring to get up at 4.30 AM on the Tuesday and catch a train as early as six, but I had to since I had classes at 10. Either way the tiredness didn't really strike me until later. The train ride home was wonderful and free. My thoughts totally strayed and it was a special feeling to sit in the restaurant of the train with a hot cup of coffee at six in the morning and just watching the world pass by, thinking about the previous night. An adventure I won't soon forget! And if I should, I need only to look at that diploma now hanging framed on my wall.

Now off to sleep land or I'll never be able to get up in the morning;

POET IN THE DROWSY-HAPPY JAR