Immortal Writers

Roberto Bolaño became immortal when he discovered immortality did not exist.

He died at 50, by then he had clearly stated in a Chilean TV interview that in a million years nobody would remember our immortal writers.

To some this may sound irrelevant. Most people do not go through life wondering if people will read what they wrote a million years into the future. But to the minority group of writers to whom this matters, Bolaño's observation is "intriguing", I suppose.

I have never tried to be an immortal writer, the little stories you can find in this blog, fill me more with apprehension that the "wrong" eyes may misinterpret what I write and get into trouble, than if I will be an immortal writer, whatever that means.

Since Bolaño brought the point though, here is my contribution to it.

I haven't read the whole Don Quijote de la Mancha. I read One Hundred Years of Solitude, The Savage Detectives, and 2666. I felt well after reading them and for that I thank here, Roberto Bolaño, and Gabriel García Márquez.

If anybody understood my little stories and derived a bit of satisfaction from that, my purpose was fullfilled. I don't believe in immortal writers either.

What I am after though, is some glimpse on the Nature of Information. That concept really obsesses me.