''In eighth grade, the language teacher, Don Alonso, chose me to go to the Coca-Cola writing contest, Young Talents. I didn't even pass the first filter, but I remember the pride I felt at being chosen among forty-four, which were the students in my class. In those days, the concept of ratio wasn't even known...'' The writer and teacher Carmen Conde Veiga recalls that first step towards writing. Everything that began with Don Alonso. She sips a coffee with milk "very hot, with a lot of cream and no sugar'' at the bar, while in the background the podcast of Un libro una hora from Cadena Ser plays, one of the radio pleasures her insomnia has led her to.
Daughter of Galician emigrants "who left the village and arrived in post-war Barcelona fleeing hunger and misery. Without having studies, my father entered La Maquinista Terrestre y Marítima and made a place for himself there by working his back off. My mother was a housewife. I admire my father for his courage and wisdom. When he could have bought a good car, he didn't. He managed with a Renault 7, the ugliest car in the world, but he boasted of giving his children a career."
The role of cultural prescriber for young Carmen was played by her brother, five years older. "That's how the comic books of Mortadelo, Tío vivo, Pulgarcito, Hazañas bélicas, El Jabato or El capitán Trueno came into my life. Later came the kiosk novels, especially those of the West. The best ones were written by a certain Silver Kane who, when I was older, I learned was a pseudonym used by Francisco González Ledesma, the creator of Inspector Méndez, a character I champion.'' And who wouldn't!
The worst, for her, was the music. "When I was at the age of listening to Los Pecos, my brother bought a sensational compact system, but to listen in stereo to Pink Floyd, Genesis, Camel and King Crimson, to whose screeching talent I was completely impermeable.'' Luckily, not everything was bad and the writer crossed paths with the rock band of her life: the Electric Light Orchestra.
During her pre-adolescence, Carmen discovered popular literature. Jules Verne, Agatha Christie, Edgar Allan Poe and Arthur Conan Doyle became her reference authors. "All my friends read Martín Vigil and also Born Innocent and its sequels. I never approached those readings and I congratulate myself for it. My goodness, what a trauma!", she laughs, while stirring her coffee with milk.
Writer and vocational teacher
The parishioner graduated in Teaching and the harshness of the competitive exams emerges on her face as she recalls when, thirty-five years ago, after studying a lot, she managed to pass them. "I still congratulate myself for that stroke of luck that came at the right time. Besides, I am a vocational teacher, so I have been immensely happy doing my job. If I were born again, I would be a teacher again."
--- Well, writing is also vocational, isn't it? We had left off with your professor.
"Yes! Many years later, I resumed writing and someone encouraged me to enter a short story contest. I was a finalist. That small success prompted me to write novels and in 2016 I won the II La Trama Black Novel Prize from Ediciones B with Para morir siempre hay tiempo. In 2017 I published La Escritora". Her recently published new work, Mientras alguien nos recuerda (Roca), is "a black novel with a very important historical background, since it is set in Barcelona in 1946, in a mental asylum that really existed: the Mental Institute of Santa Cruz".
Proud of ''the perseverance with which I face writing and the challenges it entails'', Carmen confesses that, working full-time at school, she has very little time to write, ''but writing is my life''. And she announces that she is already working on a new project ''that I am passionate about, but I need to do research, so I am realistic. I don't know how long it will take, but what I am clear about is that I will do my best and be very demanding with myself''.
Life in Nou Barris
Born, resident and working in Nou Barris, the writer likes her neighborhood and walking its streets. "I feel very comfortable. The only thing I don't like is discovering that the haberdashery, the grocery store or the knitwear shop that has been there all my life has closed down and, in its place, a franchise has opened. That makes me very sad."
--- And do you go down to other neighborhoods or the center?
"I don't usually go to the center for a walk. At Christmas I went to the Sagrada Familia to see how the works were progressing and it was packed with tourists. I couldn't even find a place to have a coffee with milk, even though I was willing to go into one of those franchises that have invaded the city. I went back to the neighborhood and haven't returned since,'' she explains, finally finishing her coffee.
--- This is not a franchise and here, in addition to coffee, we have a succulent gastronomic offer, in case you want to eat something, taking advantage of the fact that it's already time.
Carmen Conde Veiga laughs.
--- I don't care, as long as I don't cook ---she replies---. I hate cooking. But no nonsense at the bottom of a plate. I'm a neighborhood girl: some bravas, some Iberian ham or a little paella."
--- You're in the right Bar!
''And, depending on what it is, you accompany it with a draft beer or a glass of white wine,'' she finishes, demonstrating a criterion honed at the foot of thousands of Formica bars.